Ghosts

Every time I watch some sort of paranormal television show that slowly drains what little IQ I have on me; I always wonder…man are ghosts always dicks?

I mean whether you believe in a spiritual life or not you can’t refute in the way most experiences are depicted chairs get thrown, plates get broken, and they expose faulty steps in a stairway.

They’re always some time of degenerate asshole. That costs money, can’t you draw like a dick or something on the mirror? Or randomly play smooth jazz in rooms. I want my entire experience in life like I’m stuck-in-a-elevator type music.

I feel like if I were to haunt the living I’d be kind and courteous like toast peoples bread in the morning. Make a pot of joe, sing christmas carols and shit.

Enough is enough, its time we do something about these pricks. I don’t know where to start but picketing sounds like a good plan.

Seemingly the same people that confess to experience those paranormal encounters with spirits are also the same people starting at the sky for UFOs.

Convinced that every commercial jet that passes by is another.

In reality I made this post because as I was falling asleep, you know on my back one hand down my pants, other propping my head up since I still haven’t manage to buy a pillow. I felt something vividly grab my arm pit, strong ass grip too; so yeah that made me wide awake falling from cloud nine. I was convinced someone else was in the room with me as I searched frantically around with a flashlight apparently forgetting the use of fluorescent lights that hang above me.

whatever though.

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