For All My Auto Lovers

[BigPretzel]

We all know everyone likes to do 4/20 giveaways or contests and this year I am going threw my vault and only keeping the strains I know I’m gonna run within a few years. Being as how I am slowing my Autoflower runs down I have a great little contest for us. Instead of the usuals I want you guys to put a little more work into it.

Growing up my grandmother played a huge part of my life. She taught me about religion, books, writing, art, personal expression and how family always comes first no matter what. most of all unconditional and I mean unconditional love. I was a pos growing up and she always had my back and taught me to never give up on a loved one because you would t want that person to give up on you. My grandmother was born on 4/20/1939 and passed away 4 yrs ago just before my son was born. She didn’t get to meet him but I strive everyday to make her proud of me now. My grandmother used to have the best stories growing up threw post depression era and all her hippy stories. She used to tell me about smoking doobies (still makes me think of her everytime I here that word) at Ohio state and about the interesting life her and my grandpa had in Russia during the late 50s early 60s before coming back to the states and having kids.
She would read constantly and always be into a new book when I saw her, she passed that on to my mom who in turn passed it to me. I love to read, write and draw, anything to get me out of where I’m currently at(which atm is pretty ok with me). Stories have power, they can take you away from the physical world and bring you to a new one, they can change moods, perceptions and ideals. So I’d like to read your stories.

I want to hear the best stories you have. Whether you met someone incredible, did something no one would believe, saw something crazy or just had the worst luck ever. I’ve lived a very interesting life and have been told many times to start writing a book because of the wild shit I’ve lived through and seen in my short Few decades.

Make it interesting, remember I wasn’t there so exaggerate idgaf. It’s a story not a memoir or autobiography. I can’t check your references lol. So let’s get it!!!

The winner simply has to make me laugh the hardest or blow my mind with an outrageous story. They will win one pack of mephisto and one pack of night owl seeds. No runner ups just the best story gets the prize.


PRIZES:
Mephisto artisanal automatics:
Forum Stomper ( GSC (forum cut) x sour stomper F4)

Night Owl Genetics:
Galaxy Brain (zamadelica express x cosmic queen)

Might throw in some papers and slaps too. Who knows.

I will be reading all the stories up until April 21st and will pick the winner that night. Cut off is 11:59pm 4/20/22

 

[Brokehoe]

Great contest idea. I can't wait to read these.

 

[MacGydro]

Oh man, this should be fun- great contest idea! How many can we enter?? lol

I think I did my share of stupid shit and somehow made it through so far...

This one time, on 7 mile...a crackhead took offense to a conversation my buddy and I were having in a coney island.
He's pissed, and says so, and that "He'll be back"

So, we're waiting on our food, and this guy comes back with a garbage bag, concealing a fucking Daniel Boone style lever action rifle, talking shit.
We're drunk and feisty, so we call his bluff, and chase him out into the alley.

Now, I'm not sure if you're aware of the mystical powers of the Crackhead, but his ass disappeared in a puff of crack smoke, or something.
Looked down the alley, nope. Around the corner of the next building, nope. Back out onto 7 mile....How the hell??

He's somehow gotten back north across 7, and then back west across Greenfield, and down a block, crossing 7 mile again...in the span of like a minute.
My buddy pulls the car around, we catch up to him. He takes off down the middle of 7 mile, and I give chase, catching him a block or two later.

I proceed to bitch him out about pulling a gun without being serious about using it, and tell him it's a good way to get shot himself. (Something he might've avoided that night only because my buddy had just dropped his gun at home before we hit the coney)

Snatch the gun up, hop back in the car, and head back to pick up our grub. It was a shitty rifle that probably didn't work, so I left it for the coney guys. (We were cool with them, and used to go back in the kitchen and cook our own food)

Saw that same crackhead a few months later at the same coney. He had a fresh crease and staples from his belly button to his nipples.
I warned ya about fuckin around, out there, boi....



Oh, and you might be surprised what goes on in hotel conference rooms when they're not hosting business meetings

 

[BigPretzel]

Oh man, this should be fun- great contest idea! How many can we enter?? lol

I think I did my share of stupid shit and somehow made it through so far...

This one time, on 7 mile...a crackhead took offense to a conversation my buddy and I were having in a coney island.
He's pissed, and says so, and that "He'll be back"

So, we're waiting on our food, and this guy comes back with a garbage bag, concealing a fucking Daniel Boone style lever action rifle, talking shit.
We're drunk and feisty, so we call his bluff, and chase him out into the alley.

Now, I'm not sure if you're aware of the mystical powers of the Crackhead, but his ass disappeared in a puff of crack smoke, or something.
Looked down the alley, nope. Around the corner of the next building, nope. Back out onto 7 mile....How the hell??

He's somehow gotten back north across 7, and then back west across Greenfield, and down a block, crossing 7 mile again...in the span of like a minute.
My buddy pulls the car around, we catch up to him. He takes off down the middle of 7 mile, and I give chase, catching him a block or two later.

I proceed to bitch him out about pulling a gun without being serious about using it, and tell him it's a good way to get shot himself. (Something he might've avoided that night only because my buddy had just dropped his gun at home before we hit the coney)

Snatch the gun up, hop back in the car, and head back to pick up our grub. It was a shitty rifle that probably didn't work, so I left it for the coney guys. (We were cool with them, and used to go back in the kitchen and cook our own food)

Saw that same crackhead a few months later at the same coney. He had a fresh crease and staples from his belly button to his nipples.
I warned ya about fuckin around, out there, boi....



Oh, and you might be surprised what goes on in hotel conference rooms when they're not hosting business meetings

Karma catches another one.. good story. Gotta watch out for those crack head john Wayne’s though…


Why is it ppl on uppers always try to rob someone with the craziest shit? I was living in north Philly for a little while in my travels and I watched a guy get robbed with a 2x4.. not even kidding dude said “give everything you got” and held up this 2x4 that was like 15” long. The guy called his bluff and said something I don’t remember what and let’s just say that I heard a loud ass crack and kept it moving… and I bet the guy is pretty ashamed he got laid out by Tyrone and his 2x4.

great story again brother glad you made it out alive and with a good laugh!

 

[MacGydro]

The guy called his bluff and said something I don’t remember what and let’s just say that I heard

Oh man, I got about this far before I was reminded that I had another crackhead encounter, and a couple funny robbery stories. Glad my encounters didn't end like his though!
All my stories are years old, and beyond statute of limitations. Not like there's murder or anything...damn close though!
I'm not even doing this for the contest, but those beans look awesome, especially if the Zamaldelica comes through!
I just chuckle when I remember some of these stories, and hope you guys do too!

