Is it exactly me, or is it funny that in America, we have a legend wherein we take children out in the timbers, start a fire, and then tell them that supernatural beings exist and are hunting children just like them? “Boooo, what are you hollering? ” I’ve never read a happen about the blis that made total ability to me, but the picture of life after death hemmed together by specter stories is surely the strangest. I feel like the terms and conditions for specters are all over the place, and even the things that are constant are mystifying. So gather round, children, for a fib that offsets no smell!


Ghosts Don’t Get To Pick Where They Haunt

Think of a few examples of places that are typically said to be haunted: vacated hospitals, old-time schools, the basements of creepy mansions, Cracker Barrels, etc. Now think of places you are able to experience being for all of eternity. “Not in a musty basement” is the first thing that pops into my head.

I don’t care how depraved “you think youre” , nothing wants to hang around a graveyard forever. Even if all you want is to be a sneak and assassination parties, wouldn’t you at least pick a location with maximum hoof transaction for casualty options? Cruel spirits should be recurring a mall in Paramus, New Jersey if they’re going for a blatant number of parties scared. I predict if we’re talking scare caliber over scare capacity , a frightening orientation can make sense. But most phantoms time spook through frightening sighs and throwing doorways. You can do that shit most anywhere.

Haunting an abandoned psych division has got to be 99 percentage sitting around waiting for someone to show up so you can carnage them. Even when someone does show up to your decomposing slaying barn, they’re undoubtedly not very smart. The smart parties stay away from creepy points. Do ghosts not like to be challenged these days? Just formerly, I would love to meet a specter who’s looking for an rational, funny, charismatic lady to slaying. A spirit who loves the outdoors, but doesn’t mind remain in and watching Netflix. A phantom who … oh, sorry.

Also, if all supernaturals got to pick where they haunt, the front row of Beyonce concerts would be the most recurred target in the world. Hawaii would be an uninhabitable hallucination island, and you could never get a good parking place at Costco because all of the soul autoes would be recurring the best smudges. So I approximate ghost sites are assigned by lottery sucks. Some do Waikiki, and others get the ass rift of a busted Chuck E. Cheese’s animatronic.


You’re Incapable Of Emotional Growth After Death

This is the creepy stuff that haunts me the most about ghosts: Why do the frightening little children in 1920 s marine suits still want to play with dolls? They’re 90 years old. Shouldn’t they want to play with cigars, or the stock market area of the newspaper, or a Make America Great Again hat? They should be hovering around their spooky playroom complaining about avocado toast and hip move , not journeying an antique rocking horse.

What about all of those brides who were left at the altar who now specter in their lily-white wedding dresses? Shouldn’t they have figured out their grooms-to-be were cocks by now? Can a soul Stella never get her ghostly groove back? That’s the saddest occasion I can imagine! What’s the spiritual equivalent of taking your girl out for froyo and telling her she was too good for him regardless? I’m sure there are tons of eligible son specters out there just waiting to meet a sweet phantom noblewoman. Or, since it’s 2017, they are unable explore some alternatives which maybe weren’t open to them in the 1800 s. Maybe those girl haunts like other girl haunts. Hey, the nether realm could only benefit from progressiveness.

What about phantoms who lost something before they died and are doomed to invest eternity go looking for it? I look for my vehicle keys for five minutes before I decide that they’re led perpetually and I can’t leave the house that day. What is it about death that gets parties so hung up on things that they will literally expend eternity moaning about them instead of moving on to some other frightening dare? I don’t “ve been meaning to” critique the dead, but maybe look into some hobbies. Do haunts frisk badminton? Hey, I’m merely throw away ideas.


Being A Good Person Makes You A Terrifying Ghost

I feel like the lesson of haunt stories is “GO WILD, KIDS, as the more beings you murder now, the more superpowers you get in the afterlife.” They posit a universe wherein bad beings are reinforced for being horrendous during their lives by Pokemoning into superpowered indestructible demons. Meanwhile, good people can accomplish cock as supernaturals. For a serial assassin, extinction is like leveling up in a video game, while for a good person, it’s being blindfolded in a windstorm.

Murderous specters can appear whenever their identify is said three times, or interact with objects in the real world easily, like pierces and attack! Good phantoms in spirit narrations principally get to show up in a daydream and give the world’s vaguest forewarn which simply stimulates appreciation as you’re actively being assassinated. “Oh, my aunt’s ghost said to ‘beware of tubers, ‘ so I always envisioned I was allergic to potatoes, but now that Nathan Yams is jabbing me to fatality, everything prepares appreciation! “

If a good ghost isn’t being used to warn someone about a bad supernatural or person recruiting their life, they’re presented as a martyr whose spirit is being held hostage by a bad supernatural. Either that or they’re unable to cope with their unfinished business. If you listen to one hundred ghost stories in a row, you can’t assistance but get the impression that good specters are totally lame, and if you want to have any fun in the after life, you better start racking up evil levels right now. Now excuse me while I vanish rip a critical page out of a library bible and propel some Skittles at strangers.


