Has anything genuinely creepy or unnerving ever happened to you?

ButtonyBoo wrote: »

On another note, has anyone ever heard of someone getting a strong smell of flowers as someone dies? My mother got this when two of my grandparents died, and she was even asking people in the room were they wearing perfume, it was so strong to her.

This rings a bell, I've definitely heard of it. Never experienced it though.

This isn't particularly creepy, considering there's a pretty obvious explanation to it, but at the time it was extremely unnerving. Anywho, I bought a 'score' of hash in Spain at the tender age of 15. I was going through a phase of smoking quite a lot of it at the time - a habit which I have since stopped completely - so naturally one of the first things to do upon landing in the country was to embark on a quest to find some, which proved frighteningly simple in retrospect.

Anyways, myself and my mate - whose parents brought us over - went wandering the mean streets of Lloret de Mar. In my mind, I only needed two things that night: cider, because I famously cannot drink beer, and hash. Would you believe me if I said it was far easier to obtain the hash? No word of a lie.

I was wearing a t-shirt which read: 'Mellow Stages' with the Yellow Pages logo-type thing under it, which sums up what kinda c*nt I was when I was that age. So, how did I get my hands on a bit of hash? Well, his name was Bart and he was Polish. I can still see his face now, because it's quite difficult to forget the person who nearly killed you. Are you intrigued? Read on so.

So, we got chatting to Bart anyways. He was good with people, but he was not good people. He was one of those w*nkers who stands outside a club or a bar handing out 'free shot' coupons. I was a bit pissed off shots of Tequila from a previous bar - where we faced off with Ze Germans in Pool, who insisted on playing safety shots for some reason - so I was drunk enough to ask complete strangers odd questions, like "where I can buy hash?".

It's one of the greatest examples of the adage "ask and you shall receive" I've ever known, as Bart put me in touch with fellow w*nker Michael - a Dutch man who did the same job about 10 metres away outside a bar called The Stones. You know that Rolling Stones symbol - the tongue? That was the bar's logo.

Now, Michael wasn't so much a drug-dealer as he was a bloke who flogged me his own lump I believe. It was a score, which has the street-value of about €20, hence the name 'score'. I would've paid something in the region of that I don't really remember, I was just quite happy with the opportunity to buy it. It was a smooth transaction because the bloke's English was superb and we went on our merry way.

I should state I couldn't, and still can't roll a spliff. It's an art. Some people are like Michelangelo with a couple of rizlas, while others are like a retard doing finger-paintings. You would put me in the latter bracket and, considering my mate wasn't really into that sh*t, I had problems with smoking it. I could have got my hands on an empty bottle and tinfoil and forged a make-shift bong, but I wanted a joint.

Now, here is the second example of how downright brazen I was as a drunk, 15-year-old. I approached random people on the beach and began asking them to roll a one-skin joint - or a 'pinner' as some of you may know it. I can't remember how long I spent asking people before getting lucky, it could've been the first person who obliged or it could have been the 78th. The deed was done anyway.

So, I smoked it all to myself. I've got no recollection of what happened directly after this, probably because it was over a decade ago rather than the drugs, but the horror I experienced back at the apartment will probably live with me forever.

Remember, I was quite a seasoned smoker despite my age and I began suffering from symptoms which were NOT synonymous with your average, run-of-the-mill hash. I was lying on the bed trying to sleep my way through this experience, but it was proving futile.

Do you know Dumb and Dumber? There's a song in that called Mary Moe and I kept hearing the lyrics being whispered directly into my ear, which was really, really terrifying. We watched it on the flight over which I believe could be related to the audio-hallucination. To this day, my mate swears that he wasn't the one doing it.

I'm not ashamed to admit I was on the verge of tears. I wasn't mentally equipped to deal with this. Then, to add to my horrible experience, I began putting my hand through my chest - not literally, of course, but it was like I was a ghost which made me freak out even more. I got to sleep in the end and woke up knowing of my experience the night before, and knowing there was no chance I was ever going to dabble in this demonic piece of sh*t again.

And this is how f*cking thick I was at that age, and here's the third example of my youthful brazenness - but I was stone-cold sober this time. After deciding I didn't want it anymore, but couldn't bring myself to throw it away for some reason, we went down the beach and I began asking random men if they wanted to take it off my hands for a very reasonable price. I thought I found a buyer too, but the bloke broke a tiny bit off because the heat had softened it up, put it in the top of his ordinary cigarette before lighting it up. Then he just f*cked off on me. That may sound like bull**** but on my mother's ashes it's absolutely true. It was f*cking bizarre.