Crackheads Vol 2: Another Drunken Detroit Night
A couple buddies and I are leaving a dance establishment.
No tiaras, corsage, not a ball gown in sight.
We meet 3 swarthy fellows of the street, plying their powder of white...
Now I may have known a bit about the llello at the time, so I decided to entertain these gentlemen, and hear out their pitch.
A small chunk of white, wrapped in the torn corner of a sandwich bag, bounced off the parking block to my feet. Good job distancing yourself from the crime, buddy...
I don't remember the details, but the price was either ridiculously high or low for what he was offering. Most likely, straight Clabber Girl lol
So, I informed him, in a slightly snarky manner, I'm sure, that I was aware of the current state of the market, and that I wouldn't exactly trust his business integrity, as he could've been Tyrone Biggums' stunt double.
He didn't take too kindly to whatever I said, and I heard a slight click...
Looking down toward the source of that click, I saw a razor knife, and a less than cordial look on his face when my gaze returned. His buddies had equally grim mugs.
In another glorious moment of drunken stupidity, I gave him a little smirk, and said "Put that knife away before I take it from you, and cut your throat."
His buddies looked at him, my buddies looked at me, and I took my balls, and my wheelbarrow, and went home.

Who Needs A Gun When You've Got Bolt Cutters?
We used to go to the after hours street races...Races being used loosely, as most of the time, it was more like a car show / dance club.
Cars couldn't get through other cars or drunkards packed 4 lanes across, to race, if they wanted to.
It basically took up a main intersection, spread in all directions a block or two, and into the surrounding businesses parking lots.
One such packed night, there was a 53' truck with a large shipping company struggling to get through the intersection.
He was going nowhere fast through this mass of flesh and steel.
He could see his depot, just a block away. He'd already be there, and punching out for the night, if it weren't for all these rowdy ass people.
He didn't blame them- Hell, all he wanted was to be off work and let his hair down, but he's stuck, and he can't lawfully mow anyone down just for partying and blocking traffic, so he just sighs, and keeps a diligent toe on the brake.
And then it happened...Some enterprising fella produced a pair of bolt cutters from God knows where, and the rear doors flew open.
It was like ants on a caterpillar after that. Christmas night at the races!
Boxes flew from the trailer, left and right People scurried off with armloads of loot, value yet unknown, some packages larger than the person hauling it off.
Slowly, defenselessly, the caterpillar of a rig limped its way back home, losing its guts all the way.
Satisfied ants, with their plunder held high, made their way back to store their spoils.
The ants who hadn't eaten were greeted at the depot with 6-8 shots, and scattered back like roaches

Who Needs Bolt Cutters When You've Got Pussy?
A buddy and I are heading out to meet some of his other buddies at some club on the east side.
We get there, and his buddy is all pissed, and asking us if we're carrying, like we're just gonna start some shit with who-knows-who, for who-knows-why.
We're neither carrying, nor looking for trouble, but he's still pissed enough to go and confront this whoever, for whatever they did in the club.
Well, not really confront him, so much as catch him slipping, coming out of the club.
So, we're there, like 10ft from the door, posted up on his car bullshittin, while he's waiting for this dude he's pissed at to come out.
Meanwhile, he starts talking to this chick, thinking it might just turn into a good night after all, and stops watching for homeboy.
Homeboy was watching for him though, and caught his ass brains deep in pussy.
Homeboy ninja'd through Casanova's drunk lust, and peripheral vision, and snatched his 45 right outta my man's waistband, without so much as a word.
The words came when Homeboy started waving the gun like a wild man, and snatched Casanova's chain, at the barrel of his own gun, to add insult to injury.
That's when my buddy and I dropped around and below the hood of the car, to avoid any twitchy tough guy fingers turning our bullshit night into some kinda tragedy.
Casanova was sooo mad that whole night! Turns out he knew who robbed his ass, and still couldn't get his shit back
Casanova, If you're gonna go to war, you can't have your mind fogged by love

I can't wait to read some of the other wacky stories that come up. I'm sure there are far more interesting and entertaining folks than me here!

 

[Ramjet159]

It’s awhile ago now but my Dad and his mates took me on a fishing trip to the Coorong for the weekend. These trips were always fuelled with plenty of beer and all night fishing and eating seafood sessions .
Finally on the Sunday night when everyone was trashed , hungover and running on fumes we packed up the gear . Hooked the boat trailers up and headed home , about a 4 hour drive.
The old farts ( dad and his mates ) jumped into the duel cab and because there was no room left for me and being the youngest ( about 16 ) I got to sit in the tray in the back under the canopy .
Everybody went into the long drive home snooze mode as we chugged up the road , boat in tow .
A couple hours into it the pick up pulled over and the old farts jumped out and staggered off the road for a piss break . I wasn’t gonna jump out at first but then thought shit they might not pull over till we get home so I’d better take a piss while I can so I jumped out the back and started pissing on the boat trailers wheel arch .
Meanwhile I heard the others jump back in the cab and wait . Only trouble was I assumed they knew I’d jumped out the back but when I heard the engine rev up and the boat and trailer suddenly surge towards me I knew I was in trouble.
Being half asleep and taking a second or two to realise what was happening i was off my game and soon felt the weight of the trailer / boat tyre squashing over my foot and then just as I thought the worst was over the light bar going across the back of the boat then collected me in the side of the head knocking me arse up .
I didn’t know what to grab first my head or my foot as my Dad and his mates continued to drive up the road leaving me on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere in complete darkness.
Stunned I was both angry , sore and confused as to how the hell I was going to get home . I definitely wasn’t going to walk very far on one and a half feet .
My Dad finally arrived home to pull up out the front our place and out came Mum . After the standard greetings and story telling of the weekends events my Mum asked Dad where I was . He’s asleep in the back to which Mum sharply replied no he’s not so where Is he ? This is about the time all the blood drained from my Dads face and he realised nothing brings on the full hysterical wrath of a mother like a lost kid !!!
Luckily after about 20 minutes of me hobbling up the highway in pitch blackness a set of headlights popped over the horizon and a truck came rumbling up the road . I virtually stood in the middle of the road thinking mate your either going to stop or run me over because I’m not walking another foot . I’m done .
The Truckee must’ve taken one look at me and knew something wasn’t right .
After explaining I could see he was struggling not to laugh and his comment “ so you got ran over by a boat driven by your Dad on a highway “ pretty well summed up my night .
Eventually I made my way home to the relief of my Mum . I stormed into the house in a “ where’s Dad “ mindset as I wanted answers.
Turns out Dad jumped back in his car and drove back up the road looking for me and he spent half the night going around in circles .
We laugh about it today but at the time it was a long , how the fuck did this happen to me night .

