What happened to the swine flu? This flu has the same work ethic as some of the change beggars on the street corners. I feel like I'm beneath a frozen wave and everyone keeps telling me I better get out of the way or else be swept away. I just carry on with my day and look up at the wave, saying, "Well, are you just gonna stand there and look stupid or are you going to unleash your fury? You know, the Black Plague makes you look like a pussy."
I can't believe the CDC labeled this thing a pandemic. Don't you have to cause bodily harm and take lives to be considered a pandemic? Alcohol induced stunts claim more people in a week than this thing has in months. Can't we somehow beef up this strain of swine flu and get it moving like a California forest fire?
Why am I rooting for the swine flu, you ask? I've always been a big believer that the world would be a lot better place with less people and I've been eyeing up some homes I'd like to own, and probably can't have unless the occupants succumb to swine flu.
Some will say, but you may become a victim of this pandemic, and I'm willing to take this chance. If 80% of the world is wiped out then there is a pretty good chance I will no longer be here, but there is also a 20% chance I'm going to get some pretty cool stuff when the flu subsides and goes back into hiding. I just hope it doesn't claim all the good people and I get stuck with the world's assholes, as if the very fact they were an asshole saved them from the flu. Imagine surviving the world's worst plague and then finding out you are living in a world filled with assholes, the very people I wanted gone in the first place.
I've thought this out and I need the following people to survive the plague: someone who is good with refrigeration and air conditioning, electrician, doctor, a pilot to fly me to exotic locations, and preferably a good sushi chef.
A message to the swine flu - Get your ass moving already. Come on!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Throwback Lemieux Jersey
I received a text on Saturday from Fish: Call me! I have a good story.
Being one for a good story I decided to give Fish a call.
"What's up? I just got your text."
"XL stopped over my house the other day..."
"Hold on. Let me sit down for this because I love a good XL story."
"Ok, so XL stops over my place with a brand new throwback Lemieux jersey and a baby blue Sidney Crosby Jersey," he said.
Our friend, XL, loves sports memorabilia and he decorates his entire house with tiny sports dolls. He has been seen on numerous occasions barreling over small children at Toys R' Us to get the best sports figures before the children even know what hit them. He has also been spotted leaving the handicap stalls and rendering them unusable for a week or two.
Fish continued: "So he tells me he wants me to have Kelly get signatures on the jerseys so he can frame them and hang them in his house."
Kelly, the Fish man's wife, knows Mrs. Lemieux and is able to get signatures from time to time, but she won't go out of her way just to bother her for a signature. She'll only get them if there is already some sort of signing going on.
Fish continued: "XL tells me to get him some signatures but I tell him to ask Kelly himself because I don't really feel like doing it. XL tells me there is no rush on getting the signatures so I don't even bother with it for some time. So a week or two goes by and he calls to see if I got the jerseys signed and I tell him I thought there was no rush. He says, 'Well I'd like to get those things on the wall being the Pens are about to win the cup.' I tell him to relax and that I'll get the things signed."
"So, did you get them signed," I asked.
"Not exactly. I was watching game 7 on Friday night and I said to myself, 'If they win the cup, I'm going out to the bars.' The Pens end up winning the cup and I decided to head out to the bars, but I needed to sport some Penguins gear and I didn't have any."
"No! Don't tell me you wore one of the brand new shirts?"
Laughing, he said, "I threw on his throwback Lemieux jersey and rolled down to the Falcons."
Now, even though Pittsburgh passed a no-smoking law, some of the private clubs still allow smoking, and these places reek of cigarette smoke and booze. There is no way to step into one of these clubs and exit without smelling like a cigarette. You would need to have most clothes dry cleaned several times after exiting these establishments. Some people even throw away their shirts instead of having them cleaned because the smell becomes so ingrained into clothing.
"You didn't! That shirt is ruined," I said.
"I didn't spill anything on it," he defended.
"But it probably smells like a cigarette. They were brand new and I'm sure he never intended for them to be worn before hanging them in his house."
"That's what you get when you ask me to get signatures," Fish said.
"He's gonna be pissed," I said.
"He doesn't know," he said.
"I'm going to throw it on the blog," I said.
"I don't care," he said.
And what have we learned from this story? Never ask the Fish Man to get you sports signatures without consequences.
The jerseys have yet to be signed, but they have received Fish's own signature.
Being one for a good story I decided to give Fish a call.
"What's up? I just got your text."
"XL stopped over my house the other day..."
"Hold on. Let me sit down for this because I love a good XL story."
"Ok, so XL stops over my place with a brand new throwback Lemieux jersey and a baby blue Sidney Crosby Jersey," he said.
Our friend, XL, loves sports memorabilia and he decorates his entire house with tiny sports dolls. He has been seen on numerous occasions barreling over small children at Toys R' Us to get the best sports figures before the children even know what hit them. He has also been spotted leaving the handicap stalls and rendering them unusable for a week or two.
Fish continued: "So he tells me he wants me to have Kelly get signatures on the jerseys so he can frame them and hang them in his house."
Kelly, the Fish man's wife, knows Mrs. Lemieux and is able to get signatures from time to time, but she won't go out of her way just to bother her for a signature. She'll only get them if there is already some sort of signing going on.
