"Soz. That was totes awkies beb."
Translation: I'm sorry. That was a really awkward situation, my friend.
OMG. WTF? I thought it was FTW but now, FML.
Translation: Oh my Gosh. What in the hey now? I thought it was just dandy but now life is not worth living.
Ceebs. Today is defs going to be downer
Translation: I cannot be bothered. Today is definitively going to be one hell of a day.
Ok, hear me out because I realise that for those of you who know me, I may be at risk of sounding like an awful hypocrite. So in the in the interest of full disclosure, allow me to admit that yes, I am guilty of throwing the occasional OMG and FML into the world. I am also guilty of uttering those God awful, new fangled abbreviations of 'totes' and 'awkies', but rest assured it is only in fun, I swear!
There are however people I know (mostly hipsters and the like) that use the words totes and awkies for evil (and by evil, I mean in real, normal conversation). It's a craze that has swept the young nation and I personally, am NOT a fan because quite frankly, it makes a nincompoop out of you and me.
Yes, a nincompoop. It makes you sound like a nincompoop, kind of the way those kids in the nineties who spoke like ninja turtles sounded when they said the words 'cowabunga dude' and 'totally radical'. Although, if those drugged out surfies were the teens of today, rest assured they would be saying 'cowabungs dude, that's totes rad" because apparently nonsensical abbreviations are now the epitome of cool.
I realise that abbreviations have always been around, if only because I remember being 11 and thinking that dropping the 'ed' off of the word 'wicked' made me a shaman of the English language. I would get around telling people how 'wick' that movie on TV was last night and how 'wick' my new shoes were. Everything was 'wick'. It was a craze that swept the grade five class of Highbury Primary school and in many ways, perhaps it was the original 'totes' or 'awkies' but lets be honest, that doesn't make it sound any less dumb.
The English language is constantly evolving and new words (and abbreviations there of), will always be appearing, much to our dismay or delight. However, just like I cringed when 'D'oh' made it into the dictionary, I live in fear of the day 'totes' becomes a legitimate word or 'c' and 'u' replace the original versions of the words because digital media finally won the good fight.
So there you go, my little rant about totes hating abbreviated hipster words. Will try my utmost not to fall victim to using them
Nadia X
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
How not to be Creepy
This one is for the men out there and it's aptly called "How not be be creepy", because lets face it, sometimes you guys really DO come across as creepy (even if you don't realise it). Now, while the boys at Lonley island have explained it fairly well through the art of song, I feel I have a thing or two to add.
So here are some tips on how to avoid coming across as a creep...
1. Don't creep
Now I know what you're thinking; that this one is pretty self explainatory, but you'd be surprised how many guys do this. So cardinal rule number one: Don't creep!
Don't sneak up on a girl and just pop up like some wacked out Jack in a box. Don't sidle up, laugh loudly and insert yourself into her conversation. And don't, I mean DO NOT, just come up behind a girl and start grinding on her ass, because it may not give you the result you were after (If you need more clarification on this last point, I refer you to one Miss. Jenna Marbles: here).
Bottom line, if you creep up, you look creepy. Like I said, seems pretty straight forward but men are repeat offenders of the creep. Just to reiterate: serial killers creep, Dexter creeps, men with bad comb overs who wear hush puppies creep, and most importantly, creeps creep. So hot tip: If she jumps when you come up behind her and whisper her name in her ear, shrieks when you appear suddenly in her peripherals, or appears startled to see you, then you have offended and yes, you are a creep.
2. Try to appear normal
This one seems meaner than it is and by 'try to be normal', I don't mean 'don't be you'. By all means, be yourself, just maybe don't be your whole self too soon. Don't start the conversation off by drumming on about your strange collection of fossilised guano, your collection of rare and dangerous spiders, your Mum, or that weird fungus you have growing on your big toe. Try to keep the conversation general. Ask her questions, find common ground and once you've won her over with your dazzling smile and mutual love of country and western music, then tell her about the fungus. You picking up what I'm putting down?
3. Don't be too forward
Try not to go in too 'Gung Ho'. That is to say, take it slowly. Approach at a leisurely pace, not a terrifying run. Don't start asking her about her previous relationships, her last pap smear or where she is in her 'womanly cycle'. Still avoid talking about the toe fungus.