 

[BigPretzel]

It’s awhile ago now but my Dad and his mates took me on a fishing trip to the Coorong for the weekend. These trips were always fuelled with plenty of beer and all night fishing and eating seafood sessions .
Finally on the Sunday night when everyone was trashed , hungover and running on fumes we packed up the gear . Hooked the boat trailers up and headed home , about a 4 hour drive.
The old farts ( dad and his mates ) jumped into the duel cab and because there was no room left for me and being the youngest ( about 16 ) I got to sit in the tray in the back under the canopy .
Everybody went into the long drive home snooze mode as we chugged up the road , boat in tow .
A couple hours into it the pick up pulled over and the old farts jumped out and staggered off the road for a piss break . I wasn’t gonna jump out at first but then thought shit they might not pull over till we get home so I’d better take a piss while I can so I jumped out the back and started pissing on the boat trailers wheel arch .
Meanwhile I heard the others jump back in the cab and wait . Only trouble was I assumed they knew I’d jumped out the back but when I heard the engine rev up and the boat and trailer suddenly surge towards me I knew I was in trouble.
Being half asleep and taking a second or two to realise what was happening i was off my game and soon felt the weight of the trailer / boat tyre squashing over my foot and then just as I thought the worst was over the light bar going across the back of the boat then collected me in the side of the head knocking me arse up .
I didn’t know what to grab first my head or my foot as my Dad and his mates continued to drive up the road leaving me on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere in complete darkness.
Stunned I was both angry , sore and confused as to how the hell I was going to get home . I definitely wasn’t going to walk very far on one and a half feet .
My Dad finally arrived home to pull up out the front our place and out came Mum . After the standard greetings and story telling of the weekends events my Mum asked Dad where I was . He’s asleep in the back to which Mum sharply replied no he’s not so where Is he ? This is about the time all the blood drained from my Dads face and he realised nothing brings on the full hysterical wrath of a mother like a lost kid !!!
Luckily after about 20 minutes of me hobbling up the highway in pitch blackness a set of headlights popped over the horizon and a truck came rumbling up the road . I virtually stood in the middle of the road thinking mate your either going to stop or run me over because I’m not walking another foot . I’m done .
The Truckee must’ve taken one look at me and knew something wasn’t right .
After explaining I could see he was struggling not to laugh and his comment “ so you got ran over by a boat driven by your Dad on a highway “ pretty well summed up my night .
Eventually I made my way home to the relief of my Mum . I stormed into the house in a “ where’s Dad “ mindset as I wanted answers.
Turns out Dad jumped back in his car and drove back up the road looking for me and he spent half the night going around in circles .
We laugh about it today but at the time it was a long , how the fuck did this happen to me night .

Glad you made it home safe. That could of been a lot worse then it was. I’d stollnof have the old man a hell of a mouth full.

 

[Hitch]

Ok why not. But I tell better stories verbally ?.

So a common topic of discussion amongst smokers is always “do you remember your first time smoking weed?” And it’s usually the same general story. But I can still remember mine like it was yesterday.

Unlike a lot of smokers, I didn’t start until I was like 20. I was dating this girl that I met through her mom. I’ll never forget when her mom found out we were dating seriously…”when I introduced you to my daughter, I thought you guys might go out and have some fun, but I never expected you to start dating her. She’s a terrible girlfriend.” Coming from her mom, you would think that would have been all I needed. But no. Anyway, all that to lead up to this:

I get to her house one day and her ex-boyfriend’s car is in the driveway. i’m immediately a little pissed, but I see the two of them outside arguing. I pull up the car and get out, and I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but it was clearly an animated discussion about something of his that she still had. He sees me, and basically says “I’m not here for any trouble I’m just trying to get my [insert whatever the fuck] back. Good luck with her, that chick is crazy” and off he went. Well for reasons I don’t even remember anymore, she and I started arguing as well, and five minutes later I’m like basically fuck it and I leave too.

So I stop at the corner store to pick up some smokes and sure enough her ex is there. Well me being me, I pull in right next to him. I wasn’t even mad at him but I could see the look of alarm in his eyes. So he starts talking to me about how crazy she is and one thing leads to another and he says “hey you smoke weed right?” Well, I didn’t, but of course I was like “yeah”. So he proceeds to give me this nice doobie and says something like…”no sense in letting her ruin your day, that’s some good shit right there, enjoy.”

Now this is a joint that’s been rolled in a rolling machine, and it’s probably a solid half a gram. And it was also probably something of quality, but how the fuck would I know this.

So I get home back to the 'ol mom's basement and I decide I’m gonna smoke this motherfucker. We had a set of outside basement stairs with a cover over the top to keep rain out. So I go in my little hidey hole, and I remember thinking to myself “self, you’ve never smoked before so you’ll probably want to go easy.” And I proceed to smoke about half of that J.

Nothin.

So I consider the possibility that maybe I’m one of these high tolerance people by nature (I am a big dude) and I proceed to smoke the other half of that.

10 minutes later and I am soaring above the clouds.

Now some folks will tell you that they didn’t necessarily enjoy it the first time they smoked…Not me. It was fucking great. I became a pothead that day really. But in that moment only one thing came to my mind…

Goddamn I’m fucking hungry.

So I race upstairs to mom‘s kitchen, cottonmouth like a motherfucker, and raid the refrigerator. Jack shit. It was a grocery day. But I am literally starving like an underfed refugee, so I’m gonna find something. I quickly glanced in the pantry and my eyes settle upon pure edible gold. A half a jar of Jif peanut butter. And I’m like “fuck yeah I’m gonna make a goddamn peanut butter sandwich.”

And so I do. Did I add jelly for lubrication? no. Did I go easy on the peanut butter perhaps? no. I slathered a fucking inch and a half of creamy Jif peanut butter on that piece of dry ass Wonder Bread. And to top it all off, I added another dry ass piece of Wonder Bread. Fucking perfect. I am about to grub and take care of these insatiable munchies. So I proceed to take the largest bite of sandwich a human has even undertaken to eat, chew it maybe twice, and go to swallow with my dry ass throat and….

I CHOKE

And I mean that fucking hunk of peanut butter sandwich wedged itself down my throat like Pooh in Rabbit's hole.

And I’m standing there wobbling, trying my damnedest to get it out. There’s absolutely no one else at the house. And finally this horrible thought comes to me:

“I’m going to be the first person to ever die from smoking marijuana.”