Fish continued: "XL tells me to get him some signatures but I tell him to ask Kelly himself because I don't really feel like doing it. XL tells me there is no rush on getting the signatures so I don't even bother with it for some time. So a week or two goes by and he calls to see if I got the jerseys signed and I tell him I thought there was no rush. He says, 'Well I'd like to get those things on the wall being the Pens are about to win the cup.' I tell him to relax and that I'll get the things signed."
"So, did you get them signed," I asked.
"Not exactly. I was watching game 7 on Friday night and I said to myself, 'If they win the cup, I'm going out to the bars.' The Pens end up winning the cup and I decided to head out to the bars, but I needed to sport some Penguins gear and I didn't have any."
"No! Don't tell me you wore one of the brand new shirts?"
Laughing, he said, "I threw on his throwback Lemieux jersey and rolled down to the Falcons."
Now, even though Pittsburgh passed a no-smoking law, some of the private clubs still allow smoking, and these places reek of cigarette smoke and booze. There is no way to step into one of these clubs and exit without smelling like a cigarette. You would need to have most clothes dry cleaned several times after exiting these establishments. Some people even throw away their shirts instead of having them cleaned because the smell becomes so ingrained into clothing.
"You didn't! That shirt is ruined," I said.
"I didn't spill anything on it," he defended.
"But it probably smells like a cigarette. They were brand new and I'm sure he never intended for them to be worn before hanging them in his house."
"That's what you get when you ask me to get signatures," Fish said.
"He's gonna be pissed," I said.
"He doesn't know," he said.
"I'm going to throw it on the blog," I said.
"I don't care," he said.
And what have we learned from this story? Never ask the Fish Man to get you sports signatures without consequences.
The jerseys have yet to be signed, but they have received Fish's own signature.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Hope for slackers everywhere
I attended a wedding this past weekend. The only thing worse than going to a wedding where you don't know anyone is going to a wedding where the person invited doesn't know anyone either. I guess it could have been worse, it could have been a cash bar or dry wedding, which it was not, so my girlfriend would get a free pass for this reason, and this reason only.
"I hope you realize I'm going to get shit-faced at this wedding," I explained to my girlfriend.
"Just don't embarrass me," she said.
"You don't know anybody so how could you be embarrassed?"
"Just behave."
The only reason we were attending the wedding is because the mother of the bride had worked at the same company as my girlfriend. They no longer worked together but apparently my girlfriend has to be so like able that she still gets invited. Yippee!
We had trouble with parking and I started bitching about my discontent for weddings held in the city and asking what reasonable person gets married where there are no bushes to water when the restrooms grow crowded. Who gets married where there is limited parking at there is a long drive home? This is obviously someone who is not thinking of the drinking man?
We parked in a downtown parking garage and glanced at the sign which read $20 dollars for 4 or more hours.
"We're out of here in 3 hours," I stated. "Take some money out of that envelope if we're paying 20 dollars for parking," I continued.
"I'll pay for the parking," she said.
I think I continued to bitch for the entire walk into the wedding and calmed myself just a bit when I spotted the bar. We walked over and grabbed a beer and wine. I must tell you that I don't think a cold Budweiser ever tasted so good. My mouth was parched after all my bitching about attending the wedding and the Bud was the perfect cure.
We took our seats and shortly after the bride's mother appeared. She and the few people seated at our table were the only people my girlfriend knew. I didn't know anybody. My girlfriend introduced me to the bride's mother and I said, "I see you know my girlfriend well. You put us next to the bar."
The mother smirked and nodded and I'm pretty sure she thought I was an idiot. Oh well, I probably wouldn't see her again anytime soon. We were drinking, sitting at the table and bullshitting when my girlfriend told me about the bride's parents being unhappy with their daughter's boyfriend. Talking about how he graduated and aspired to be nothing. He worked at some video game store and made about 7 bucks an hour. The parents even had a sit down with the guy and told him he better light a fire under his ass if he wanted to court their daughter. I enjoyed the story and thought, I look like a scholar compared to this clown, and downed my beer, wearing a huge grin the entire time, staring at the boyfriend from across the table.
They introduced the wedding party and the first thing I noticed was how attractive the bride was. The groom definitely had something up his sleeve, or in his pants, in order to land a woman of this caliber. He overextended his credit with this purchase and I immediately thought, this guy has to be loaded. I quickly turned my attention away from the wedding party and looked at the dessert table.
The rest of the night went by very quick. It was almost as if they were rushing us through every event of the evening: cake cutting, dinner, dance, and greetings. I didn't have a problem with this because the quicker the better. I almost wanted to hug them and say, "Hey, thanks for working your wedding around the Penguins playoff game. That shows some real class."
I looked over at my girlfriend when the rat left the table. The rat is anybody directly related to the wedding party seated at your table. The one person who may rat you out if you try and leave early. In our case, we had the bride's sister's boyfriend seated at our table. He walked away from the table and I said, "I'll meet you at the car. We might not get another chance. I'm outta here!"
My girlfriend walked out after me and she was laughing. We had made it. We were free of the wedding and going home to watch the hockey game.
"So that bride seemed out of the groom's league, huh?" I said. "He must have some serious cash," I continued.