You should also avoid getting involved too quickly. Don't start making promises about the things you are going to do or see, or the places you would take her. Don't talk about marriage or kids unless that is somehow a natural progression in the conversation. Don't start talking about how she would love your parents or invite her (even if it is an empty offer) to your beach house, or your isolated cabin in the woods for a nice ciante. Bottom line, she will think you are strange, moving too fast, or worst case, that you are going to go all Hannibal Lectre on her ass and make her into a pie. And let me tell you, none of those options are sexy and in case you're wondering, yes, they get you a tick in the creepy column.
4. Listen with your eyes
No, this isn't like that playschool song that tells you to 'listen with your eyes and sing everything you see'. This one is about body language and about how you should observe it and use it. It's simple, don't leer, don't lean forward too much, don't square your body to her thus creating a brick wall between her and the exit. If you take a step forward and she takes two steps back, it's not a re-enactment of a Paula Abdul classic, it's her telling you that she is comfortable with the existing personal space and doesn't want to close the gap. Listen with your eyes, boys. Body language will tell you a lot about how well you're doing with a gal.
5. Think of Quagmire
Think of Quagmire from Family Guy...and then be the opposite. Never say Giggity Giggity.
6. This isn't animal planet
This isn't animal planet. She isn't a defenseless gazelle or a wounded buffalo calf. You are not a prowling lion on the savannah.
No wait, I changed my mind. Think of her like a gazelle (or a wounded buffalo calf) and think of yourself as that lion. What would a gazelle do if you backed them up into a corner? The correct answer is: it would freak the shit out. So don't do it to the ladies!
Don't hit on girls in the elevator or in a car, or even on the train or bus, because like a gazelle, they will freak the shit out. Moving vehicles are terrifying, more so when in the presence of a lion. Pick the right setting, give her a chance (if she so desires), to run the fuck away. Cars and busses and elevators are essentially situations where we feel trapped. We can't get away from you. We are forced to endure a period of time in your presence, whether it be until we get to the next floor, or until we reach the next stop. Don't get me wrong, we don't mind that you're hitting on us, we just want the easy flight option available to us while you're doing it.
7. Last but not least...
So I'm sure that by now I've done a pretty good job of convincing you otherwise, but believe it or not, most girls are not heinous bitches. We are NOT those bitchy girls from high school and unless you are being particularly vile or offensive, we will not flat out tell you to fuck off. I'm not saying you're not going to get rejected, you might. My point however, is that most girls will politely decline or lie about having a boyfriend.
Now, should that happen (and here's the most important part), don't be a jerk about it. Don't call her a lesbian, or a dirty slut because buddy, you just hit on her which either makes you an idiot for trying your luck with a person with no interest in a vital piece of your anatomy, or a man with questionable taste who fancies dirty sluts. Also, don't say things like 'do you really have a boyfriend', or 'I don't care if you have a fella'. Truth be told, she probably doesn't have a boyfriend, but she politely lied about it so as to not make you feel so bad, and now you're being a jerk about it. So stop. Just politely smile and walk away. Well done, you have successfully avoided being a creep.
So there you have it, some cardinal rules to follow if you want to avoid being a creep. If however, you DO want to be a creep, then please refer to the aforementioned Lonely island video where Niki Minaj, Jorma, Akiva and Andy will educate you on the art of Creeping.
Until next time,
Nadia X
So here are some tips on how to avoid coming across as a creep...
1. Don't creep
Now I know what you're thinking; that this one is pretty self explainatory, but you'd be surprised how many guys do this. So cardinal rule number one: Don't creep!
Don't sneak up on a girl and just pop up like some wacked out Jack in a box. Don't sidle up, laugh loudly and insert yourself into her conversation. And don't, I mean DO NOT, just come up behind a girl and start grinding on her ass, because it may not give you the result you were after (If you need more clarification on this last point, I refer you to one Miss. Jenna Marbles: here).
Bottom line, if you creep up, you look creepy. Like I said, seems pretty straight forward but men are repeat offenders of the creep. Just to reiterate: serial killers creep, Dexter creeps, men with bad comb overs who wear hush puppies creep, and most importantly, creeps creep. So hot tip: If she jumps when you come up behind her and whisper her name in her ear, shrieks when you appear suddenly in her peripherals, or appears startled to see you, then you have offended and yes, you are a creep.