Now God was looking out for me that day, because somehow against all odds, and just as I was starting to see stars… I coughed… and wouldn’t you know it, that piece of peanut butter sandwich shot out of my mouth like a fuckin cannon, flew like 10 feet across the room and stuck itself to the wall…SPLAT… then slowly started to slide down.

As the sweet oxygen rushed into my lungs, I remember thinking about how stupid it was to eat a dry ass sammy with cottonmouth. At the time, I also felt grateful that no one was around to see it, although I’ve probably told the story 100 times since then. I always start the story with…

“well I actually almost died the first time I smoked weed”…

 

[UncleB]

Ok why not. But I tell better stories verbally ?.

So a common topic of discussion amongst smokers is always “do you remember your first time smoking weed?” And it’s usually the same general story. But I can still remember mine like it was yesterday.

Unlike a lot of smokers, I didn’t start until I was like 20. I was dating this girl that I met through her mom. I’ll never forget when her mom found out we were dating seriously…”when I introduced you to my daughter, I thought you guys might go out and have some fun, but I never expected you to start dating her. She’s a terrible girlfriend.” Coming from her mom, you would think that would have been all I needed. But no. Anyway, all that to lead up to this:

I get to her house one day and her ex-boyfriend’s car is in the driveway. i’m immediately a little pissed, but I see the two of them outside arguing. I pull up the car and get out, and I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but it was clearly an animated discussion about something of his that she still had. He sees me, and basically says “I’m not here for any trouble I’m just trying to get my [insert whatever the fuck] back. Good luck with her, that chick is crazy” and off he went. Well for reasons I don’t even remember anymore, she and I started arguing as well, and five minutes later I’m like basically fuck it and I leave too.

So I stop at the corner store to pick up some smokes and sure enough her ex is there. Well me being me, I pull in right next to him. I wasn’t even mad at him but I could see the look of alarm in his eyes. So he starts talking to me about how crazy she is and one thing leads to another and he says “hey you smoke weed right?” Well, I didn’t, but of course I was like “yeah”. So he proceeds to give me this nice doobie and says something like…”no sense in letting her ruin your day, that’s some good shit right there, enjoy.”

So how did things end w/ the crazy girlfriend? Was it over that day?

 

[Hitch]

So how did things end w/ the crazy girlfriend? Was it over that day?

No unfortunately I suffered through another year or more of that lol

Ironically, that is actually it’s own story.

 

[WillieP]

SUBBED!

 

[WillieP]

Well BP, I will see if I can get this thing rolling for you...

In 1984, as a man of 20 years, I joined the USMC. After completing boot camp at San Diego, CA. I was sent to my schools at a Naval Air Station just outside of Memphis, TN.
I had enlisted in an avionics field, so my schooling would be lengthy. (I was there 51 weeks total.) I should also mention that I had just dropped out of college in a Electrical Engineering Technology major, not that I'm some brainiac, but the military schooling I was receiving was sort of a review. This left a fair amount of my time open for drinking and chasing girls. Imagine that, a 20 year old jarhead pursuing those two things!

I was fortunate enough to have my car with me, and after a bit my friends and I had found the clubs in Memphis that we liked to frequent. These were dance clubs, (remember we are talking about the mid-80's), that had a lot of pretty girls with big hair, that would at least dance with a jarhead.

At the time, I was ignorant of the fact that a friend of mine from back home had joined the Navy a few months after I had joined the Marines, and it turns out that he ends up stationed at the same base as I was. Now this is the kind of friend that I sort of knew in passing, he was from another little hic town a few miles away from mine, and we had played high school sports against each other, drank at the same parties, chased the same group of girls. You get the idea.
You are away from home and a bit home sick, then out of the blue an old drinking buddy from back home shows up. It's game on!!

For those of you that are not familiar with Navy dress code regulations, a sailor is not allowed to wear any civilian clothes for the first 6 months of his enlistment. Uniform only!! Well, it turns out that my friend and I wore the same size in clothes, so I could throw an extra set of civilian clothes in a bag, and my friend would just change in the car on the way to the clubs, then change back before returning to base. (Because nobody wants to hit the dance clubs in there uniform, looking like a total NOOBIE)

This routine goes on for a few weeks until one night we meet a couple of local girls that are quite "friendly". The night progresses and the one girl and I are most certainly hitting it off, more so than my friend and the second girl. By the end of the night, I/we get ask back to their place. Now this is before GPS, and we have no idea where we are going, so it is decided that the girl I am with will ride with us so we can find their place, and the other girl would drive herself home. The three of us get to the house first, and the girl that rode with us and I retire to the bedroom for a bit more privacy, leaving my friend to fend for himself.
This girl makes it known that we are both severely over dressed for the activity that is about to happen, so we quickly remedy that problem. Now one thing leads to another, and soon we are doing what young, drunken, men and women do when they have just removed their clothing.
Now I am smack dab in the middle of doing my thing. All other thing in the world have fallen away, and my one sole focus is on the act that I am preforming.
Right about then I think I feel someone tap me on the back of my calf...can't be. Keep doing what you are doing!!!
There it is again...no mistaking it...that was someone tapping me on the leg.
I continue to do what I am doing, but I glance back and sure enough, my friend has snuck into the bedroom and is on his hands and knees next to the waterbed (remember it's the 80's), tapping me on the leg and grinning like a MotherF'r.
Never let it be said that I am a quitter, so I continue what I am doing until I have successfully completed my task. Upon doing so, I roll over and ask the sweet young thing that is laying with me if she would mind grabbing me a beer. She agrees and leaves the room to fetch a cold one. As soon as she leaves the room, my friend says "trade me places"! I will admit I am a little taken a back by this, but at that point, as I said, I had successfully completed my mission, so I thought what the hell. I hopped out of the bed, he stripped naked and hopped in the bed. She returns with a beer, hands it to him, he opens it, takes a drink and sets it on the night stand. He then proceeds to do what comes naturally, with gusto I might add. I reach over and get his/my beer off the nightstand and I am sitting on the floor, naked, in the corner, drinking a beer when there comes a knock on the door.
The other girl has returned home and it turns out that we are all in her room and she would like her contact case and solution.
So what does my friend do? He says "Come in"!! And as she does, she turns on the overhead light exposing her roommate in bed with one guy and another guy sitting in the corner naked drinking a beer. The girl retrieves what she needed and swiftly left, my friend chases her out the room (cause that was what he was really after), and this left me with the first girl giving me 'that look'!
At this point I had no other option than to own it, and so I just told her the truth. I will say she took it amazingly well. I recall her making the comment that she was surprised that I could get hard again so quickly.
And she did allow me to rejoin her back in the bed...

