This is a scary/funny story (not ghostly)....

Ok, I’ll throw my hat in the ring: my first apartment when I moved to Chicago was in kind of a bad neighborhood. I wound up there partly because I didn’t know the city very well and partly because I couldn’t afford much. The guys in the building next door dealt all kind of drugs including heroin and they were always…

Hey, I’m in the club! Thanks Madeleine. And Maria.

I was attending Bergen community college in the mid 70's....We had taked a field trip to an older ladies house in Ridgewood NJ on the street leading from Midland Park, it was a pink victorian. When we got there we were shown around the house. The lady had dozens of shelved collection cases filled with everything from…

I posted this on the submission thread but I was too late for anyone to read it so here it is again:

I’ll share a brief everyday horror which happened to a friend.

I’m so glad the badass cat hero story made the cut!! Also, not going to get any work done the rest of the day because the comments always fill up with additional stories, yay!!

“We didn’t have an armoire.”

I was asking about the face in the window story at the hotel. Did you apologize?

I got into it on facebook with someone who was taking that idea and running with it... this was basically my response:

I have no such luxury, as the Trumpkins in my feed are relatives and neighbors I can’t unfriend. I’ve just been unfollowing, over and over, the web sites they share batshit Trump propaganda from.

I listened to colleagues today saying that they were skeptical of the women who have accused Trump because it’s very CONVENIENT that they all started accusing him at once, years after the fact, so obviously Hillary paid them to accuse him. We’re not even American. Shitting on sexual assault victims clearly unites…

Please sign up for my new group, GAZELLES FOR CHEETAH.

“If [Trump] hated women so much, how could he be married three times?”

This makes me unaccountably happy. Your great-grandpa is pleased to have ‘family’ in the house.

Not a paranormal story, but I was incredibly creeped out by this.

I’ve never posted, so this might live in the greys forever. But!

This happened several years ago, when I first moved to L.A. and rented a place in a charmingly old/frustratingly old building. I almost took the efficiency next door, but splurged and went for the studio. I’m glad I did, and not just for the stove and the small amount of extra space. 

One of my great aunts owned a small farm in Wisconsin. Its was about 40-50 min outside of town and on weekends I’d sometimes go with my mom, brother, grandma, cousins, and whoever felt like going that weekend.

This is a bit of a long one, sorry.