Oh, my GOD, could you be more wrong? Coconut cake, coconut cream pie, coconut anything are all the Devil's handiwork. I will make an exception for coconut oil, because it's making my hair look fantastic. (In addition, I agree with this bride's need for six corgis for her wedding because I need six corgis in my life…

I would also add to this that he has no CONCEPT of what it was/is to be a cool kid. If that melty-faced weirdo was in the in-crowd, anywhere (before making an ungodly amount of money, that is), I'll eat my hat.

You raised hell at Jesus Camp. I like you.

You are an extremely nice person. I have 2 parents who are not quite as bad as your neighbour, but they're close, and I can only deal with them in ten minute increments. Don't know how you're so patient, but I admire it a great deal!

WHAT? No. What?!!

I would go there, and I would drink lots of it.

Lord, yes. I hope Dora is stealing everything that isn't nailed down. And spiking that woman's late night warm milk with like, hella knockout drops or something, so that she (Dora) can get a moment of peace! Fun fact about my nutso family: My bugfuck crazy aunt had a cook who was like Dora. When I asked him why…

That's what it's like in there, exactly. I've scared myself so much that I have to stop reading. I'm going to D-listed, now, to giggle my fears away.

Nope, I did it, too. I still have one of my old stuffed bears.

My thoughts exactly. That and Oh, Hayl NOPE.

Ummmmmmm. WHAT THE FUCK!???

Plus Dick Cheney. (I do not mean to joke, but your story scared me so much, I am doing the digital equivalent of bursting into hysterical, nervous laughter.)

I LOVED Cricket Mag. Glad to know that it's still around.

It's a fantastic story. It creeped me out for days.

My BF is out of town, and he gave me a stern lecture before he left about me reading these stories. Fie on him! Having said this, I am thanking GOD that I live in townhouses where I can hear my neighbours, they can hear me, and we're all friends. If a ghost snatches me up in the night, they'll hear it. I hope.

Get out of my head, Goddess. ; )

Right? I read the two incidences and now I'm trying to figure out how I can barricade the door without moving from my spot (in case I am killed in my own house etc.). My BF is away for the weekend. Damn him.

And that, right there, is why I will not camp. Ever. I have seen every Friday the 13th movie ever made, and I look upon them as cautionary tales.

HOLY HELL! *shudder*

Jesus. H. Shiva Allah Buddha. I HATE stories like this. It's too scary for words. You were FACE TO FACE with someone who was about to murder your whole house. I don't know how you are able to sleep. I don't generally get freaked out by scary stories, but this one made my stomach drop like a rock.