That concludes this addition of drunken jarhead theater.
Cheers,
WillieP

 

[doober]

“There Are More Things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are Dreamt of in Your Philosophy” (from Shakespeare's Hamlet)​

The stories so far are tough to beat, but here's a "strange but true" one. It is about a person I was very close to. We lived about 1000 miles away. He had been sick for a while and it was only a matter of time before he passed. Eventually he went into hospice and I went to visit him. He did not look well and was way out there on morphine. A little while later, I left the room and asked the Phisician's Assistant, at the front desk, how much more time my friend had. He said that it looked like a few weeks or more. I went back into the room for a while longer and then said goodnight to my friend and that I would see him tomorrow. I went outside to the parking lot, and then another family member who had been in the room with us came down to say that my friend had just passed on.... Stunned, I went back into the room and then waited for the ambulance to show up, and the I helped them take the body. My friend and I were so close that it dawned on me that maybe he had waited for me to visit before he left his body....Well, the funeral was a couple days later, and after it, I went back to my friend's house to be with his family. I was sitting on the couch in the living room just keeping them company and from where I sat, I had a clear view of the street out front, the front yard, and the walkway leading up to the front door. Just sitting there talking and then the doorbell "rang". It did not ring like it usually did though. It rang like there was a wire loose and it was trying to ring, kind of a static-filled ring....Now I thought that was strange because I did not see any car pull up in front of the house and I did not see any person walk up to the front door to ring the bell.....We opened the front door and no one was there....Then we all realized what was going on....

 

[MacGydro]

Nice story, Doober. I hope we get more stories of the unexplained in here too!

I feel like, the more we learn about the physics of energy and vibration, we’ll be able to explain all the ghosts and "woo-woo" stuff that’s still considered "magical" to us thus far.

I don’t have many in that category yet, unfortunately, but I’ll tell you the one that I scratch my head about most. It all took place in the time it took me to ride a bike along the short side of a city block. So, probably a minute or so.
I’ll be as descriptive as possible so it hopefully makes sense to anyone reading.

About 1am on a beautiful summer Saturday night, just a few years ago, I was leaving some friends’ house for the evening, after a night of drinks and smokes and Live PD.
I say that to admit I had been imbibing, but I wasn’t trashed, let alone hallucinating.
I had plenty of experience with weed and alcohol by then, and this was no heavy night, anyway.

So, I decided I’d bike on up to Main Street, and finish the night with some carry out.

I round the corner, now heading west, on the short side of a block.

Down at the next intersection west, I notice a large black mass on the northwest corner, just about to cross the street, north to south.

I looked farther north down that sidewalk, thinking someone was out for a late night dog walk. There were a few monstrous beasts I’d seen walking the neighborhood previously. At least 1 Newfoundland, and a pair of huge black wolf hybrids.

I saw nobody behind the shape, so glanced back, and the shape was halfway across the street, directly under the streetlight.

It was about this time that my mind started realizing multiple things at once.
First, this was no late night dog walk. It wasn’t even a stray, just wandering around alone. It wasn’t a dog at all.

The were only a few seconds, and quick glances between when the motion of the shape first caught my attention, checking for owners, and now focusing on it as it crossed the street.
Looking directly at it, for the seconds I was able, would only raise more questions, which I still haven’t been able to answer.

The shape was longer / wider than it was tall, and longer on top than bottom, pointy tops at each end. Think trapezoidal general shape, wider on top.
This general shape upon first glance,, from a block away, was what gave me the impression it was a dog in the first place.
Now that I was focusing on it, I noticed how abstract the shape actually was.
It looked to be about 8 feet long, as it covered a good distance of the street’s width.
The height appeared to be about 4 feet from the pavement to the top of its "back", but not connected to the ground at all. The blackness didn’t start until a few inches or a foot above.
It was black....blacker than the unlit street behind it, even when directly under the street light.
As I was realizing all this mentally, I never got a chance to focus on more than the general shape.
As soon as it got about 3/4 across the street, it just disappeared.

The next second or two was a mental game of ping pong. Trying to decide whether I’d actually just seen anything at all, and if so, WTF was it?
I finally decided it was just a trick of light and motion or something, and brushed it off as such.
Motion once again drew my attention to the intersection ahead. It was the shape. Just as black, just as tall.
Only, this time, it appeared taller than wide.
It looked as if while I was watching it from it’s side perspective, it disappeared for a second, changed direction, and now appeared crossing the intersection west to east, on the south side. I now had a 3/4 view of this thing’s front and left sides, separated by only 3 houses, and closing.
We were now heading toward each other. I was in the middle of the street, while it was on the south side.
This time, I focused on this sight as well as I could, for as long as I could.
I never picked up more details, if there were any to catch.
There were no glowing red eyes, dripping teeth, or sharp claws.
Nothing to visually sculpt this amorphous shadow into a flesh and blood cryptid, haunting nightmares to come.
Just a shadow, darker than the night surrounding it, gliding impossibly fast across the few yards separating us.

At our closest point, the shape stopped running, and turned slightly, to face me. My eyes on it the whole time, it’s perspective was now a straight on front view, appearing about 3-4ft high, and about 2ft wide.
For just a split second, we "locked eyes". I stared at it, it stared back at me.
Then, just as quick as before, it vanished...kinda like it finally realized it could be seen, and knew it shouldn’t be...

I spent the rest of that night, and the following days trying to figure out what exactly the hell I had seen.
I visited the scene again night and day, just rechecking details of shadows and light, and hoping for another glimpse!

That’s the hardest thing I’ve "seen" that I can’t explain.
No UFOs, Bigfoot, or Human spirits with my own eyes yet, but I keep my mind open.
I did have an audio experience in an abandoned asylum that I still can’t explain, but that’s about it.

Anyone else got any woo-woo to share??

 

[BigPretzel]

Well BP, I will see if I can get this thing rolling for you...

In 1984, as a man of 20 years, I joined the USMC. After completing boot camp at San Diego, CA. I was sent to my schools at a Naval Air Station just outside of Memphis, TN.
I had enlisted in an avionics field, so my schooling would be lengthy. (I was there 51 weeks total.) I should also mention that I had just dropped out of college in a Electrical Engineering Technology major, not that I'm some brainiac, but the military schooling I was receiving was sort of a review. This left a fair amount of my time open for drinking and chasing girls. Imagine that, a 20 year old jarhead pursuing those two things!

