Archive for weird stuff

Something That Would Totally Freak Me Out

Posted in Paranormal, Pop Culture with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 1, 2011 by Nicole Chardenet

Jim Morrison.  In my bed. Watching me.  I’d freak.

This supposedly is happening to a woman in Virginia who, along with her mother, moved into the former Morrison home.  The daughter – who looks like she probably isn’t old enough to even remember The Doors – says she was lying in bed and she looked over and there was the Lizard King himself, sorta transparent and foggy, staring back at her.  Some of the neighbours told them later that “Little Jimmy” used to live there (one neighbour doesn’t even know who he is – “Some musician or something?”) and you can just tell by the look on Mom’s face when asked if she’s jealous that Jim visits her daughter instead of her, that she’d only be jealous if it was the ghost of Frank Sinatra.

Turn me on, dead man. No wait, that was some other dead rock guy.

Okay, look, I know Jimbo was hot in his day and all, but he is – and I would like to emphasize this point - a totally dead guy.  Why is this woman not running out of the house screaming?  I know I would be, and I totally get why women thought Jimbo was a major babemeister.  But, you know, that was when he had a pulse and dropped a lot of acid and wrote really really bad song lyrics and stuff.

(Oh please.  Don’t look at me like that.  The man was about as much of a poet as a Vogon.  Just look at the lyrics for Riders on the Stormdoes that not sound like it was written by someone tripping his ass off on the roof of a motel on Venice Beach?  Because that was, as a matter of fact, the conditions under which Jim Morrison wrote most of his song lyrics, which explains why they sound like they were written by a fairly weird ten-year-old.)

Man, all I know is if I rolled over and there was some dude lying next to me and I recognized him as Jim Morrison, probably the sexiest man alive in 1968 if People magazine was doing that sort of thing, I mean even if he was the younger pre-overweight, pre-Charles Manson’s-hair-and-beard Jim Morrison, I’d freak and be running so fast out of Virginia I’d be halfway through Ohio by now.

Look, I’ve put a lot of thought into this.  Not what to do when you wake up with a ghost, but why it’s a very, very bad idea to sleep with Jim Morrison.

This is, believe it or not, the basis of the novel I’m currently working on.  It’s inspired by my Jim Morrison-loving friend Elaine who ran into the Hard Rock Cafe here in Toronto a few years ago to take pictures of Monsieur’s boots when I told her I’d seen them there.

That’s all I can say for now.  And that no, it doesn’t involve anyone digging up his corpse and committing weird violations that would horrify even Jeffrey Dahmer.

I’m just saying, it’s a very bad idea to sleep with dead people.  Under any circumstances.

And if they’re invading your bed in the house that you and your Mom bought, a house that the dead guy hasn’t lived in since he was a teenager, he should stay the hell out of your bedroom, at the very least, and if he doesn’t, call in the exorcist.

I’d show Mr. some serious Mojo Risin’!

I like it weird ;)

Posted in Paranormal, Pop Culture, Science/Technology with tags , , , , , on March 26, 2011 by Nicole Chardenet

Uh, sorry, this isn’t about my sexual proclivities.  I’m not sure if I even have sexual proclivities, as I’m not entirely certain what “proclivities” are.  I do, however, have a jones for anything weird and bizarre.  Not necessarily sexual things weird and bizarre either – I leave that to my e-mail friend A.Lizard in San Francisco who used to hang out in alt.tasteless back in the day and send me stuff on the weirdest sexual fetishes he could find.  He’s found some pretty weird shit over the years, including fetishes for guys who like seeing women consumed in quicksand, guys who like seeing women get stuck to the sidewalk or the floor, guys who like to see women being cooked and eaten, and my all-time fave, some dude who has fantasies of wrapping the late Roy Orbison (who, thankfully, appears to be alive in all of them) in clingfilm.  Or Saran Wrap, as us Yanks & Canucks call it.