So, having failed to find a buyer, there was only one thing left to do: discard it. By this stage the initial block was a write-off. Had I went back to smoke it again I would've been smoking hash laced with Smarties after a few stowaway sweets had merged with the hash in my pocket. Again, bear in mind the heat. I bit the bullet, though, and threw it off my balcony on to an adjacent roof. I was disappointed because for some reason I really, really didn't want to part ways with it.

However, I enjoyed a little retail-therapy then and acquired an AK47 version of a BB/pellet gun. That proved to be a worse purchase than the f*cking hash because I soon discovered that it fired the pellets at the same rate as a pistol rather than an actual machine gun, which was disappointing, but what can I say? I was dumb.

Definitely one of the most unnerving experiences of my life. It was horrible, and I'm convinced that it was laced with something. LSD or acid or some sh*t. Anyways, I'm of the opinion that any mistake which leads to a mildly funny story shouldn't be viewed as a mistake. F*ck it.

was that the song where the line was , " she dont eat meat but sure likes the bone"?
just started singing that to myself there 5 mins ago :O

Shadow1983 wrote:

Went to visit a psychic / healer about 2 years ago. Apparently this lady will only take an appointment with you if she feels you need to be seen and refuses to take your full name when booking, only your first name. I had went to visit my parents the day before & found a book that distant Canadian relatives had published and sent over about our family history. Naturally I flicked to the section on my immediate family and saw that it would've been my long deceased Grandfather's birthday the next day. Thought no more of it & went to visit the psychic the next day. When I went in she addressed me by my first name and Jane, I said no, it's just "first name", she looked at me a bit strangely and continued anyway. She then described a very tall man and a very small woman who were always watching over me. To me it was obvious that they were my grandparents (there was almost 2 feet in height difference between them) but I said nothing as I didn't want to be too open with her, I suppose I was sceptical. She was then able to tell me my Grandfather's first name and that he seemed to be celebrating something as he was holding a cake. At that point I was so shocked I burst into tears & told her she was right that it was my Grandfather and that it would've been his birthday that day. She gave me a few minutes to compose myself & then told me that they had a young child with them, a little girl called Jane. Now here's the kicker, Jane would've been my aunt but died as a child. Needless to say I left that day an emotional wreck!

That's hardly a women in Donegal is it?

@ hammer 89, why do you write as if your writing a fcuking novel, christ that was hard reading

shamrock55 wrote: »

@ hammer 89, why do you write as if your writing a fcuking novel, christ that was hard reading

Dare I suggest you wouldn't have read the full thing if it was that hard? I barely finished your post - the one I quoted.

Shadow1983 wrote:

Yep, sure was!

I've heard an awful lot of stories about her along the same lines. A friend of the family found out about a cousin of hers through her, a cousin which was a stillborn. I'm not much for that kinda thing but I have heard a lot of stories. She only lives a half an hour away too, must try her for myself!

Bloody 7up bottle just cracked frightened the bejasus out of me, this thread youuuuuu

Here's a weird one...

My friend lives in a well known city centre apartment block and ive been staying with her the past few days. Sometimes when I'm walking down the hallway I feel as if someone is behind me. mentioned it to my friend and she said the neighbour has seen the ghost of a woman walking down the hallway on two occasions. Then we were recounting the story to her flatmate and she said that the other neighbour (who moved out quite some time ago) also felt as if someone was behind her and turned around and saw this woman ghost. The two girls lived in the apartment block at different times and do not know each other yet the have the same story.
We were just messing a few minutes ago and I said lets take a picture and see if she pops up. She didn't BUT the picture took upside down. I've a iPhone and this has never happened to me before. I did it again to see if it was an error and same thing. Definitely weird

newmug wrote: »

You'd be messing with the devil. Dont.

do tell. how do you know this?

DareGod wrote: »

I'm sorry, but anyone who willingly read a post that long only has themselves to blame :pac:

I really don't get the criticism. Was a fine, well written post.

AH'ers seem to balk at the prospect of reading anything more than five lines long.

DareGod wrote: »

It's called After Hours for a reason.

Yeah, 'cos it's populated by idiots. Like most actual after hour sessions.

DeadHand wrote: »

I really don't get the criticism. Was a fine, well written post.

AH'ers seem to balk at the prospect of reading anything more than five lines long.

Yeah, I thanked before I even got to the end because I was enjoying it so much. I'd take this over 'when i was young in the country the healer lady predicted my mam was going to die and then 20 years later she did OOH SO SPOOKY' posts any day.