I was fortunate enough to have my car with me, and after a bit my friends and I had found the clubs in Memphis that we liked to frequent. These were dance clubs, (remember we are talking about the mid-80's), that had a lot of pretty girls with big hair, that would at least dance with a jarhead.

At the time, I was ignorant of the fact that a friend of mine from back home had joined the Navy a few months after I had joined the Marines, and it turns out that he ends up stationed at the same base as I was. Now this is the kind of friend that I sort of knew in passing, he was from another little hic town a few miles away from mine, and we had played high school sports against each other, drank at the same parties, chased the same group of girls. You get the idea.
You are away from home and a bit home sick, then out of the blue an old drinking buddy from back home shows up. It's game on!!

For those of you that are not familiar with Navy dress code regulations, a sailor is not allowed to wear any civilian clothes for the first 6 months of his enlistment. Uniform only!! Well, it turns out that my friend and I wore the same size in clothes, so I could throw an extra set of civilian clothes in a bag, and my friend would just change in the car on the way to the clubs, then change back before returning to base. (Because nobody wants to hit the dance clubs in there uniform, looking like a total NOOBIE)

This routine goes on for a few weeks until one night we meet a couple of local girls that are quite "friendly". The night progresses and the one girl and I are most certainly hitting it off, more so than my friend and the second girl. By the end of the night, I/we get ask back to their place. Now this is before GPS, and we have no idea where we are going, so it is decided that the girl I am with will ride with us so we can find their place, and the other girl would drive herself home. The three of us get to the house first, and the girl that rode with us and I retire to the bedroom for a bit more privacy, leaving my friend to fend for himself.
This girl makes it known that we are both severely over dressed for the activity that is about to happen, so we quickly remedy that problem. Now one thing leads to another, and soon we are doing what young, drunken, men and women do when they have just removed their clothing.
Now I am smack dab in the middle of doing my thing. All other thing in the world have fallen away, and my one sole focus is on the act that I am preforming.
Right about then I think I feel someone tap me on the back of my calf...can't be. Keep doing what you are doing!!!
There it is again...no mistaking it...that was someone tapping me on the leg.
I continue to do what I am doing, but I glance back and sure enough, my friend has snuck into the bedroom and is on his hands and knees next to the waterbed (remember it's the 80's), tapping me on the leg and grinning like a MotherF'r.
Never let it be said that I am a quitter, so I continue what I am doing until I have successfully completed my task. Upon doing so, I roll over and ask the sweet young thing that is laying with me if she would mind grabbing me a beer. She agrees and leaves the room to fetch a cold one. As soon as she leaves the room, my friend says "trade me places"! I will admit I am a little taken a back by this, but at that point, as I said, I had successfully completed my mission, so I thought what the hell. I hopped out of the bed, he stripped naked and hopped in the bed. She returns with a beer, hands it to him, he opens it, takes a drink and sets it on the night stand. He then proceeds to do what comes naturally, with gusto I might add. I reach over and get his/my beer off the nightstand and I am sitting on the floor, naked, in the corner, drinking a beer when there comes a knock on the door.
The other girl has returned home and it turns out that we are all in her room and she would like her contact case and solution.
So what does my friend do? He says "Come in"!! And as she does, she turns on the overhead light exposing her roommate in bed with one guy and another guy sitting in the corner naked drinking a beer. The girl retrieves what she needed and swiftly left, my friend chases her out the room (cause that was what he was really after), and this left me with the first girl giving me 'that look'!
At this point I had no other option than to own it, and so I just told her the truth. I will say she took it amazingly well. I recall her making the comment that she was surprised that I could get hard again so quickly.
And she did allow me to rejoin her back in the bed...

That concludes this addition of drunken jarhead theater.
Cheers,
WillieP

Ok this one had me grinning and laughing pretty hard. Especially when the girl was alright with everything. Lmao good story. “Hard one” to beat..

 

[BigPretzel]

Then we all realized what was going on....​

Gave me chills. I’m one that fully believes in ghosts.

 

[MostHigh]

Ok why not. But I tell better stories verbally ?.

So a common topic of discussion amongst smokers is always “do you remember your first time smoking weed?” And it’s usually the same general story. But I can still remember mine like it was yesterday.

Unlike a lot of smokers, I didn’t start until I was like 20. I was dating this girl that I met through her mom. I’ll never forget when her mom found out we were dating seriously…”when I introduced you to my daughter, I thought you guys might go out and have some fun, but I never expected you to start dating her. She’s a terrible girlfriend.” Coming from her mom, you would think that would have been all I needed. But no. Anyway, all that to lead up to this:

I get to her house one day and her ex-boyfriend’s car is in the driveway. i’m immediately a little pissed, but I see the two of them outside arguing. I pull up the car and get out, and I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but it was clearly an animated discussion about something of his that she still had. He sees me, and basically says “I’m not here for any trouble I’m just trying to get my [insert whatever the fuck] back. Good luck with her, that chick is crazy” and off he went. Well for reasons I don’t even remember anymore, she and I started arguing as well, and five minutes later I’m like basically fuck it and I leave too.

So I stop at the corner store to pick up some smokes and sure enough her ex is there. Well me being me, I pull in right next to him. I wasn’t even mad at him but I could see the look of alarm in his eyes. So he starts talking to me about how crazy she is and one thing leads to another and he says “hey you smoke weed right?” Well, I didn’t, but of course I was like “yeah”. So he proceeds to give me this nice doobie and says something like…”no sense in letting her ruin your day, that’s some good shit right there, enjoy.”

Now this is a joint that’s been rolled in a rolling machine, and it’s probably a solid half a gram. And it was also probably something of quality, but how the fuck would I know this.

So I get home back to the 'ol mom's basement and I decide I’m gonna smoke this motherfucker. We had a set of outside basement stairs with a cover over the top to keep rain out. So I go in my little hidey hole, and I remember thinking to myself “self, you’ve never smoked before so you’ll probably want to go easy.” And I proceed to smoke about half of that J.

Nothin.

So I consider the possibility that maybe I’m one of these high tolerance people by nature (I am a big dude) and I proceed to smoke the other half of that.

10 minutes later and I am soaring above the clouds.

Now some folks will tell you that they didn’t necessarily enjoy it the first time they smoked…Not me. It was fucking great. I became a pothead that day really. But in that moment only one thing came to my mind…

Goddamn I’m fucking hungry.

So I race upstairs to mom‘s kitchen, cottonmouth like a motherfucker, and raid the refrigerator. Jack shit. It was a grocery day. But I am literally starving like an underfed refugee, so I’m gonna find something. I quickly glanced in the pantry and my eyes settle upon pure edible gold. A half a jar of Jif peanut butter. And I’m like “fuck yeah I’m gonna make a goddamn peanut butter sandwich.”

