Paranormal Post-Its

It’s tiring leading a double life.  By day I masquerade as a lowly, humble pornography dispenser at railways sidings, but this is merely a day job.  At night is where my real work can be conducted, away from the nervous eyes and closed minds of the general populace.  Little do my friends and family know that I am also a paranormal investigator.

Sure, I haven’t worked as a paranormal investigator in any official sense, but I have watched many straight to TV Sci Fi films, and have been able to guess the endings to X Files episodes with a 65% accuracy.  It’s astounding that I haven’t been able to convert this uncanny ability into any kind of monetary wealth, so much so that it could be considered paranormal in itself.  I ought to look into that.  Regardless, I thought I’d talk to you about some of the supernatural oddities that I have encountered during my investigations.

My first case started back when I was 11.  I was just an ordinary kid, eating worms and trying to figure out alternative uses for elastic bands, charting trajectory and velocity, and making mental notes in the name of science.  At school, we were all used to blackboards or chalkboards, but our school was blessed to receive a rare, exotic whiteboard.  This was gifted to us as part of a government grant for having the least decapitated pupils in our area for the academic year.  Whiteboards are just like blackboards except they are a little bit pale in comparison, and you write on them with markers instead of chalk.  Markers that mark things.  The kind that if you marked your own face with one in an attempt to look like a tiger, your mother would pour liquid soap into your eyes and scream “Why won’t it come off!?” while your dad dials for an ambulance.

Markers are for boards, not faces

 I sat in the inaugural lesson in which the whiteboard was unveiled.  A lady popped open a bottle of champagne, a brass band was teleported in, and streamers came out of my ears in celebration.  Once the fuss had calmed down, the teacher went about her usual business of teaching us how to breathe, or something equally unimportant.  Just as the class was nodding off, the teacher nonchalantly picked up a scraggy cloth, and wiped the letters away.  They just disappeared as though they had never been there.

“What kind of devilry is this?!” I shrieked from the back of the room, leaping from my desk and knocking over three other students in my surprise.  As I went to the front of the class to conduct an investigation into this matter, I was restrained by the teacher and removed from the room.   I was never allowed to conclude my experiments, and was promptly excluded after urinating on the board during break, trying to lure the demons out with the nearest holy water substitute I had to hand.

As I grew up I came across more and more strange incidents that are unexplainable by religion, science, or a curious blend of the two that I like to call, reliance.  When I was 17, I woke up for my nightly poo only to find that the toilet seat was mysteriously warm.  No one else had sat on the toilet since I had 10 minutes previously, when I felt having a sit down wee as a treat.  So why was it warm?  Had hot ghosts been using my bathroom?  I was so frightened that I couldn’t finish and had to go back to bed unsatisfied.

A nice toilet will attract a classier sort of ghost

 More recently, I came across a set of paranormal post-it notes that would make your blood crawl and your hair boil.  Unlike ordinary post-its, these ones possess abilities that would make David Blaine eat his own shit.  Simply write something on them, as usual, then tear it off and press it flat against a wall or flat vertical surface.  Then, remove your hand, and these post-its stay in place as if by magnets!  I intend to write a 1000 page dossier on this phenomenon and present it to the Pope, asking how he could allow the production of possessed stationary.

If you have any mysteries that you’d like me to look into, please take my business card.  If you can’t reach them from wherever you are, simply write about your experiences in the comments box below.  I’ll respond to you as soon as I’ve finished molesting the invisible man who sleeps in my bed.

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For more Muppety goodness, I've done a guest post over at Elton Says Things.  Go and read it, then go and read his stuff.  All of it.  Once you're done, you can probably go and read something else.