The Ill Voice

The Ill Voice

We’ve all been there – you wake up dying to death of The Lurgy, and aside from being a bit worried about being dead, you realise that you have to phone in to work to tell them you’re ill.

Well, either that or you’ve decided you’re staying in bed for an All Day Shagging Sickie (yay!!!).

Either way, as soon as you dial that number, even if nothing is wrong with your actual voice in any way, you feel that you have to change your voice to The Ill Voice.

You could have a dismembered foot but when you call in for some reason you’ll feel you have to make your voice sound weak, broken, rough and pathetic.

Because I’m aware of this stupid play acting, the last time I had to call in sick I did a ‘normal’ voice.  It was a stomach upset and the start of flu-type lurgy, but I could speak normally.  They kept chasing me because they obviosuly didn’t think I was that ill!  They even asked me to call back later that day in case I’d miraculously recovered somehow in the space of a few hours?!

I know someone else who swore by smoking a cigarette as fast as she could immediately before calling in ill, just for the effect it had on her voice, making it meet the appropriate sick-sounding requirements.

Maybe I should start a campaign to allow people to call in ill without having to use The Sick Voice?  Raise awareness, and all that?

Do you use The Ill Voice?

If someone calls you up, do you think less of their reported illness if they’re not using The Ill voice?

Nasty Emo Ninja

Nasty Emo Ninja

I cut myself.

No, I don’t mean “I cut myself, woe is me etc”, I mean I very nearly sliced myself in twain!

Most of you will know I’m a bit handy in the kitchen, and I make sure my knives are SHARP.  I’ve switched to a ceramic chefs knife as my main tool, because it’s -ing awesome!

I’d just finished using it to make my sandwiches, and luckily washed off the Birdeye chilli’s I’d been slicing, and put its sheath back on, and for some reason my index finger caught the blade near the handle as I slid it back in a perfectly executed push-cut.

I felt it scrape across the bone which used to be covered by finger flesh and knew instantly I was in the poo.  There was very little pain because the bugger is so sharp, and it was so clean and deep that it barely even bled unless I opened the cut up.

I had a quick check fo any loss of feeling, movement and to make sure I hadn’t sliced through any tendons, and all seemed ok.  I compressed the wound for a while after washing it, decided it was pretty nasty and needed stitches… but I had a job interview the following morning and didn’t fancy getting to casualty at Midnight and waiting forever.  PLus where it was would mean they couldn’t stitch it anyway.

So, thinking back to what I’d read about superglue being invented for the battlefield during the war, I got out the strongest glue I had and used it on the cut.

Having been very careful about sticking my hand to things, it held up fine until a shower the next morning softened the glue and it bled again.  I re-glued it and went off to work.

The next day the glue had worn away, and my finger seemed to be held together ok with no more blood!

I know what I’ll be using in the future if I manage to stab myself up like a Londoner.

And on a related note, I watched a documentary last week about people (kids) in America (no comment) who believed they were Vampires and craved blood.  They would routinely cut each other and lick/suck the resulting blood.  Absolute bunch of Knob-Jockeys who said their souls were corrupt and all that malarkey.  One of their Mothers was in full support and even sat there whilst they tried to cut themselves (with the bluntest -ing knives I have ever seen in my life?!  I mean, surely if your whole being is cutting yourself you’d get a blade that could break the skin in less than 20 attempts???) and ‘feed’.

I’m pretty sure that’s an arrestable offense for a supervising adult, but meh.

And even better were the group who thought they were Werewolves.  They were pretty much the same as the Vampires, but they… wait for it… *sniggers* these ‘werewolves’ wore a stick-on tale on their little emo jeans!

https://i1.wp.com/brianchasnoff.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/wolfie-owen.jpg

What really got me was the way both of these groups would pick and change the rules, and just say “Yeah, that’s how us vampires/werewolves REALLY do it”.

The best of these was the girl who hung around with the werewolves, but insisted that she was actually a fox, not a wolf.