2. Try to appear normal
This one seems meaner than it is and by 'try to be normal', I don't mean 'don't be you'. By all means, be yourself, just maybe don't be your whole self too soon. Don't start the conversation off by drumming on about your strange collection of fossilised guano, your collection of rare and dangerous spiders, your Mum, or that weird fungus you have growing on your big toe. Try to keep the conversation general. Ask her questions, find common ground and once you've won her over with your dazzling smile and mutual love of country and western music, then tell her about the fungus. You picking up what I'm putting down?
3. Don't be too forward
Try not to go in too 'Gung Ho'. That is to say, take it slowly. Approach at a leisurely pace, not a terrifying run. Don't start asking her about her previous relationships, her last pap smear or where she is in her 'womanly cycle'. Still avoid talking about the toe fungus.
You should also avoid getting involved too quickly. Don't start making promises about the things you are going to do or see, or the places you would take her. Don't talk about marriage or kids unless that is somehow a natural progression in the conversation. Don't start talking about how she would love your parents or invite her (even if it is an empty offer) to your beach house, or your isolated cabin in the woods for a nice ciante. Bottom line, she will think you are strange, moving too fast, or worst case, that you are going to go all Hannibal Lectre on her ass and make her into a pie. And let me tell you, none of those options are sexy and in case you're wondering, yes, they get you a tick in the creepy column.
4. Listen with your eyes
No, this isn't like that playschool song that tells you to 'listen with your eyes and sing everything you see'. This one is about body language and about how you should observe it and use it. It's simple, don't leer, don't lean forward too much, don't square your body to her thus creating a brick wall between her and the exit. If you take a step forward and she takes two steps back, it's not a re-enactment of a Paula Abdul classic, it's her telling you that she is comfortable with the existing personal space and doesn't want to close the gap. Listen with your eyes, boys. Body language will tell you a lot about how well you're doing with a gal.
5. Think of Quagmire
Think of Quagmire from Family Guy...and then be the opposite. Never say Giggity Giggity.
6. This isn't animal planet
This isn't animal planet. She isn't a defenseless gazelle or a wounded buffalo calf. You are not a prowling lion on the savannah.
No wait, I changed my mind. Think of her like a gazelle (or a wounded buffalo calf) and think of yourself as that lion. What would a gazelle do if you backed them up into a corner? The correct answer is: it would freak the shit out. So don't do it to the ladies!
Don't hit on girls in the elevator or in a car, or even on the train or bus, because like a gazelle, they will freak the shit out. Moving vehicles are terrifying, more so when in the presence of a lion. Pick the right setting, give her a chance (if she so desires), to run the fuck away. Cars and busses and elevators are essentially situations where we feel trapped. We can't get away from you. We are forced to endure a period of time in your presence, whether it be until we get to the next floor, or until we reach the next stop. Don't get me wrong, we don't mind that you're hitting on us, we just want the easy flight option available to us while you're doing it.
7. Last but not least...
So I'm sure that by now I've done a pretty good job of convincing you otherwise, but believe it or not, most girls are not heinous bitches. We are NOT those bitchy girls from high school and unless you are being particularly vile or offensive, we will not flat out tell you to fuck off. I'm not saying you're not going to get rejected, you might. My point however, is that most girls will politely decline or lie about having a boyfriend.
Now, should that happen (and here's the most important part), don't be a jerk about it. Don't call her a lesbian, or a dirty slut because buddy, you just hit on her which either makes you an idiot for trying your luck with a person with no interest in a vital piece of your anatomy, or a man with questionable taste who fancies dirty sluts. Also, don't say things like 'do you really have a boyfriend', or 'I don't care if you have a fella'. Truth be told, she probably doesn't have a boyfriend, but she politely lied about it so as to not make you feel so bad, and now you're being a jerk about it. So stop. Just politely smile and walk away. Well done, you have successfully avoided being a creep.
So there you have it, some cardinal rules to follow if you want to avoid being a creep. If however, you DO want to be a creep, then please refer to the aforementioned Lonely island video where Niki Minaj, Jorma, Akiva and Andy will educate you on the art of Creeping.
Until next time,
Nadia X
Friday, January 13, 2012
7 absolute must reads
So here is my list of books you should read this year. Yes, there are seven, not five or three or ten. Any others I put on the list just felt like fillers. These are my favs from the last few years of poring over fantastical fiction.
Some of them are recommended by many and can be found in the 'best seller' section of your local bookstore, some are a bit more obscure. However, I garuntee that even the ones that come highly acclaimed were stumbled upon by accident by yours truly, not because the Advertiser or Oprah's book club told me to read it.
