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Knock once for Yes & Twice for No

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The past two weekends I’ve been raking about in the dark til silly o’clock in the morning. Armed to the teeth with gadgets, in an attempt to converse with the dead. When I say ‘converse with the dead’, I mean, pratting about with my mate, sniggering like Beavis & Butthead & tutting at fakery & those more gullible than ourselves. Not that I am a non believer. More of a hopeful skeptic who needs to test all scientific reasoning first.

Our first adventure was at Fort Paull with Glen, the resident skeptic, from the ‘Most Haunted’ team.


I am in there somewhere – in a yellow coat


We liked Glen

In the supposedly haunted train carriage (which nobody seemed to know the history of) we almost had a stand up row with a lady who was determined to kill a moth.  “It deserves to die!” she screeched whilst removing her walking boot to try and squish it against the window.  “They’re not like butterflies inside you know” said her mate.  “A butterfly has innards and stuff when you squash one – but a moth is just dust. They’re just made of dust”.

Who the hell squashes a butterfly?

Who does that?

We managed to persuade her to leave the moth alone by employing stern teacher voices.

The venue was very interesting.  Comprising underground tunnels, a Beverley Bomber and various artillery gun thingumies  – and a shitload of moths, just for our lepidopterophobic friend.  An entertaining session on a ouija board ensued where I was seemingly contacted by someone called ‘Ash’. I denied any knowledge of knowing anyone of this name until Linda could tell by the look in my eye that I did.  Through stifled laughter I explained that the only Ash I knew was my eldest childerbeast’s dead dwarf hamster!  And that I doubted very much that he had gained the ability to spell in the afterlife, particularly as he only had one eye when he was alive!  One of the ladies around the board then suggested that perhaps the deceased had been cremated and this is why they were spelling out ‘Ash’ when asked their name.


Time for a wander and an explore.


Anybody there. Where? There on the stair


Creepy Wheelchair in the Victorian Hospital area

We did have a moment like that film “Left Behind” when the Rapture comes and claims the pious.  We got split up from our group in one of the tunnels and realised we were wandering about a deserted garrison on our own, calling out to the living this time rather than the dead.  “Hallooo is there anybody there?”  We were half expecting to find piles of clothes on the ground.
We were finally put out of our misery by the lovely Glen who appeared behind a laser-grid pen from inside the Beverley Bomber.


There’s those Lidl blow-up dolls again


Come aboard the lurve train


Note to self:  if you want to keep things on a serious note, it’s probably best not to say things like “Have we got any seamen with us?” and not expect at least a bit of an immature titter in the dark.

Making the most of our visit to Hull, we decided in the morning to visit the supposed haunted hostel in DeGrey Street, Hull where Bman used to live.  He didn’t live at the haunted property (although he says he wouldn’t go in the attic room out of fear). He lived 3 doors up.  I say lived.  I mean squatted.  ūüôā

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Money for old rope anyone?

Am not convinced by the authenticity of this alleged haunted property.  It smacks to me of a decrepit old house someone can’t be arsed to renovate to a livable standard so a spooky back story has been invented.  I’ve told Bman we need to do this ourselves.  Bid on some old battered fixer-upper at auction and float some ideas out on the internet about spectral goings-on and then charge ghosthunters ¬£40 a head to wander around it in the dark with torches on a weekend.


Last Friday we opted out of the (not quite yet) end of term drunken teachers shenanigans in Leeds and went instead to Bradford City Hall.  A beautiful building in the middle of a big shithole.  


They don’t build them like they used to 




Raking about again in the dark. debunking charlatans and trying not to actually laugh out loud at Stuart the Medium as he rather camply said; “Ooh hello Colin. I’ve got a gentleman called Colin here” and “Push the table harder for the ladies Colin, they like it harder. get it up on two legs for them Colin rather than 4”. as well as, “Let’s have a bit of vibration Gerry (it had changed from Colin to Gerry by this time) the ladies like things that vibrate.”

Alright Stuart – that’s enough now!


Steve Irwin was here before the stingray got him

Not sure that Stuart liked it when we went rogue and wandered off around the old police cells by ourselves.  Not sure he could cope with us being seemingly unperturbed by the dark and the unknown, or the fact that we had our own tech.  Admittedly his tech was way funner (it’s a word) than ours:-  Sound amplifying headphones, weird rag dolls with light up eyes, interactive bears and night vision goggles.  We found ourselves especially hilarious at 1:45am when using an Ovulus speaking device and decided we must surely have contacted the spirit of Norman Collier.


Why hello there Norman

Am pretty sure Stuart was glad to be rid of us at 2am.  No comedy wanderings through the streets of Bradford, chasing lights this time – just straight home.

Until next time, at Armley Mills in October, where I may not be so blase about it because that place is creepy in the bloody day time, as I think I have said before.