Seriously.

They did make one good observation, however: why don’t all the Emo kids who cut themselves do it for the vampire kids to feed on?

It’s a good question, and one that Charles Darwin would be very interested in, I’m sure.

My Little Ghosty, Skinny And Boney

My Little Ghosty, Skinny And Boney

I’ve seen ghosts for as long as I can remember.

I think it runs in my family – my Mum definitely has the ‘talent’, but I think I’ve got it even stronger. Maybe even more of a reason not to have kids!

But I have a regular ghost that I see fairly often.

Obviously, I’ve spoken to other mediums about it, and, even more often I’ve had other mediums tell me about it before I mention it.  Some tell me it’s my Spirit Guide.

I’m not entirely sure I believe in Spirit Guides, but I guess it would explain it.

What I see, is a shape out of the corner of my eye – almost like a shadow but more like… a person seen by the half-light of the moon. If I turn my head to look – it’s gone.

A few times, I’ve seen it much clearer – but still as a dark shape. I’d say without a doubt it’s male, and about my height, but other than that I can’t really make out much detail.

The clearer times that spring to mind when I’ve seen him were once stood in my hallway, and I saw him dart past the kitchen door so vividly that I thought it was a real person, and had to check! Another time I was in the graveyard with a few mates, and I looked towards the church to see him watching us from one corner.  He slunk slowly back out of sight after a few long seconds.

But the fleeting corner-of-the-eye visions are so frequent I don’t even bother mentioning them anymore!

I’m not scared when I’ve seen him. I don’t really feel anything.

If he is my Spirit Guide, then if he’s doing his duty then I’m protected by him!  A few mediums have said that there’s a man who rides on the back of my bike with me keeping me safe. I have been very lucky on several occasions, so maybe there’s something in it!

The name that keeps cropping up from others is someone Roberts, or possibly Robert someone. And he was possibly in the navy around the 1930s. Read into that what you will.  I just know what I see.

Occasionally I’ll see a ghost regularly for a period of time – then won’t see it again. This one did freak me out:

When we used to keep horses, I’d go to the stables after school or college to help out. From my house, I’d have to walk through the graveyard, and then down this tiny old path to get to the stables.

At the top of this path was a ‘Kissing Gate’ – one that you have to open, step to the side of it, then close it so you can step past it. I honestly can’t remember if it was dusk or broad daylight when all this happened…

I’d walk through this gate, which would close behind me with a metallic sound. But every night for 2 weeks, I’d get about 20 or 30 yards down this path, and then hear the gate close behind me again. It was strange – the wind couldn’t move the gate – it was a sound that was only made when someone opened it and let it swing closed again. I’d turn around, but nobody would be there – so I’d carry on.

On the last night, I heard it yet again, and turned around…. And saw a little girl stood in the middle of the path.

She was a bit pasty-looking, but solid enough – long thick dirty-white dress to her ankles, long hair tied back in a ponytail – in short, she looked like some fucking 10 year old kid from a black and white photograph.

She wasn’t exactly looking at me – more just through me, as if I wasn’t there. Nothing REALLY scary about her… except…

I’ve seen so many films and read stories about ghosts, that it’s these that freaked me out.

You know the type where they hear a noise, so they look behind them and see something in the distance, then as they turn back the way they were headed, it’s

THERE!!!!!!

RARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

RIGHT IN THEIR FUCKING FACE TWO INCHES AWAY SCREAMING AND SLOBBERING WITH BIG POINTY TEETH AND LETHAL TALONS!!!!!!!!!

RARRRRRR!!!!!!!!!

So I was edging down the path backwards, terrified to turn around because of a few fucking movies and books. Eventually I got my head back together and turned the fk away.

Of course, when I looked back once more – she’d gone.

I think I may have even seen her twice.

I’ve since heard my mates re-telling this story, and in traditional style, she’s morphed into to scary little Freddy Krueger type girl, singing nursery rhymes and skipping with a rope. Nice – but what you read here is the original, straight from the horses (helpers) mouth!