So here they are, the golden seven. Trust me.
1. The Book thief- Marcus Zusak
2. Life of Pi- Yann Martel
3. The Night Circus- Erin Morgenstern
4. Five People you meet in Heaven- Mitch Albom
5. The Gargoyle- Andrew Davidson
6. Portrait in Sepia- Isabel Allende
7. Atonement- Ian McEwan
- Nadia X
Some of them are recommended by many and can be found in the 'best seller' section of your local bookstore, some are a bit more obscure. However, I garuntee that even the ones that come highly acclaimed were stumbled upon by accident by yours truly, not because the Advertiser or Oprah's book club told me to read it.
So here they are, the golden seven. Trust me.
1. The Book thief- Marcus Zusak
2. Life of Pi- Yann Martel
3. The Night Circus- Erin Morgenstern
4. Five People you meet in Heaven- Mitch Albom
5. The Gargoyle- Andrew Davidson
6. Portrait in Sepia- Isabel Allende
7. Atonement- Ian McEwan
- Nadia X
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Resolutions
Resolutions. These are they:
*BE CREATIVE
Do things. Cut things. Paste things. Design things. Make creepy collages of Keanu Reeves. Stick people's heads on pictures of dancing cats....you get the drift.
* STRIVE
Don't settle for mundane or mediocre or just 'ok'. If something isn't right, change it. If you want something, go for it. If something bothers you, say it. Be the maker of your own universe.
*BE FEARLESS
Don't fear the fall, instead enjoy the rush as you plummet to your potential demise. Skinned knees are not the end of the word, even though they do stop you wearing pretty dresses for a few weeks.
*MAKE TIME
Make time for yourself to do something or sometimes, just do nothing. Take time out. Chill. Write. Read. Meditate. Do whatever it is you feel like doing so you don't get caught up, fed up or find yourself breaking down.
*BE BATSHIT CRAZY
Say the things you want to say. Dance in the aisle of the bus to your Ipod like you're Beyonce. Go to parties by yourself. Get lost. Get found. Get into sticky situations. Be awkward. Make people wonder what kind of drugs you're on. Be the very best, most insane version of yourself and then take it up 10 notches until you reach bat shit crazy.
And that's all folks. I'm not much into New years and I usually hate making resolutions but this year felt like a good time to make them. So here they are.
-Nadia
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Feelin' fine
When I was 17 and very cheekily drinking and going out underage, my body had this uncanny knack to bounce back. Alcohol induced hazes didn't come with punishments attached in the form of horrendous hangovers, the tiredness didn't really effect you and a boozy bender could consist of four or five consecutive nights of going out without so much as a bat of an eyelid from yours truly.
That kind of resilience doesn't last though and I think that at about 20, that whole 'bounce back' thing kind of started to die. I had to pick and choose my battles, either drinking and going home early or not drinking and going home late. I figured out fairly early that it was much easier to be tired OR hung over rather than tired AND hungover. I know, right- LAME.
Yes, I was lame and until recently I had pretty well come to terms with the fact that I would never be able to reclaim my body's former glory. Never again would I be able to wake up like nothing had happened, or without having little cartoon birdies flying around my head because I drank too much tequila. I comforted myself by saying 'it was good while it lasted' or 'it's better to have bounced back and lost your ability than to have never bounced back at all". Until that is, I woke up this morning feeling particularly elastic.
You see, being a resilient binge drinker is all about conditioning. You don't see marathon runner going into a big race all 'half cocked'. Boxers don't go into a fight all 'willy nilly' without serious training before hand. You shouldn't binge drink without properly limbering yourself up for the beating you are about to give your liver. It's just common sense, really.
So it seems that after a year of playing rugby (yes, I am crediting my alcoholic conditioning to Old Collegians rugby club), I am once again able to 'bounce back'.
Last night I went to bed/passed out, surprisingly not still in my clothes, but very merry. This morning I woke up (potentially still drunk) feeling like a million bucks. Sure, if I tip my head upside down I feel a little like I'm swimming. Sure, my eyes are a little bleary but I'm not tired, I don't feel seedy and thanks to my jumbo, extra strong latte, the red bull in my purse, panadol and some eyedrops (just to be safe), I think I'm going to continue to feel fine.