And so I do. Did I add jelly for lubrication? no. Did I go easy on the peanut butter perhaps? no. I slathered a fucking inch and a half of creamy Jif peanut butter on that piece of dry ass Wonder Bread. And to top it all off, I added another dry ass piece of Wonder Bread. Fucking perfect. I am about to grub and take care of these insatiable munchies. So I proceed to take the largest bite of sandwich a human has even undertaken to eat, chew it maybe twice, and go to swallow with my dry ass throat and….

I CHOKE

And I mean that fucking hunk of peanut butter sandwich wedged itself down my throat like Pooh in Rabbit's hole.

And I’m standing there wobbling, trying my damnedest to get it out. There’s absolutely no one else at the house. And finally this horrible thought comes to me:

“I’m going to be the first person to ever die from smoking marijuana.”

Now God was looking out for me that day, because somehow against all odds, and just as I was starting to see stars… I coughed… and wouldn’t you know it, that piece of peanut butter sandwich shot out of my mouth like a fuckin cannon, flew like 10 feet across the room and stuck itself to the wall…SPLAT… then slowly started to slide down.

As the sweet oxygen rushed into my lungs, I remember thinking about how stupid it was to eat a dry ass sammy with cottonmouth. At the time, I also felt grateful that no one was around to see it, although I’ve probably told the story 100 times since then. I always start the story with…

“well I actually almost died the first time I smoked weed”…

Now that’s a good story and well told too. We’re all glad u made it bro

 

[doober]

Nice story, Doober. I hope we get more stories of the unexplained in here too!

I feel like, the more we learn about the physics of energy and vibration, we’ll be able to explain all the ghosts and "woo-woo" stuff that’s still considered "magical" to us thus far.

I don’t have many in that category yet, unfortunately, but I’ll tell you the one that I scratch my head about most. It all took place in the time it took me to ride a bike along the short side of a city block. So, probably a minute or so.
I’ll be as descriptive as possible so it hopefully makes sense to anyone reading.

About 1am on a beautiful summer Saturday night, just a few years ago, I was leaving some friends’ house for the evening, after a night of drinks and smokes and Live PD.
I say that to admit I had been imbibing, but I wasn’t trashed, let alone hallucinating.
I had plenty of experience with weed and alcohol by then, and this was no heavy night, anyway.

So, I decided I’d bike on up to Main Street, and finish the night with some carry out.

I round the corner, now heading west, on the short side of a block.

Down at the next intersection west, I notice a large black mass on the northwest corner, just about to cross the street, north to south.

I looked farther north down that sidewalk, thinking someone was out for a late night dog walk. There were a few monstrous beasts I’d seen walking the neighborhood previously. At least 1 Newfoundland, and a pair of huge black wolf hybrids.

I saw nobody behind the shape, so glanced back, and the shape was halfway across the street, directly under the streetlight.

It was about this time that my mind started realizing multiple things at once.
First, this was no late night dog walk. It wasn’t even a stray, just wandering around alone. It wasn’t a dog at all.

The were only a few seconds, and quick glances between when the motion of the shape first caught my attention, checking for owners, and now focusing on it as it crossed the street.
Looking directly at it, for the seconds I was able, would only raise more questions, which I still haven’t been able to answer.

The shape was longer / wider than it was tall, and longer on top than bottom, pointy tops at each end. Think trapezoidal general shape, wider on top.
This general shape upon first glance,, from a block away, was what gave me the impression it was a dog in the first place.
Now that I was focusing on it, I noticed how abstract the shape actually was.
It looked to be about 8 feet long, as it covered a good distance of the street’s width.
The height appeared to be about 4 feet from the pavement to the top of its "back", but not connected to the ground at all. The blackness didn’t start until a few inches or a foot above.
It was black....blacker than the unlit street behind it, even when directly under the street light.
As I was realizing all this mentally, I never got a chance to focus on more than the general shape.
As soon as it got about 3/4 across the street, it just disappeared.

The next second or two was a mental game of ping pong. Trying to decide whether I’d actually just seen anything at all, and if so, WTF was it?
I finally decided it was just a trick of light and motion or something, and brushed it off as such.
Motion once again drew my attention to the intersection ahead. It was the shape. Just as black, just as tall.
Only, this time, it appeared taller than wide.
It looked as if while I was watching it from it’s side perspective, it disappeared for a second, changed direction, and now appeared crossing the intersection west to east, on the south side. I now had a 3/4 view of this thing’s front and left sides, separated by only 3 houses, and closing.
We were now heading toward each other. I was in the middle of the street, while it was on the south side.
This time, I focused on this sight as well as I could, for as long as I could.
I never picked up more details, if there were any to catch.
There were no glowing red eyes, dripping teeth, or sharp claws.
Nothing to visually sculpt this amorphous shadow into a flesh and blood cryptid, haunting nightmares to come.
Just a shadow, darker than the night surrounding it, gliding impossibly fast across the few yards separating us.

At our closest point, the shape stopped running, and turned slightly, to face me. My eyes on it the whole time, it’s perspective was now a straight on front view, appearing about 3-4ft high, and about 2ft wide.
For just a split second, we "locked eyes". I stared at it, it stared back at me.
Then, just as quick as before, it vanished...kinda like it finally realized it could be seen, and knew it shouldn’t be...

I spent the rest of that night, and the following days trying to figure out what exactly the hell I had seen.
I visited the scene again night and day, just rechecking details of shadows and light, and hoping for another glimpse!

That’s the hardest thing I’ve "seen" that I can’t explain.
No UFOs, Bigfoot, or Human spirits with my own eyes yet, but I keep my mind open.
I did have an audio experience in an abandoned asylum that I still can’t explain, but that’s about it.

Anyone else got any woo-woo to share??

Wow - great story @MacGydro !

 

[BigPretzel]

Nice story, Doober. I hope we get more stories of the unexplained in here too!

I feel like, the more we learn about the physics of energy and vibration, we’ll be able to explain all the ghosts and "woo-woo" stuff that’s still considered "magical" to us thus far.

I don’t have many in that category yet, unfortunately, but I’ll tell you the one that I scratch my head about most. It all took place in the time it took me to ride a bike along the short side of a city block. So, probably a minute or so.
I’ll be as descriptive as possible so it hopefully makes sense to anyone reading.