"What are you talking about? That's the guy who works at the video store," she said.
My jaw hinged open and I almost swallowed a fly. "Are you shitting me! I thought you were talking about the bride's sister's boyfriend who was sitting with us at the table."
"No, no, no," she said. "I'm talking about the groom. That's why her parents had a sit down with him."
"Jesus! I have a whole new respect for that guy. He brings hope to slackers everywhere. If you can work at a video store and land a chick like that...wow!"
My girlfriend laughed and I thought, maybe it is the era of the slacker.
"I hope you realize I'm going to get shit-faced at this wedding," I explained to my girlfriend.
"Just don't embarrass me," she said.
"You don't know anybody so how could you be embarrassed?"
"Just behave."
The only reason we were attending the wedding is because the mother of the bride had worked at the same company as my girlfriend. They no longer worked together but apparently my girlfriend has to be so like able that she still gets invited. Yippee!
We had trouble with parking and I started bitching about my discontent for weddings held in the city and asking what reasonable person gets married where there are no bushes to water when the restrooms grow crowded. Who gets married where there is limited parking at there is a long drive home? This is obviously someone who is not thinking of the drinking man?
We parked in a downtown parking garage and glanced at the sign which read $20 dollars for 4 or more hours.
"We're out of here in 3 hours," I stated. "Take some money out of that envelope if we're paying 20 dollars for parking," I continued.
"I'll pay for the parking," she said.
I think I continued to bitch for the entire walk into the wedding and calmed myself just a bit when I spotted the bar. We walked over and grabbed a beer and wine. I must tell you that I don't think a cold Budweiser ever tasted so good. My mouth was parched after all my bitching about attending the wedding and the Bud was the perfect cure.
We took our seats and shortly after the bride's mother appeared. She and the few people seated at our table were the only people my girlfriend knew. I didn't know anybody. My girlfriend introduced me to the bride's mother and I said, "I see you know my girlfriend well. You put us next to the bar."
The mother smirked and nodded and I'm pretty sure she thought I was an idiot. Oh well, I probably wouldn't see her again anytime soon. We were drinking, sitting at the table and bullshitting when my girlfriend told me about the bride's parents being unhappy with their daughter's boyfriend. Talking about how he graduated and aspired to be nothing. He worked at some video game store and made about 7 bucks an hour. The parents even had a sit down with the guy and told him he better light a fire under his ass if he wanted to court their daughter. I enjoyed the story and thought, I look like a scholar compared to this clown, and downed my beer, wearing a huge grin the entire time, staring at the boyfriend from across the table.
They introduced the wedding party and the first thing I noticed was how attractive the bride was. The groom definitely had something up his sleeve, or in his pants, in order to land a woman of this caliber. He overextended his credit with this purchase and I immediately thought, this guy has to be loaded. I quickly turned my attention away from the wedding party and looked at the dessert table.
The rest of the night went by very quick. It was almost as if they were rushing us through every event of the evening: cake cutting, dinner, dance, and greetings. I didn't have a problem with this because the quicker the better. I almost wanted to hug them and say, "Hey, thanks for working your wedding around the Penguins playoff game. That shows some real class."
I looked over at my girlfriend when the rat left the table. The rat is anybody directly related to the wedding party seated at your table. The one person who may rat you out if you try and leave early. In our case, we had the bride's sister's boyfriend seated at our table. He walked away from the table and I said, "I'll meet you at the car. We might not get another chance. I'm outta here!"
My girlfriend walked out after me and she was laughing. We had made it. We were free of the wedding and going home to watch the hockey game.
"So that bride seemed out of the groom's league, huh?" I said. "He must have some serious cash," I continued.
"What are you talking about? That's the guy who works at the video store," she said.
My jaw hinged open and I almost swallowed a fly. "Are you shitting me! I thought you were talking about the bride's sister's boyfriend who was sitting with us at the table."
"No, no, no," she said. "I'm talking about the groom. That's why her parents had a sit down with him."
"Jesus! I have a whole new respect for that guy. He brings hope to slackers everywhere. If you can work at a video store and land a chick like that...wow!"
My girlfriend laughed and I thought, maybe it is the era of the slacker.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Moundsville Prison and "The Hole"
Continued from Visiting Moundsville Prison
The tour ended with the entire group standing around "Old Sparky," the famous electric chair where numerous prisoners said their final prayers. The room also held makeshift shanks and other tools fashioned into killing devices. Personally, I'd rather die from electrocution than a shank in the side. My luck the shank would get stuck halfway in and I'd be left with a permanent disfigurement; even in death there's vanity.
The tour operator informed us pizza would be available shortly and we could either wait to eat, or start out on our own, and eat later. The entire group waited but the three of us headed out. You can eat pizza any time but a date with a ghost only happens every so often.
We walked out the electric operated gate into the dark hallway and nothing could be heard but the sound of the door clicking closed behind us. This was it, we were on our own. We huddled close and began to walk.
"It's a little cold in here," I said.
"Come here, let me hold you," Trainwreck responded with open arms.
"Get the hell away from me! I'm sure the gay ghosts just took note of you," I said and we all giggled as we made our way down the hallway.
"Where should we go first," asked Ples.