There is, of course, the possibility that this hangover will be a creeper. You know, those awful hangovers that lure you into a false sense of security and don't hit you until mid afternoon, just when you thought it was safe to let your guard down. Yeah, hoping it's not one of those because that is going to suck. Although, as a general rule I tend to sell a lot more shit at work when I'm hungover. Must be something about the smell of vodka emanating from my pores that gets people in the mood for wasting their money, but who's complaining?
Anyway, I am supposed to be you know, working, so TTFN.
-Nadia X
Edit: Yep, it was a creeper. I suppose I haven't returned to form....best to test that theory though with more benders and of course, by conditioning my liver for future beatings. :P - N
That kind of resilience doesn't last though and I think that at about 20, that whole 'bounce back' thing kind of started to die. I had to pick and choose my battles, either drinking and going home early or not drinking and going home late. I figured out fairly early that it was much easier to be tired OR hung over rather than tired AND hungover. I know, right- LAME.
Yes, I was lame and until recently I had pretty well come to terms with the fact that I would never be able to reclaim my body's former glory. Never again would I be able to wake up like nothing had happened, or without having little cartoon birdies flying around my head because I drank too much tequila. I comforted myself by saying 'it was good while it lasted' or 'it's better to have bounced back and lost your ability than to have never bounced back at all". Until that is, I woke up this morning feeling particularly elastic.
You see, being a resilient binge drinker is all about conditioning. You don't see marathon runner going into a big race all 'half cocked'. Boxers don't go into a fight all 'willy nilly' without serious training before hand. You shouldn't binge drink without properly limbering yourself up for the beating you are about to give your liver. It's just common sense, really.
So it seems that after a year of playing rugby (yes, I am crediting my alcoholic conditioning to Old Collegians rugby club), I am once again able to 'bounce back'.
Last night I went to bed/passed out, surprisingly not still in my clothes, but very merry. This morning I woke up (potentially still drunk) feeling like a million bucks. Sure, if I tip my head upside down I feel a little like I'm swimming. Sure, my eyes are a little bleary but I'm not tired, I don't feel seedy and thanks to my jumbo, extra strong latte, the red bull in my purse, panadol and some eyedrops (just to be safe), I think I'm going to continue to feel fine.
There is, of course, the possibility that this hangover will be a creeper. You know, those awful hangovers that lure you into a false sense of security and don't hit you until mid afternoon, just when you thought it was safe to let your guard down. Yeah, hoping it's not one of those because that is going to suck. Although, as a general rule I tend to sell a lot more shit at work when I'm hungover. Must be something about the smell of vodka emanating from my pores that gets people in the mood for wasting their money, but who's complaining?
Anyway, I am supposed to be you know, working, so TTFN.
-Nadia X
Edit: Yep, it was a creeper. I suppose I haven't returned to form....best to test that theory though with more benders and of course, by conditioning my liver for future beatings. :P - N
Friday, November 18, 2011
Space-a-phobic?
So I'm afraid of space and no, I don't mean that in the 'opposite of claustrophobic' way. We're not talkin' wide open spaces here, I'm talking space as in 'outer'. You know, where all the stars live as balls of burning gas billions of miles away (did you get my Lion King quote?).
No, seriously, the thought of outer space terrifies me. Now don't get me wrong, I've often layed on the ground and looked up at the sky and marveled at the fact that the world exists. I start to think about how the sky looks domed and how the Earth is round and how this little thing called gravity keeps us from falling off it's surface. I think about how we are just a tiny spec in this vast universe and how infinite space is and how honestly, that freaks me out but until the other day I was never truly terrified by space. Until that is, I watched James May's "At the Edge of space" and he started to crunch the numbers.
So Mr. May got to talking about space and about different theories to do with the universe. He started to say that some theorists believe that all the stars are slowly being drawn towards black holes that will eventually engulf them. He also talked about gravitational pulls that are drawing objects in the universe closer together so that eventually everything will collide with one another and, you know, explode. That wasn't the scary part though. The scary part was when he estimated that this wouldn't happen for probably another 200, 000 trillion years!
Now for most that would have been a 'phew' moment because by golly, that means that you won't be alive to see the end when it is nigh. For me, that's when my mind went "holy shit!" because I actually can't fathom how long 200, 000 trillion years is. I don't even know how much a trillion is in the scheme of the whole 'illion' deal. What comes before a trillion? A billion? And what comes after? A gazillion? Is it a million, billion, trillion, gazillion? Is that the way it goes? I don't know! 200, 000 trillion years?! Well, fuck you, James May, I'm having none of it (no, I take that back. I love you James May).