About 1am on a beautiful summer Saturday night, just a few years ago, I was leaving some friends’ house for the evening, after a night of drinks and smokes and Live PD.
I say that to admit I had been imbibing, but I wasn’t trashed, let alone hallucinating.
I had plenty of experience with weed and alcohol by then, and this was no heavy night, anyway.

So, I decided I’d bike on up to Main Street, and finish the night with some carry out.

I round the corner, now heading west, on the short side of a block.

Down at the next intersection west, I notice a large black mass on the northwest corner, just about to cross the street, north to south.

I looked farther north down that sidewalk, thinking someone was out for a late night dog walk. There were a few monstrous beasts I’d seen walking the neighborhood previously. At least 1 Newfoundland, and a pair of huge black wolf hybrids.

I saw nobody behind the shape, so glanced back, and the shape was halfway across the street, directly under the streetlight.

It was about this time that my mind started realizing multiple things at once.
First, this was no late night dog walk. It wasn’t even a stray, just wandering around alone. It wasn’t a dog at all.

The were only a few seconds, and quick glances between when the motion of the shape first caught my attention, checking for owners, and now focusing on it as it crossed the street.
Looking directly at it, for the seconds I was able, would only raise more questions, which I still haven’t been able to answer.

The shape was longer / wider than it was tall, and longer on top than bottom, pointy tops at each end. Think trapezoidal general shape, wider on top.
This general shape upon first glance,, from a block away, was what gave me the impression it was a dog in the first place.
Now that I was focusing on it, I noticed how abstract the shape actually was.
It looked to be about 8 feet long, as it covered a good distance of the street’s width.
The height appeared to be about 4 feet from the pavement to the top of its "back", but not connected to the ground at all. The blackness didn’t start until a few inches or a foot above.
It was black....blacker than the unlit street behind it, even when directly under the street light.
As I was realizing all this mentally, I never got a chance to focus on more than the general shape.
As soon as it got about 3/4 across the street, it just disappeared.

The next second or two was a mental game of ping pong. Trying to decide whether I’d actually just seen anything at all, and if so, WTF was it?
I finally decided it was just a trick of light and motion or something, and brushed it off as such.
Motion once again drew my attention to the intersection ahead. It was the shape. Just as black, just as tall.
Only, this time, it appeared taller than wide.
It looked as if while I was watching it from it’s side perspective, it disappeared for a second, changed direction, and now appeared crossing the intersection west to east, on the south side. I now had a 3/4 view of this thing’s front and left sides, separated by only 3 houses, and closing.
We were now heading toward each other. I was in the middle of the street, while it was on the south side.
This time, I focused on this sight as well as I could, for as long as I could.
I never picked up more details, if there were any to catch.
There were no glowing red eyes, dripping teeth, or sharp claws.
Nothing to visually sculpt this amorphous shadow into a flesh and blood cryptid, haunting nightmares to come.
Just a shadow, darker than the night surrounding it, gliding impossibly fast across the few yards separating us.

At our closest point, the shape stopped running, and turned slightly, to face me. My eyes on it the whole time, it’s perspective was now a straight on front view, appearing about 3-4ft high, and about 2ft wide.
For just a split second, we "locked eyes". I stared at it, it stared back at me.
Then, just as quick as before, it vanished...kinda like it finally realized it could be seen, and knew it shouldn’t be...

I spent the rest of that night, and the following days trying to figure out what exactly the hell I had seen.
I visited the scene again night and day, just rechecking details of shadows and light, and hoping for another glimpse!

That’s the hardest thing I’ve "seen" that I can’t explain.
No UFOs, Bigfoot, or Human spirits with my own eyes yet, but I keep my mind open.
I did have an audio experience in an abandoned asylum that I still can’t explain, but that’s about it.

Anyone else got any woo-woo to share??

Excellent man. Well written, somebody paid attention in English class and you had me on the edge of my seat for a minute to. I’d of went back to check but had someone with me. I’m one who believes fully in magic, astral planes, spirits, and unexplained Phenomenon but it scares the living shit out of me. I’ve had some crazy experiences with dreams/premonitions and some super scary deja vou so I def would of probably rode as fast as possible the other way or froze and just watched from a distance hoping it had T-Rex vision. Way to be a true investigator.

 

[MacGydro]

Excellent man. Well written, somebody paid attention in English class and you had me on the edge of my seat for a minute to. I’d of went back to check but had someone with me. I’m one who believes fully in magic, astral planes, spirits, and unexplained Phenomenon but it scares the living shit out of me. I’ve had some crazy experiences with dreams/premonitions and some super scary deja vou so I def would of probably rode as fast as possible the other way or froze and just watched from a distance hoping it had T-Rex vision. Way to be a true investigator.

Ha, thanks man. Glad you enjoyed it!
No English scholar here, or any other subject, for that matter. I didn't pay attention to shit in school, it feels like.
I didn't even think of the possibility of being ADD til after school, when my buddy kept calling me ADD boy for flipping channels every time a commercial would come on lol
If I could, I'd totally Billy Madison it, and go again, actually paying attention this time.

I love the as-of-yet-unexplained stuff of all kinds.

I didn't even hear of him until he had already retired, but I have about 20 years of Art Bell's programs on file that I've listened to.
Fascinating stuff across the board, for sure. Art was a class act of an interviewer too. He treated each guest with respect, no matter how far out the subject was. Half the time, you couldn't tell whether he himself believed the subject or not, but they were always entertaining as hell.

I always hoped he'd come back from retirement yet again, and was super bummed when I heard he died a couple years ago.
I remember when it was announced on a radio station I had on.

He had passed quietly in his sleep, from what would later be learned was an accidental pain med OD.

And when did he make his final departure from this physical plane?
The wee hours of Friday, April 13th, 2018...and if I were a betting man, I'd bet right around 3am heheh

As for investigating the scene, it was never scary for me.
Definitely not as much as the asylum thing, even though I had actually seen something moving...and the thing had seen me, or so it seemed.
The Shape encounter wasn't scary, I believe, for a couple of reasons.
1. It was out in the middle of the street, in public, right around the corner from where I grew up, and knew my whole life.
2. It wasn't something I was looking for, or expecting, while "looking for ghosts" or something, where you psych yourself up.
It was more of a shock of confusion to my system, that had me questioning more than fearing anything.

The asylum was no visuals, just hearing crazy sounds of movements around us that we couldn't assign a logical source to.
That was more freaky because it was a boarded up nut house, with signs of possible past residents living there again.
The unstable human prospect was scarier to us than ghosts...until we turned our lights on, and whatever was making the noise we were hearing 15ft away was just gone.
That sent our hair on end, and our asses out the window.