SOS There’s A Lesbian Ghost In My House
Happy Halloween witches! Halloween night is fast approaching–a time where we should all be so psyched for little candy corns, pumpkin beer, and planning our “sexual but not” costumes for our Halloween event of choice …
Except I can’t. Why? WHY you ask? Well I’m actually a little preoccupied right now since Halloween night is also a time where ghouls and slutty-kitten-girls and ghosts wreak havoc on our lives and there is actually a lesbian ghost in my house.
I know what you’re thinking, “Ugh, seriously? *Another* story about lesbian ghosts?!” But save your bad attitude for someone else, I have to get this off my chest.
What I’m about to tell you is going to seriously frighten you. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable moving forward without telling you that. My family and I have known for years that a ghost has taken residency in our home, but lately it’s been f-ing out of control. The proof is undeniable in that there is no proof at all, because obviously you can’t prove that ghosts exist, have you lost your mind?
I do, however, have a little bit of evidence, though circumstantial. And the only reason I’m even sharing all of this with you is because I feel someone should know the details, lest my family is in a real life Amityville Horror situation and no one knows our whereabouts.
My ghost is a scratcher.
There are scratches on my door and my door alone. We have two small dogs who are fat and seven inches tall. They could not possibly reach the calculated angles required to make such scary marks. That is seriously terrifying, ghost, and I’m not having it.
My ghost is a squirrel killer.
My dad claims that my dog Bindy is “probably responsible for the dead squirrel” that I found in the backyard–because he alleges that she once killed a cardinal bird before–but that ideology is flawed for two reasons. One, Bindy’s aura does not speak murderer and two, she knows how much cardinals mean to me both in the animal kingdom and college sports; she would never do it. She was definitely bringing it in the house to show us proof of a ghost killer, and I’m sad to report that because we as a family failed to recognize that, Mr. Squirrel has become our ghost’s last victim.
My ghost is a lesbian.
I have a baby blanket that is so thin from years of snuggling and about a week ago (“a week agooooooo”) I was blissfully asleep, when I could feel someone tongue poking me from the other side of the blanket. I could just tell it was a woman. It didn’t inherently bother me because I’m totally down with lesbians, I just don’t really want them tonguing me in the mouth. Frankly, I don’t want anyone tonguing me in the mouth when I’m experiencing the all important hours of REM sleep, unless it’s George Clooney or Wilmer Valderrama, but you knew that.
My ghost is not stylish.
To back up a few of my previous points further, my ghost has super butch taste in wardrobe. But not like “cool butch”, actually butch-butch. The other day I was wearing this XL plaid zip up with black leggings, a scrunchie, and suede moccasins (because it was cold and I am allowed to surrender myself to comfort sometimes ok?) To her credit, it had a super cute ’90s flavor so if she is an old ghost, maybe she’s just super chic and ahead of her time. Any how, as soon as my look was complete, the upstairs doors started slamming all over the place, obviously signaling to me that she loved the look. My parents said the logical explanation was that the windows were open, so the “mix of wind and air pressure between rooms” made the doors slam, but there’s like, no way that’s the reason.
My ghost likes A$AP Rocky and hard rap.
The other day I was home alone and performing a flawless rap concerto in the shower, when I saw a sudden shadow whip across my face that was not my own. I threw the shower curtain open to find no one there, which was beyonnnnnnnnd rude of her. So I’m like, back to melodically ripping apart Drake’s solo in “F-ckin’ Problems” when I realized that this was exactly how people die in horror movies. I shut off A$AP before Kendrick Lamar’s closing piece and threw on One Direction, which seemed to get rid of her, at least for now.
This may be cliché, but my ghost totally lives in the basement.
It is to my disdain that our dog Bindy might be a little homophobic–and our family does not support homophobia in any type of way and we are working on that with her–but the fact is that Bean, our male dog loves to go in the basement. Like, loves it. And Bindy really won’t go down there at all unless coerced with a special treat? Do you THINK this is a coincidence that our homophobic dog would not want to willingly step foot into the domain of a lesbian ghost? I don’t think so either … But still, get over it Bindy, it’s 2014.
My ghost loves my blog.
She just does, I can tell.
My ghost might be a guy, but she’s definitely not a guy.
While my experience with our ghost whore has been anything but pleasant, my mom has had the opposite reaction. First, Mom thinks this ghost is a man or a “very large woman” (unclear). However, when asked to support that theory with evidence like I have so beautifully done above … no dice. There are days when she thinks this ghost tries to wake her up in the morning, or she hears it walking around in her room. But as I’ve told her, I am a dainty girl and I could easily make manly stomps if I felt so inclined. So her theory means nothing to me, I don’t understand it. But she is a witness that there’s a ghost, so she gets in the blog.
One More Thing I don’t understand though is that I am, to my own profound shock, out of creative ideas to get rid of my phreakish and unphashionable phantom. I feel like we might have been good friends under different circumstances, but honestly how could this kind of ghost-human friendship ever flourish if she doesn’t like One Direction? So overwhelming. If I think of anything clever, I will personally call you and let you know.
I have observably proven my case, as if you didn’t know I would (???) and will sleep a little more soundly tonight knowing the world has heard my struggle. However there is still one unanswered question.
Now (and this is important), is she an Ellen or a Portia? Is she a Jane Lynch or an Ellen Page? I just don’t know, and probably never will. I will say, though, that I have a sneaking suspicion she is the ghost of Rosie O’Donnell’s thin soul who died when she gained all of that weight in 2002, but I’m still completely unsure.
Do you have any ghost stories? Is there a lesbian ghost in your home? Well I don’t care because like I said, I need help with mine. But if you do have one, call me, maybe we can set them up.
KP
I think as long as the ghost likes your blog, keep her around. As long as she starts pimping it to famous important people like Clooney so you can get famous and marry him.
Hahaha yeah but what if she doesn’t start pimping it out? And I’m stuck with a fan girl ghost, I can’t have that.
Then you at least tell her she has to haunt your bitter rivals. So you can get some use out of her.
She really needs to get on the one direction train… that’s just disgraceful