Anyway, I suppose if nothing else, this epiphany has shed some light on why I silently judged other children who wanted to be astronauts when I was growing up. This irrational fear may have also contributed to my dislike of the use of gold stars in the education system, as well as my general abhorrence to all movies (bar Star Wars) that are set in 'the great beyond'.
In conclusion: I am space-a-phobic. It scares the shit out of me- maybe not literally- but perhaps if you shot me into space, maybe then, literally.
Space. Not a fan.
-Nadia X
No, seriously, the thought of outer space terrifies me. Now don't get me wrong, I've often layed on the ground and looked up at the sky and marveled at the fact that the world exists. I start to think about how the sky looks domed and how the Earth is round and how this little thing called gravity keeps us from falling off it's surface. I think about how we are just a tiny spec in this vast universe and how infinite space is and how honestly, that freaks me out but until the other day I was never truly terrified by space. Until that is, I watched James May's "At the Edge of space" and he started to crunch the numbers.
So Mr. May got to talking about space and about different theories to do with the universe. He started to say that some theorists believe that all the stars are slowly being drawn towards black holes that will eventually engulf them. He also talked about gravitational pulls that are drawing objects in the universe closer together so that eventually everything will collide with one another and, you know, explode. That wasn't the scary part though. The scary part was when he estimated that this wouldn't happen for probably another 200, 000 trillion years!
Now for most that would have been a 'phew' moment because by golly, that means that you won't be alive to see the end when it is nigh. For me, that's when my mind went "holy shit!" because I actually can't fathom how long 200, 000 trillion years is. I don't even know how much a trillion is in the scheme of the whole 'illion' deal. What comes before a trillion? A billion? And what comes after? A gazillion? Is it a million, billion, trillion, gazillion? Is that the way it goes? I don't know! 200, 000 trillion years?! Well, fuck you, James May, I'm having none of it (no, I take that back. I love you James May).
Anyway, I suppose if nothing else, this epiphany has shed some light on why I silently judged other children who wanted to be astronauts when I was growing up. This irrational fear may have also contributed to my dislike of the use of gold stars in the education system, as well as my general abhorrence to all movies (bar Star Wars) that are set in 'the great beyond'.
In conclusion: I am space-a-phobic. It scares the shit out of me- maybe not literally- but perhaps if you shot me into space, maybe then, literally.
Space. Not a fan.
-Nadia X
Thursday, November 17, 2011
You will die if....
I'm a bit of a goose, no really, I am. I like to scare myself. I get a sick little thrill from feeling goosebumps prickle my skin, my toes curl up in terror and my hair stand on end. I get less of a thrill when I can't sleep at night because I think there are zombies living in my closet. I call it 'can't sleep, clown will eat me' syndrome but that's not the point that I'm trying to make.
My point is that no matter how many scary movies I watch, no matter how many thrillers I consume or how many shows I watch with names like 'Ghost Hunters' and 'Paranormal state' and 'Ghost Lab', I can't help feeling that my fear is somewhat overridden by my astonishment at how stupid people are.
In the case of movies, these people are of course, fictional but in these so called 'reality' paranormal shows, the people are very much real. These people literally live in fear of their homes for YEARS before they try to deal with the problem. You have terrified kids, mums at the end of their tether, dogs going ape shit, words and symbols 'allegedly' being carved into people's flesh and whenever they are interviewed they say things like 'oh, I've had almost as much as I can take' or 'I'm almost at breaking point'. Almost? Really? Almost!? And what was it that led you to breaking point? Was it the fact that your kid's head rotated 180 degrees or was it the blood dripping from the walls that really got your goat? Almost? Please! I would have been out of there as soon as that husky, somewhat creepy voice whispered 'get out!'.
The other thing I have noticed is that these people always seem clueless about the paranormal and about what seems to aggravate entities of a ghostly nature. In most of these TV shows, the 'clients' (the haunted) are interviewed by the 'investigators' (usually kids or fat men with video recorders) and one of the questions that they are ALWAYS asked is 'so, can you think of anything that may have brought about this paranormal activity?'. Of course, they always answer with a resounding 'no'. Until later on when they suddenly seem to remember little insignificant facts like 'oh, when I was ten I offered my soul to the devil for a cookie'; or 'oh yeah, we played with a Ouija board a bunch of times and conjured Satan'; or 'oh, that's right, our house is located on an Indian burrial ground' and so on and so forth. Like I said, little insignificant facts.