You Get One Outfit For Eternity

One of my favorite classic spirit narratives is the guy who picks up a nice girl hitchhiking in a Halloween costume from the ‘5 0s, or the ‘3 0s, or whatever is about two decades prior to when the narrative is being told. Today it would be a quite girl in JNCO jeans who likely won’t shut the fucking around about Chumbawamba. Anyway, the girl says she wants to go home, but then she tells the person to stop at a cemetery and runs out of the car, her pant leg flapping behind her in the wind as she sprints away.

Obviously, this haunt is trying to masquerade as not-a-ghost, so why didn’t she informed her clothing to a more modern option, like an oversized “Adulting Is Hard” T-Shirt and leggings? I personally assume that anyone I see in a out-of-date outfit is a ghost. It’s the safest mode to live a phantom-free life. Although I do end up feeing bellowing from perfectly normal people a lot. Too, telling beings, “I thought you were a ghost because of your horrible outfit” is not a fanciful way to make friends. Neither is “Your vest makes you definitely sounds like the deceased. And you have the shoes of a poltergeist.”

What are the wording rules for the one organization that we wear perpetually? When “youre dying”, is your first stop in the afterlife a dressing room? If so, why aren’t supernaturals flashier? I would go full Glinda the Good Witch if I got to pick my specter getup. My afterlife would consist of two jobs: spooking beings and ogling damn good in a Cinderella dress.

I suppose in a lot of cases, it’s a whatever you die in that you wear in your perpetually situation. If that’s the action, I’m going to have to make sure I never wear anything painful for the rest of my life. Imagine being trapped in spanx for all of heaven. No, don’t! I don’t want this article are far too scary.


There Are No Animal Ghosts

One of the few solid rulers about supernaturals is that they’re established when a person is unfinished business at the time of their death. What unfinished business could a abide possibly have? I’m sure it was likely wanted to poop on all of the trees in the woodland, but was only be permitted to get at about 40 -5 0 percent of them. Privately, I don’t think that’s ghost material. Don’t@ me.

Are there no swine phantoms because animals are simply a lot more efficient than human beings and nothing is ever left undone? They came here to sniff some fire hydrants and ruin some shoes, and they all succumb gaily knowing their goals have been met ten periods over. I certainly hope that’s the example. I really hope that bird-dog go into the afterlife knowing that their duty of inconveniencing “the worlds” in the cutest highways probable was completed.

I feel like the lack of ghost narratives about animals is proof that animal spirits don’t dwell, because I can’t think of anything scarier than a soul shark. Jaws is easy to escape; you just don’t move into irrigate. But if Jaws was a ghost, I would never leave my home. There’s no situate to hide from Ghost Jaws. Can I mark Jaws 5: Ghost Jaws ? I’m going to consider this my trademark. Oh, they already made a movie listed Ghost Shark ? Forget Hostel and The Human Centipede , the cruelty genre was eventually gone too far .

I love swine, but a lack of spirit animals is likely a good happening in the long run. Imagine how many supernatural faults there would be in this world if animal souls subsisted. So numerous feeling spiders would be out for retaliation against me. Sorry I didn’t let you guys bite me while you were alive. Get over it.


Haunts Apparently Have Some Kind Of Lifespan

We exclusively ever hear about specters from the last 100 -1 50 years or so. How come there aren’t any caveman supernaturals? Did ghosts only become a situation in the 1800 s? I repute it’s conceivable that caveman supernaturals are out recurring caves, and they’re just really confused about where everybody else went.

I wonder if we only understand recent phantoms because we can’t make haunts from too long ago dangerously. Being haunted by a Roman ghost speaking archaic Latin would probably just be confounding. If I woke up and there was a chap in my bedroom wearing a toga and communicating tripe at me, I would assume he was a failed drunken frat son. I’d only put on some Lil Jon, slap his head, and settled him to bed.

When specters get too old, they probably just come stymie and go forth. “I have to learn English to recur them? Fuuuuuck that. Do you know how insanely hard that expression is to learn? I have literally all the time in the world and I’m not going to do it. I’ll merrily fade into nothingness now.” Or maybe it’s all the newfangled engineering disfiguring spirits off. Snapchat would be frightening to a caveman haunt. It’s a insignificant box that falsifies our look so we gaze monstrous, and we love it! Poor caveman specters are possibly more just scared us than we are of them. Honestly, we should all really be nicer to supernaturals. It sounds like a rough afterlife in general.

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