"Let's fuck with Red. I have a can of chew in my book bag and we can taunt him with it," I said.
We all agreed and made our way towards the cell block where Red had been stabbed to death. We arrived in the hallway and Trainwreck said, "Sit there and act like you're sitting on the toilet and I'll snap a picture."
"Ok." I agreed and we took a very interesting picture of the cell. We began to call to Red.
"It's no wonder they stabbed you to death, you big puss! Come out if you're so big and bad! We'll give you something to cry about!"
Trainwreck began to wander off and make his way through the hallways by himself. Ples looked at me and said, "Isn't it funny how comfortable Trainwreck seems to be in prison, as if he's done this before?"
I laughed, observing how Trainwreck did seem to be comfortable with his surroundings.
This continued the entire night. We visited each haunted location, stepped over the paranormal investigation teams. Let me correct this, they weren't so much teams as they were a few ladies with homemade patches sewn on their sleeves. We actually observed them with a crystal ball and doing some weird seance and we looked at them strangely as we made our way through the old psyche ward. We thought about giving up on the entire ghost hunt and turning our efforts towards something a little more fun, like messing with the other ghost hunters.
The only scary thing to happen is when Trainwreck wandered off in the Sugar Shack and I hid behind a wall and jumped out at him. He screamed like a woman, we laughed and aimlessly searched the hallways. Eventually we walked the hallways with no flashlights to make the experience scarier, but it never really got scary. We never did get back to "The Hole" where RD had been killed, because the bats prevented us from doing so. They buzz your head throughout the entire prison and it's about the scariest thing about the place.
We were sitting in a hallway, drinking our 2nd 8hr energy drink in two hours, when something clanged off the floor. Pleas jumped and I didn't move because I already knew who was responsible for it and it wasn't any ghost, unless you consider Trainwreck's pale legs a ghost.
"This really sucks," I said.
Trainwreck and Ples both agreed when a bunch of girls started screaming off in the distance. They were screaming and running through the hallways with small bulbs of light from their flashlights dancing on the walls off in the distance.
"Fat girls are so annoying," Trainwreck said.
"How do you know they are fat," said Ples.
"Because only fat girls make that kind of noise," Trainwreck said.
"Then why do you always steal their underwear," I asked Trainwreck.
"Because it's funny," he said and laughed.
"What do you think they're screaming about?" Ples asked.
"Somebody must have told them all the pizza is gone," Trainwreck said, "and it scared the shit out of them."
We ended up staying around 4 hours out of the 10 hours allotted.
Ghosts seen - 0
Times anyone was scared - Trainwreck once
We left the prison and all agreed that our days of ghost hunting were over. The trip completely ruined all the reality shows and and spoiled all other plans to visit different scary locations. We went into the prison a little nervous but we all agreed we'd have slept by ourselves in one of the cells if need be, because there were no ghosts in the place. We did get a few t-shirts out of the deal but as for ghosts, none!
The tour ended with the entire group standing around "Old Sparky," the famous electric chair where numerous prisoners said their final prayers. The room also held makeshift shanks and other tools fashioned into killing devices. Personally, I'd rather die from electrocution than a shank in the side. My luck the shank would get stuck halfway in and I'd be left with a permanent disfigurement; even in death there's vanity.
The tour operator informed us pizza would be available shortly and we could either wait to eat, or start out on our own, and eat later. The entire group waited but the three of us headed out. You can eat pizza any time but a date with a ghost only happens every so often.
We walked out the electric operated gate into the dark hallway and nothing could be heard but the sound of the door clicking closed behind us. This was it, we were on our own. We huddled close and began to walk.
"It's a little cold in here," I said.
"Come here, let me hold you," Trainwreck responded with open arms.
"Get the hell away from me! I'm sure the gay ghosts just took note of you," I said and we all giggled as we made our way down the hallway.
"Where should we go first," asked Ples.
"Let's fuck with Red. I have a can of chew in my book bag and we can taunt him with it," I said.
We all agreed and made our way towards the cell block where Red had been stabbed to death. We arrived in the hallway and Trainwreck said, "Sit there and act like you're sitting on the toilet and I'll snap a picture."
"Ok." I agreed and we took a very interesting picture of the cell. We began to call to Red.
"It's no wonder they stabbed you to death, you big puss! Come out if you're so big and bad! We'll give you something to cry about!"
Trainwreck began to wander off and make his way through the hallways by himself. Ples looked at me and said, "Isn't it funny how comfortable Trainwreck seems to be in prison, as if he's done this before?"
I laughed, observing how Trainwreck did seem to be comfortable with his surroundings.
This continued the entire night. We visited each haunted location, stepped over the paranormal investigation teams. Let me correct this, they weren't so much teams as they were a few ladies with homemade patches sewn on their sleeves. We actually observed them with a crystal ball and doing some weird seance and we looked at them strangely as we made our way through the old psyche ward. We thought about giving up on the entire ghost hunt and turning our efforts towards something a little more fun, like messing with the other ghost hunters.
