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It's gone the witching hour. Lets tell a ghost story. One line at a time. I'l start-
It was a long stormy night...
V. good book
im not gonna shorten any of em now tho
there was this guy right,an archaeologist,who went on a dig to some coast in wales.
his first day there,he joined the local golf tournament.he got paired up with an old army officer,a beast of a man,and whooped his ass at golf.army guy wasnt happy bout this.
our guy heads off to the dig site,and is shocked to find the tide so close to it.he rushes over just in time to see all the work washed away.he is then surprised to see a glint in the murk.he thinks its a dig tool,so he picks it up.
its a heavy sphere,that falls open upon examination.its completly hollow,apart from a whislte.he smiles,and blows it.no sound.
he starts to walk home.
as he sleeps,he has a dream of a man running throu th dig site.he looks very frightenend,and tried to hide behind some rubble,out of view.something fast comes along joltingly,stops,and continues at a right angle towards the hiding man.our guy wakes up
anyway,thats the start to 'whistle my bot,and ill come get you'
supposed to a classic or somefing
was about a girl on a swing with a ribbon round her neck, and the ribbon was keeping her head on.
and he goes out for a meal cos he's away from home, on work or something . DOESN'T MATTER WHY. by the time he gets back its really dark and he gets to his room, lets himself in and when he gets in there is a pale woman sitting on the bed. he says hello but she doesn't respond so he just goes out and sleeps in a chair in reception.
the next day, he goes to whatever work thing he has to do that isn't relevent to this story. when he comes back it's late again, and he is a bit creeped out by the woman in there the night before so he looks in the keyhole to see if anyones in the room but all he can see is red.
this confuses him so he goes to reception and sits back in the same chair as the night before and the receptionist sees him and is like "wtf man, again?" and he says "yeah, yesterday i saw a woman in my room, and today i couldn't see if she was there again, so better not walk in on her again, cos she's think i'm a rapist or something"
the receptionist says "we don't usually rent out that room cos there was a murder in there" and the guy is like "WUT?", and the receptionist says "yeah, it was just when i started working here and this couple went in, and then the police arrested the husband. it was ages ago but i remember it cos the woman was albino, and was really pale with big red eyes"
and the man is like " : O " and shits himself or something
that terrified me.
"THERE'S A FUCKING WOMAN IN MY FUCKING ROOM."
he told me he thought there'd been a mix up with the keys
"I think there's been a mix up with the keys".
So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the vioce is "wut r u doing wit my daughter?" U tell ur girl n she say "my dad is ded". THEN WHO WAS PHONE?
I was on the way home from a night on the lash, you know the kind where you spend the busride itemising your bar tab, and trying to account for a rogue £30. I was sitting on the top deck of the bus, which contained your general night bus riffraff.
At the back of the bus were five young black guys, who were vociferously discussing their night's activities, which on turning my ipod down appeared to have consisted of a series of muggings. They then turned their attention to the other occupants of the bus, loudly making derogative comments on people's hair, clothes, girlfriend etc. This was where I started to get slightly apprehensive: I have a shaved head and was wearing a Maiden t-shirt. I couldn't have been more conspicuous if I had a swastika tattooed on my scalp.
I decided to remove myself from a potentially nasty situation: I was a few stops from home, and when comparing a five minute walk and a reet good shoeing, the former seemed a far more attractive proposition. I got up, rang the bell and made my way downstairs. However, just as I stepped off the bus I heard a commotion upstairs, and the five guys came running down the stairs. I turned round and got off the bus, with them squeezing out of the closing doors.
I got that feeling, the one where your adrenal gland has just been booted into action by the shudder of cold fear spasming through your body. I was walking away from the bus stop, and heard them shout after me. 'Fight' didn't get a look in - 'flight' muscled it's way into my brain, and I was just about to leg it when a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in my neighbourhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared and said you're moving with your auntie and uncle in bel-air. I begged and pleaded with her day after day but she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way. She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket: I put my walkman on and said I might as well kick it. First class, yo this is bad,Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of bel-air living like, hmm this might be alright! But wait I hear they're prissy and all that, is this the type of place that they should send this cool cat? I don't think so I'll see when I get there: I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air. Well the plane landed and when I came out there was a dude looked like a cop standing there with my name out. I ain't trying to get arrested yet - I just got here - I sprang with the quickness like lightning disappeared: I whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare but I thought 'Man, forget it' yo home to Bel-Air. I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 and I yelled to the cabbie "Yo Homes, smell ya later!" I looked at my kingdom I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.