So with that said, sometimes being haunted isn't your fault. That's right, sometimes it's just gosh darn bad luck but here are some helpful tips...
If you live on any property that used to be a 'plantation' or had 'plantation' in the name, it's haunted. If you have a house with doors to rooms that lock from the outside, it's haunted. If your house is old and you have a basement, an attic, a cellar, a loft or any place that looks like it could have once been a dungeon, your house is haunted. Anything that is on or near creepy woods or has barns, narrow stairwells or used to be something along the lines of an old church, school house or insane asylum- gonna go out on a limb here and say, probably haunted.
Here's another helpful tip from yours truly: NEVER renovate your old house because from experience, ghosts don't tend to like it. Another hot tip: don't attempt spirit communication by trying to goad your ghostie into revealing itself becuase best case scenario, it DOES show it self and you shit yourself. Worst case scenario, the walls start shaking and your house tries to 'cleanse itself' of you (i.e. tries to kill you) and lets be honest, this scenario still ends with you shitting yourself, only you're dead and soiled instead of just soiled.
So there you go. Some tips about the paranormal that may or may not have known. Basic rule of thumb: everywhere is haunted and the only thing you can really do, is give your house up to the beasties because lets face it, they're invisible and you're never going to win that fight.
-Nadia X
My point is that no matter how many scary movies I watch, no matter how many thrillers I consume or how many shows I watch with names like 'Ghost Hunters' and 'Paranormal state' and 'Ghost Lab', I can't help feeling that my fear is somewhat overridden by my astonishment at how stupid people are.
In the case of movies, these people are of course, fictional but in these so called 'reality' paranormal shows, the people are very much real. These people literally live in fear of their homes for YEARS before they try to deal with the problem. You have terrified kids, mums at the end of their tether, dogs going ape shit, words and symbols 'allegedly' being carved into people's flesh and whenever they are interviewed they say things like 'oh, I've had almost as much as I can take' or 'I'm almost at breaking point'. Almost? Really? Almost!? And what was it that led you to breaking point? Was it the fact that your kid's head rotated 180 degrees or was it the blood dripping from the walls that really got your goat? Almost? Please! I would have been out of there as soon as that husky, somewhat creepy voice whispered 'get out!'.
The other thing I have noticed is that these people always seem clueless about the paranormal and about what seems to aggravate entities of a ghostly nature. In most of these TV shows, the 'clients' (the haunted) are interviewed by the 'investigators' (usually kids or fat men with video recorders) and one of the questions that they are ALWAYS asked is 'so, can you think of anything that may have brought about this paranormal activity?'. Of course, they always answer with a resounding 'no'. Until later on when they suddenly seem to remember little insignificant facts like 'oh, when I was ten I offered my soul to the devil for a cookie'; or 'oh yeah, we played with a Ouija board a bunch of times and conjured Satan'; or 'oh, that's right, our house is located on an Indian burrial ground' and so on and so forth. Like I said, little insignificant facts.
So with that said, sometimes being haunted isn't your fault. That's right, sometimes it's just gosh darn bad luck but here are some helpful tips...
If you live on any property that used to be a 'plantation' or had 'plantation' in the name, it's haunted. If you have a house with doors to rooms that lock from the outside, it's haunted. If your house is old and you have a basement, an attic, a cellar, a loft or any place that looks like it could have once been a dungeon, your house is haunted. Anything that is on or near creepy woods or has barns, narrow stairwells or used to be something along the lines of an old church, school house or insane asylum- gonna go out on a limb here and say, probably haunted.
Here's another helpful tip from yours truly: NEVER renovate your old house because from experience, ghosts don't tend to like it. Another hot tip: don't attempt spirit communication by trying to goad your ghostie into revealing itself becuase best case scenario, it DOES show it self and you shit yourself. Worst case scenario, the walls start shaking and your house tries to 'cleanse itself' of you (i.e. tries to kill you) and lets be honest, this scenario still ends with you shitting yourself, only you're dead and soiled instead of just soiled.
So there you go. Some tips about the paranormal that may or may not have known. Basic rule of thumb: everywhere is haunted and the only thing you can really do, is give your house up to the beasties because lets face it, they're invisible and you're never going to win that fight.
-Nadia X
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