The only scary thing to happen is when Trainwreck wandered off in the Sugar Shack and I hid behind a wall and jumped out at him. He screamed like a woman, we laughed and aimlessly searched the hallways. Eventually we walked the hallways with no flashlights to make the experience scarier, but it never really got scary. We never did get back to "The Hole" where RD had been killed, because the bats prevented us from doing so. They buzz your head throughout the entire prison and it's about the scariest thing about the place.
We were sitting in a hallway, drinking our 2nd 8hr energy drink in two hours, when something clanged off the floor. Pleas jumped and I didn't move because I already knew who was responsible for it and it wasn't any ghost, unless you consider Trainwreck's pale legs a ghost.
"This really sucks," I said.
Trainwreck and Ples both agreed when a bunch of girls started screaming off in the distance. They were screaming and running through the hallways with small bulbs of light from their flashlights dancing on the walls off in the distance.
"Fat girls are so annoying," Trainwreck said.
"How do you know they are fat," said Ples.
"Because only fat girls make that kind of noise," Trainwreck said.
"Then why do you always steal their underwear," I asked Trainwreck.
"Because it's funny," he said and laughed.
"What do you think they're screaming about?" Ples asked.
"Somebody must have told them all the pizza is gone," Trainwreck said, "and it scared the shit out of them."
We ended up staying around 4 hours out of the 10 hours allotted.
Ghosts seen - 0
Times anyone was scared - Trainwreck once
We left the prison and all agreed that our days of ghost hunting were over. The trip completely ruined all the reality shows and and spoiled all other plans to visit different scary locations. We went into the prison a little nervous but we all agreed we'd have slept by ourselves in one of the cells if need be, because there were no ghosts in the place. We did get a few t-shirts out of the deal but as for ghosts, none!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Visiting Moundsville Prison and "Red" Snyder
I've seen it on tv, heard about it for years, and occasionally hear stories about it, but I needed to find out for myself. I didn't want to listen to the opinion of someone else or watch any more shows on the topic. It was about time I went and drew my on conclusion on the matter of Moundsville Prison. Built in 1866, the prison was built by convicts and held thousands of prisoners during its 129 years in business. It eventually closed in 1995 when the prison was deemed sub par in terms of living conditions. Since its closing there have been claims that it is one of the most active paranormal locations in the world, with pictures to prove it, as the shadow man poster sits in the lobby of the prison as proof of his existence.
We had been planning the trip for months and the weekend had finally arrived. I don't know if it was coincidental or not, but the Ghost Adventurers show was on at 2:00 am when I arrived home from work Saturday morning and they just so happened to be at Moundsville Prison. I grabbed a pillow and rested on the couch as I watched Zak and his crew cover the entire prison, calling out the ghost of R.D. in the hole and provoking spirits in the room known as the "Sugar Shack." I eventually closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, I'd have my own adventure in less than 24 hours.
I woke to find Trainwreck had called me a half dozen times, obviously eager to get the ghost hunt under way. We were meeting in South Side at 5 pm and heading to Moundsville from there, about an hour and ten minutes from the city of Pittsburgh. There would be three of us going: myself, Trainwreck and some Phi Delt named Ples. Former TKE's don't normally associate with Phi Delt's but we figured we'd need someone weaker to sacrifice to the spirits, if needed.
I arrived at Trainwreck's house.
"Im going to be honest, I'm a little scared," said Trainwreck. "Are you?"
"Not really," I said.
"Oh, sorry, tough guy!"
"Where's Ples?"
"He's on his way. Did you bring a flashlight."
"Shit! I forgot. I didn't bring anything except my Broke But Still Drinking t-shirt. You know, for the video."
"Nice! Did you bring a video camera," Trainwreck asked.
"No. Ples said he was buying one. Don't tell me he didn't buy a camera."
"I don't think he did."
"Are you shitting me? What the hell is he good for anyway?" I asked.
"He's bringing flashlights," Trainwreck reassured me.
"Oh, Ok. I guess that will be ok. Did anybody bring cameras? I didn't bring anything but my t-shirt and a can of chew."
"I'm bringing my digital camera and I think Ples is bringing one too."
Ples arrived and we took off towards Moundsville, WV. We talked about the possibility of seeing something and how we needed energy drinks to stay up until 6 am. Six am? Wow, I really didn't like the sounds of that. I have a hard enough time staying focused on something for an hour let alone 10 hours. The prison let's you check in at 8 pm, takes you on an hour and a half tour, then lets you have free reign of the prison, you can go off and do what you want to do for 8 hours, NO BOOZE ALLOWED - Bummer!! State property means state consequences to infractions. I didn't want to be forced into staying at the prison. You get to stay from 8 pm until 6 am, or longer if you bring beer.
We arrived and it looked as though more than twenty people were waiting to go on the tour. Trainwreck said they only sold twenty tickets to the tour, by raffle, so it would be extra scary with few people walking around the prison. The tickets cost 60 dollars a piece but it looked like more than twenty people.
"Dude! I thought you said twenty people," I said.
"Yeah, it looks like twenty people just standing there smoking," Ples added.
"The website said twenty tickets."
The prison already pulled its first trick but we walked in anyway. The prison isn't very high but it is extremely long, taking up a few street blocks and I found it odd that it sits directly across the street from a residential street. I wonder what the property value is on a house with a bird's eye view of one of the most haunted prisons in the world, supposedly. It's hard to even get a good picture of the front of the prison unless you are standing off to the side and taking it at an angle because of its length.