No, I’m not going to link to all those.  I’ll give you the pleasure of Googling on them yourself ;)  And interestingly, the sites he sent for that other stuff didn’t come across as nearly misogynist and brutal as you might think; at least in the ones he forwarded to me, the female models appeared to either be having fun or at least trying to keep a straight face.  (And it must be hard to look terrified when you’ve got a plastic apple in your mouth and are trussed up in a giant turkey pan being shoved into the world’s least-convincing oven.)

Anyway, I’m really sorry that Lizard got a life several years ago, because he stopped sending weird stuff.  Now he just sends really depressing articles about how Goldman Sachs and Bank of America are going to suck us all dry of blood, life force and money.  Or how Wells Fargo is planning to foreclose on anyone who owns a house anywhere in the United States, and toss them rudely out into the street while they hoover up the rest of that family’s money.  Including Obama’s.  Including Warren Buffett’s.  Even including Bill Gates’s, whose house is probably worth a helluva lot more than Buffett’s, who bought his for like $15,000 back when God was a child.

No, the weird stuff I’m into is, just, anything silly or funny or science fiction-y that might inspire me for a future novel some day.  Which is why I blogged about Atlantis the other day, when archaeologists thought they’d found it (again).  Or spiders that can make you horny (and then kill you).  I mean, that’s just really funny.  It reminds me actually of a plot element in a novel I haven’t come out with yet, although it doesn’t involve spiders, it involves another critter you ordinarily would never, EVER think of when it comes to sex, but I found a really bizarre ancient myth that provided the inspiration for what I hope will be the creepiest gorgeous villainess of all time.

I even began subscribing to a paranormal weekly newsletter in hopes that it would provide fun fodder for my already overactive imagination as well as weird blog posts but so far it seems to be just the same-old-same-old.  Grainy pictures of Bigfoot that could be practically anything (great gods!  We’ve been filming Bigfoot for like fifty years and today we have wicked high-tech ultra-zoom cameras and killer satellite technology and still Bigfoot looks like he could be, well, almost anything except Bigfoot.) Or ghost videos which I figure almost anyone can produce now with a little photoshopping.  Still, just this week the newsletter asked, “Is Nibiru approaching?”  And I was all like, WTF, who is Nibiru, and is he really hot???”  But unfortunately, Nibiru is simply some planetary body that is either a mysterious planet (if you ask the Nibir-rubes) or a complete delusion, if you ask the scientists.  And if they’re wrong, Nibiru is going to wreak utter destruction on Planet Earth.  However Nibiru may not have time as the repeatedly no-show Rapture has been rescheduled for May 21st of this year, with the end of the world slated for October 21st.  Might want to pack an extra set of clothes on May 21st as supposedly the Lord likes to take his Elect up in their birthday suits, because in most locations October’s going to be a bit chilly for flying around in the Full Monty.

(Not that I expect to be Raptured.  Nor do I expect to bite the big one next to John Cusack while the world goes to pieces on December 21st, 2012.  No, I anticipate, after the life I’ve led so far, that I will most likely be reincarnated as a much lower life form, like a cockroach or a reality TV star or, worst of all, a Republican.)

What I mostly want is weird stuff.  REALLY weird stuff!  LOTS of really weird stuff!  (And not necessarily sexual, either, unless it enables me to come up with a more farked-up scenario than I did for that aforementioned villainess – and let me tell you, that one really took the biscuit.  I mean, I felt compelled to add a piece at the back saying, “I know that was really farked up and I didn’t invent it myself, blame some ancient dead guy!”)  Like, my fave weird story from this week was Iran claiming to have built a flying saucer that looks remarkably like a movie flying saucer.  I have to admit, I just love Iranian President Ahmadinejad. He’s so delightfully stupid, and we haven’t had any world leaders providing the liberal-biased media with really good sound bytes since George W. Bush left office.  In Ahmy’s Holocaust-denying, gay-free Iran, cleavage can cause earthquakes world, he’s way better than Hugo Chavez, who just tends to sound like a froth-at-the-mouth uber-Marxist idiot.

Then again, you just never know where the next inspiration may come from.

Just consider this a warning.


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