Ciao MoFos (alive or dead)










Still here then.

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So I didn’t deactivate FarceBook, but I haven’t looked at¬†it as much and to be honest it doesn’t look like I have missed much.¬† Thank you to those who private messaged me to ask if I was alright.

I have mostly spent the last few days explaining to small people that killer clowns are not to be feared as they are just silly people with nothing better to do than stand about in bushes¬†waving plastic weapons. Ignore them! Don’t give them the satisfaction of letting them know you actually saw them.¬† It’s the ones without masks that look normal that they should really be afraid of. (I didn’t actually say the last bit out loud).

This ridiculous phase has even made it onto BBC Look North this evening. Complete with comedic scary looking clown imagery looming over a map of North Yorkshire.  Cut to John Cundy, Crime Correspondent, reporting very seriously, from somewhere or other on the matter.  Could only have been more entertaining if he had been wearing a red nose or a green wig.  Privately I am hoping that off camera, out of view, he was sporting giant hooped trousers under his mac or a pair of ludicrously bendy giant shoes just to try and make the camera man lose his focus.

You know I would have done if it was me…. and this is why I’ll never be a serious news reporter.


Meanwhile, to prove that the dead don’t scare me nearly as much as the living – ¬†I have booked to go spend an evening investigating 30 East Drive in Pontefract in the New Year with my friend.¬† It is one of, if not THE most (allegedly) haunted house in the UK. (AKA money for old rope).¬† Quite the cash cow so it would seem.¬† Am considering installing Bman in the loft to moan and make unusual smells (skills¬†he has in spades) while I charge ¬£60 a head, 5 nights a week, ¬†for people to sit in my lounge in the dark, asking if there’s anybody there.

Ciao Xx


A good scare these days is hard to find

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Exibit A

Exhibit A

Did I not say ony yesterday that Bman continually finds it amusing to put stickers on my stuff?  I discovered this on my bag while I sat in the cinema yesterday afternoon!


Yes, I went to the movies, to see something not made by Pixar for a change Рnot that I am knocking Pixar & the like РI love a bit of animation.  It was good to get to go and see a grown up film for a change though Рand great to see some friends.

I scoffed to myself at the disclaimer at the beginning of The conjuring claiming it was all based on a true story (sure it was, just like that stinker, The Blair Witch Project) but it turns out it actually was:

Even after reading everything about the Amityville case and many other supposed possession/haunting stories from America (why is it always America – are they weaker than us Brits or something? Why so many in the 70’s too?¬† Acid casualties¬†maybe or the demons objecting to the cheesecloth shirts and bellbottoms perhaps?)

Anyway I should have recognised the names of Ed and Lorraine Warren.
$109 for dinner with the lady herself and a tour round her museum of demonic artefacts… I’m in!

I enjoyed the movie and got a couple of decent scares out of it.¬† It did seem to have rather a lot going on though and raised the usual questions: – Why are you still in the damn house?¬†For god’s sake why haven’t you got a decent torch.¬† The cellar was clearly blocked off¬†for a reason so brick the fucker back up!¬† And get those matches away from that 1970’s wincyette¬†nightgown before the whole¬†place goes up like Piper Alpha!
The dog had more sense – it wouldn’t go inside the house.¬† If that’s not a clue right there then I don’t know what is.¬† Listen to your pets dudes – they know stuff.

¬† Clich√©s aside (imaginary friends, freaky tree outside the house; blocked up cellars; pictures falling off the wall; funky smells, weird old fashioned music box, rotating heads¬†etc).¬†I liked this film and didn’t immediately think What a¬† crock of shit!”¬†which is what I did later on when tuning in to Film 4 to watch Splice’¬†– utter bobbins, don’t watch it!

It got me thinking about these possessed artefacts though.¬† I loved the way, (after a bit of research¬†on the old Google) that the film makers used considerable¬†artistic licence with the Annabel¬†doll.¬† Though to be fair, despite the real doll (cos it is a real doll) being a little less innocuous looking then the one in the movie – It’s still a tad too freaky for my tastes.¬†


Movie version

Real one

The doll is the redheaded one

I of course would never entertain having anything weird in my house….

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† … oh hang on…¬† I just looked around my house.

Given the choice of anything in Casa Brew being demonically¬†possessed, other than myself of course, I’ve narrowed it down to these 4 possibilities:-

Marvin the Martian's dog biscuit barrel

Marvin the Martian’s dog biscuit barrel

African dude from my grandparents

African dude from my grandparents

Clown moneybox from my childhood

Clown moneybox from my childhood

Gollum doorstop - gift from a Bric a Brac in Farndale

Gollum doorstop Рtasteful gift from the Bric a Brac sale in Farndale

My money’s on the clown – everyone knows clowns are scary.

Big thanks to Baby Dave for the freebies – likely to be the last one so I’m glad I enjoyed the movie