I think this little story is why ‘The Others’ freaks me out so much, because of the similarity to parts of the film…

And don’t worry – there’s plenty of really scary ghost stories yet to come!!!!

EROTIC STORY: “On A Crowded Train…”

EROTIC STORY: “On A Crowded Train…”

When he whispered urgently in her ear, “Take them off”, she wasted no time in pushing through the crowded train to the toilet.

After pressing her back against his throbbing erection one more time, of course.

She returned and greeted him with a kiss as he pulled her to him.

“Give them to me.”

She retrieved her thongs from her purse and stuffed them into his jacket pocket, knowing he thought she was calling his bluff.

His eyes sparkled as he ran his strong hands over her hips, down the mini-skirt and dragging his nails gently over the exposed flesh of her thighs.

“What do you want to do to me?” she purred in his ear.

“I want you so much…” he replied.  One of the nearby passengers glanced their way, as if he’d overheard.  She felt herself get wetter at the sound of his voice and the thought that the stranger now knew what was coming as well as her.

She turned her back to him, and he slid his arms around her waist as she pressed against him again.

She eased forwards slightly and slipped her hand between them, sliding his zipper down and reaching inside.

He sighed in her ear as her warm hand wrapped around him, carefully guiding his penis out into the cool open air.

The train pulled into a stop, and she kept him in her hand, then just as the doors opened she slipped him between her legs, holding him between her thighs and pressed against her.

A few people stepped off the train, and more got on, creating even more of a crush.  She moved her hips slightly, her wetness letting him slide easily against her as she pushed him back harder into the corner.

As the doors closed, she slightly lifted one leg, and it was all she could do to stop herself crying out as he entered her quickly and easily.

He kissed her lightly on her neck, just below her ear and she shivered.  He was pressing hard against her g-spot.

She looked around her to see everyone was avoiding eye contact with everyone else, as usual.  It just looked like he was stood innocently with his arms around her.  She smiled, and wondered if any knew more was going on.  Maybe some were watching from the reflections in the window?

He lightly bit her earlobe, and she closed her eyes.  The constant buffeting from the train, and it’s subtle rocking motions were doing a lot more for the sensation than she thought they would.

His arms tightened around her as if he was thinking the same, then he quickly shifter her hips, and she was glad he’d tightened his grip to stop her from bending forwards.

They were both breathing deeply, hearts pounding so hard with the excitement it was a miracle if none of the people stood next to them couldn’t hear it!

She wanted to touch herself – she wanted his fingers touching her, but had to resist, instead grasping at the back of his thigh with one hand.  He responded by easing into her even more.

He smiled looking down at her and seeing her starting to flush over her chest.

She teased him inside her using her muscles, and he almost groaned out loud, quickly recovering it to fake a cough.

He throbbed inside her and she knew he was close, as was she, but the train slowed again as it pulled into a station.

As it braked she let the forces press her against him, feeling his whole body twitch subtly as he fought against his imminent orgasm.

She barely noticed the people moving past her through the open doors, staring intently at the Exit sign over the opposite door, so turned on that if anyone brushed her nipple as they squeezed through it would undoubtedly send her over the edge.

It seemed like an eternity until the door closed again, the acceleration pulling her slightly away from him and making her eyes roll back in her head.

She felt him swell inside her, and felt the heat as he came inside her as he pulled her back onto him, squeezing her hard around her middle, and she heard herself whimper far away as the rolling tides of her own orgasm crashed over her.

Her legs went weak and she sagged against him, turning her head to the window but knowing people had turned around at her cry.

He nuzzled into her neck, kissing her again.

She waited a few long minutes with him inside her, until they approached the next station.  As they slowed he withdrew from her and tucked himself away as the train came to a stop.  They both stepped off ahead of the crowd, and he wrapped his arms around her again.

Neither dared look back at the train at the accusing faces…  But they laughed…