We walked in and found our ghost hunting companions already waiting. I swear the prison ships people in from the surrounding trailer parks. Some of the people didn't even have more than two teeth and looked as though they'd done this before, carrying in chairs and coolers, as if they were going to the beach.
"Maybe some of these people should get dental work instead of dropping 60 bucks on a prison tour," Trainwreck said under his breath.
"Yeah, seriously," Ples added.
We checked in and Ples asked the lady at the counter if the spirits follow people home.
"Only if you invite them," she said. "They can't go with you if they're not invited."
"Someone told me not to pick anything up and take it home or the spirits would follow you," Ples said.
"That's not true," she said.
"So much for putting rocks in Trainwreck's backpack," Ples said.
"So it's ok to buy a souvenir and not worry about the ghosts wearing the t-shirt home?" I asked.
"Yes. It's safe to buy a t-shirt," she said.
"Ok. I'll take two," I said, handing over the money and giving her sizes.
I'd say there were about 40 to 50 people waiting to go on the tour. We were divided into two groups and each group assigned a tour guide. We were led off with the first group, getting up close to the tour guide from the start, asking the important questions, "How was it working with the Ghost Adventurers crew?"
"They were awesome. I thought they would be a pain because Zak wore more makeup than me, but they were really cool," she said.
"Were Zak's muscles as big in person as they were on tv?" Trainwreck whispered, causing Ples and I to hold in our laughter.
The darkness is empowering. You are really in total darkness from the get go and it's a good thing Ples brought flashlights because they were needed. The group crammed in close to one another and nobody wandered far from the group.
"Where's the sugar shack?" I asked, remembering it to be one of the most haunted areas.
"We'll get to it," the guide offered.
We were led through the different areas: the mess hall, where colors on the ceiling designated areas to segregate the prisoners between black and white. The mental ward, where old beds and medical chairs still stood, left in the same spot as the day the prison closed. The hole, where a famous prisoner named R.D. had lived. He was the warden's famous rat until fellow prisoners snuck into his living quarters and shanked him to death while he sat on the shitter. The sugar shack, a place where prisoners gathered to play pool and watch television, notorious for its hauntings. Our guide told us the story of the maintenance guy who left tools in the sugar shack. He went back for them, alone, and someone grabbed his arm and spun him around in the empty room. There were already veteran ghost hunters set up in the room when we arrived at the sugar shack. We were also told that the crew of MTV will never be welcomed back at the prison after their crew painted on the walls of the room to give it a more sinister look. Personally, I liked what they had done with the place. It really did give the place a more eerie feel.
We were led through the hallways of the cells. They were tiny cells, about as wide as my arm span and long as a person lying on the floor. We were told that at one time the prison was so overcrowded that 3 people lived in each cell. Trainwreck, Ples and I squeezed into one cell together and were almost on top of each other because it was so small.
"Imagine living like this," said Ples.
"Yeah and now imagine one of us sitting on the shitter while the three of us are in here," I said.
"Ugh!" said Trainwreck.
We were told of how this area housed the most dangerous prisoners. One man, William "Red" Snyder, lived in this wing. He was locked away for killing his parents, cutting them up, and placing them under his bed. He was one of the most brutal and predatory prisoners in the place. Always known for having a dip if tobacco in his mouth, he didn't play well with the other prisoners, so he always left his cell on his own, sometimes with a fellow prisoner 3 cells down. Apparently he and the other prisoner had had a misunderstanding earlier in the day, unknown to the prison guards, and when the cell doors opened, the man down from Red stabbed him to death in front of his cell. It is also known for its paranormal activity. The lady working in the lobby told us a story about Red.
"One day, when I was making my rounds to make sure the place was safe for the arriving tourists, I walked past Red's cell and he said 'Morning Mag' and I said 'Morning Red' and it didn't occur to me until I was a few cells down that Red is dead. The hairs all over my body stood up and I hurried out of the area.
We were then shown the court yard, where it is know to have tons of paranormal activity, and even has documented footage of strange lights in the field. The tour guide said it lasted for over ten minutes, but I can't seem to find it on the internet.
***Interesting notes about the prison***
Moundsville Prison once housed Charles Manson's mother and Charles Manson wrote a letter to request he be moved to Moundsville Prison, because it's where his family is from and he still has relatives in the area. There is a letter in the lobby, written by Charles Manson, requesting his transfer to the prison.
The prison had just under 1000 deaths in the place, from murders, hangings, old age and disease.
We had been given the tour and now it was time to head out on our own. Come back to find out if Broke But Still Drinking thinks the prison is haunted, or whether it's a myth.
To be continued...
We had been planning the trip for months and the weekend had finally arrived. I don't know if it was coincidental or not, but the Ghost Adventurers show was on at 2:00 am when I arrived home from work Saturday morning and they just so happened to be at Moundsville Prison. I grabbed a pillow and rested on the couch as I watched Zak and his crew cover the entire prison, calling out the ghost of R.D. in the hole and provoking spirits in the room known as the "Sugar Shack." I eventually closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, I'd have my own adventure in less than 24 hours.
I woke to find Trainwreck had called me a half dozen times, obviously eager to get the ghost hunt under way. We were meeting in South Side at 5 pm and heading to Moundsville from there, about an hour and ten minutes from the city of Pittsburgh. There would be three of us going: myself, Trainwreck and some Phi Delt named Ples. Former TKE's don't normally associate with Phi Delt's but we figured we'd need someone weaker to sacrifice to the spirits, if needed.
I arrived at Trainwreck's house.
"Im going to be honest, I'm a little scared," said Trainwreck. "Are you?"
"Not really," I said.
"Oh, sorry, tough guy!"
"Where's Ples?"
"He's on his way. Did you bring a flashlight."
"Shit! I forgot. I didn't bring anything except my Broke But Still Drinking t-shirt. You know, for the video."
"Nice! Did you bring a video camera," Trainwreck asked.
"No. Ples said he was buying one. Don't tell me he didn't buy a camera."
"I don't think he did."
"Are you shitting me? What the hell is he good for anyway?" I asked.
"He's bringing flashlights," Trainwreck reassured me.
"Oh, Ok. I guess that will be ok. Did anybody bring cameras? I didn't bring anything but my t-shirt and a can of chew."
"I'm bringing my digital camera and I think Ples is bringing one too."
Ples arrived and we took off towards Moundsville, WV. We talked about the possibility of seeing something and how we needed energy drinks to stay up until 6 am. Six am? Wow, I really didn't like the sounds of that. I have a hard enough time staying focused on something for an hour let alone 10 hours. The prison let's you check in at 8 pm, takes you on an hour and a half tour, then lets you have free reign of the prison, you can go off and do what you want to do for 8 hours, NO BOOZE ALLOWED - Bummer!! State property means state consequences to infractions. I didn't want to be forced into staying at the prison. You get to stay from 8 pm until 6 am, or longer if you bring beer.
We arrived and it looked as though more than twenty people were waiting to go on the tour. Trainwreck said they only sold twenty tickets to the tour, by raffle, so it would be extra scary with few people walking around the prison. The tickets cost 60 dollars a piece but it looked like more than twenty people.
"Dude! I thought you said twenty people," I said.
"Yeah, it looks like twenty people just standing there smoking," Ples added.
"The website said twenty tickets."
The prison already pulled its first trick but we walked in anyway. The prison isn't very high but it is extremely long, taking up a few street blocks and I found it odd that it sits directly across the street from a residential street. I wonder what the property value is on a house with a bird's eye view of one of the most haunted prisons in the world, supposedly. It's hard to even get a good picture of the front of the prison unless you are standing off to the side and taking it at an angle because of its length.
We walked in and found our ghost hunting companions already waiting. I swear the prison ships people in from the surrounding trailer parks. Some of the people didn't even have more than two teeth and looked as though they'd done this before, carrying in chairs and coolers, as if they were going to the beach.
"Maybe some of these people should get dental work instead of dropping 60 bucks on a prison tour," Trainwreck said under his breath.
"Yeah, seriously," Ples added.
We checked in and Ples asked the lady at the counter if the spirits follow people home.
"Only if you invite them," she said. "They can't go with you if they're not invited."
"Someone told me not to pick anything up and take it home or the spirits would follow you," Ples said.
"That's not true," she said.
"So much for putting rocks in Trainwreck's backpack," Ples said.
"So it's ok to buy a souvenir and not worry about the ghosts wearing the t-shirt home?" I asked.
"Yes. It's safe to buy a t-shirt," she said.
"Ok. I'll take two," I said, handing over the money and giving her sizes.
I'd say there were about 40 to 50 people waiting to go on the tour. We were divided into two groups and each group assigned a tour guide. We were led off with the first group, getting up close to the tour guide from the start, asking the important questions, "How was it working with the Ghost Adventurers crew?"
"They were awesome. I thought they would be a pain because Zak wore more makeup than me, but they were really cool," she said.
"Were Zak's muscles as big in person as they were on tv?" Trainwreck whispered, causing Ples and I to hold in our laughter.
The darkness is empowering. You are really in total darkness from the get go and it's a good thing Ples brought flashlights because they were needed. The group crammed in close to one another and nobody wandered far from the group.
"Where's the sugar shack?" I asked, remembering it to be one of the most haunted areas.
"We'll get to it," the guide offered.
We were led through the different areas: the mess hall, where colors on the ceiling designated areas to segregate the prisoners between black and white. The mental ward, where old beds and medical chairs still stood, left in the same spot as the day the prison closed. The hole, where a famous prisoner named R.D. had lived. He was the warden's famous rat until fellow prisoners snuck into his living quarters and shanked him to death while he sat on the shitter. The sugar shack, a place where prisoners gathered to play pool and watch television, notorious for its hauntings. Our guide told us the story of the maintenance guy who left tools in the sugar shack. He went back for them, alone, and someone grabbed his arm and spun him around in the empty room. There were already veteran ghost hunters set up in the room when we arrived at the sugar shack. We were also told that the crew of MTV will never be welcomed back at the prison after their crew painted on the walls of the room to give it a more sinister look. Personally, I liked what they had done with the place. It really did give the place a more eerie feel.
We were led through the hallways of the cells. They were tiny cells, about as wide as my arm span and long as a person lying on the floor. We were told that at one time the prison was so overcrowded that 3 people lived in each cell. Trainwreck, Ples and I squeezed into one cell together and were almost on top of each other because it was so small.
"Imagine living like this," said Ples.
"Yeah and now imagine one of us sitting on the shitter while the three of us are in here," I said.
"Ugh!" said Trainwreck.
We were told of how this area housed the most dangerous prisoners. One man, William "Red" Snyder, lived in this wing. He was locked away for killing his parents, cutting them up, and placing them under his bed. He was one of the most brutal and predatory prisoners in the place. Always known for having a dip if tobacco in his mouth, he didn't play well with the other prisoners, so he always left his cell on his own, sometimes with a fellow prisoner 3 cells down. Apparently he and the other prisoner had had a misunderstanding earlier in the day, unknown to the prison guards, and when the cell doors opened, the man down from Red stabbed him to death in front of his cell. It is also known for its paranormal activity. The lady working in the lobby told us a story about Red.
"One day, when I was making my rounds to make sure the place was safe for the arriving tourists, I walked past Red's cell and he said 'Morning Mag' and I said 'Morning Red' and it didn't occur to me until I was a few cells down that Red is dead. The hairs all over my body stood up and I hurried out of the area.
We were then shown the court yard, where it is know to have tons of paranormal activity, and even has documented footage of strange lights in the field. The tour guide said it lasted for over ten minutes, but I can't seem to find it on the internet.
***Interesting notes about the prison***
Moundsville Prison once housed Charles Manson's mother and Charles Manson wrote a letter to request he be moved to Moundsville Prison, because it's where his family is from and he still has relatives in the area. There is a letter in the lobby, written by Charles Manson, requesting his transfer to the prison.
The prison had just under 1000 deaths in the place, from murders, hangings, old age and disease.
We had been given the tour and now it was time to head out on our own. Come back to find out if Broke But Still Drinking thinks the prison is haunted, or whether it's a myth.
To be continued...
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Last Munchkin, Mickey Carroll, dies
1919 -2009
Why is this significant to the Broke But Still Drinking readers? Because now I can finally go to sleep each night without looking under my bed. The Munchkins, of the Wizard of Oz, have caused many of sleepless nights for children all around the world.
"We represent the Lullaby League
The Lullaby League, the Lullaby League.
And in the name of the Lullaby League
We wish to welcome you to Munchkin Land!"
This song would ring through my head as I held the covers up close to my chin, peaking from the corners of my eyes, hoping the munchkins only lived in the land of Oz, and not under my bed.
God rest your soul, Mickey, and good night children.
Sleep well.
Ok, one last scare.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Oprah chicken riot
New York - What started out as any other normal day for employees quickly turned ugly as thousands of hungry viewers stormed the KFC located on 42nd street in Manhattan. Talk show mogul, Oprah Winfrey, apparently didn't think ahead when she posted coupons for free chicken dinners on her website.
Employees said they felt the impending danger before they ever saw it. Pots, pans and shakers began to rattle as condiments fell from their holders, spilling onto the floor. One employee stated, "We thought it was an earthquake, but it eventually stopped. Then, all of a sudden, it started up again." Onlookers say the hungry mob of overweight viewers paused somewhere between 38th and 39th, to catch a breath, before continuing on with their hunger-filled rush.
Employees tried to shut the doors but were overpowered by salivating citizens. The chicken didn't stand a chance, as one person began eating a chicken right from the freezer, and another licked the fingers of the girl in charge of seasoning. We caught up with the manager who only said, "Shit! They don't pay me enough for this shit," and walked away, throwing his apron into the trash can.
Traffic was slowed for up to an hour and the store had to be closed for 3 when fireman had to be called in, with the jaws of life, to cut free two women who had become lodged in the rear entrance while trying to be first in line.
Oprah responded with, "I'm sorry. I never meant to ruffle any feathers."
Broke But Still Drinking has forewarned local 7-11 employees of our upcoming "free 6-pack coupon" promotion, planned for sometime this summer.
Employees said they felt the impending danger before they ever saw it. Pots, pans and shakers began to rattle as condiments fell from their holders, spilling onto the floor. One employee stated, "We thought it was an earthquake, but it eventually stopped. Then, all of a sudden, it started up again." Onlookers say the hungry mob of overweight viewers paused somewhere between 38th and 39th, to catch a breath, before continuing on with their hunger-filled rush.
Employees tried to shut the doors but were overpowered by salivating citizens. The chicken didn't stand a chance, as one person began eating a chicken right from the freezer, and another licked the fingers of the girl in charge of seasoning. We caught up with the manager who only said, "Shit! They don't pay me enough for this shit," and walked away, throwing his apron into the trash can.
Traffic was slowed for up to an hour and the store had to be closed for 3 when fireman had to be called in, with the jaws of life, to cut free two women who had become lodged in the rear entrance while trying to be first in line.
Oprah responded with, "I'm sorry. I never meant to ruffle any feathers."
Broke But Still Drinking has forewarned local 7-11 employees of our upcoming "free 6-pack coupon" promotion, planned for sometime this summer.
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