Log in

No account? Create an account

The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.

Guess I'd better start working full shifts semi-regularly again...

Journal Info

joan blondell
I'd tell you, but big brother's watching...
Paranormal Activity Research Association of Denver (of which I am a member)

Guess I'd better start working full shifts semi-regularly again...

Previous Entry Share Next Entry
Because there's shit I wanna buy. Specifically, ghost hunting shit. A few friends and I are trying to get together a group and I definitely want to have my own equipment. So I'm gonna need to get a digital audio recorder (relatively cheap, from what I've seen on Amazon) and an EMF detector (not as expensive as I expected) for starters. My friend, Jimbo, whose actually done this stuff before, already has a lot of equipment, so yay.
And thanks to a coworker who knows the manager of a haunted restaurant, we may have somewhere to investigate.
So...my mom, dad, and my grandma on my dad's side (nice, loopy-but-still-crazy granny) went up to Golden for the Saturday before Father's Day. Ate lunch, took the drive up Lookout Mountain because my mom and dad were arguing over the name of one of the restaurants near the top, got some Starbucks, and my grandma asked how mountains are formed, oh, about FIFTY times.
She's gotten seriously forgetful over the years. Like reeeealy forgetful.
Oh, and she doesn't like it when men wear shorts or women wear ties. LMAO. Because a man came into the restaurant in shorts and she just would not let it go. She couldn't remember what salsa was - she seriously asked about it like, eight times during the meal - but the man in his shorts is seared into her memory, I swear. No, actually. I think he was new to her too, every time she asked about him.
My grandma: Tristan, look at that man. Look at them shorts. Look how he sits like that. He looks like he's asking for something!
Me: ...Okay.
Yes, if I'm understanding this right, all men who wear shorts are gigolos. According to my Grandma Irene, anyway.
My dad: She does this all the time. Men in shorts and women in ties. She gets mad at the lady at the counter at Country Buffet because she wears a tie.
My grandma: We're not at Country Buffet.
My dad: I know we're not at Country Buffet. We're in Golden.
My grandma: Have I been here before?
My dad: Yes.
My grandma: Where is this?
My dad: Golden. We're in Golden.
My grandma: What is this?
My dad: It's salsa.
My grandma: It's what?
My dad: Salsa.
My grandma: What's that?
Me: Sauce...with tomatoes and onion and spices and stuff...
My dad: Eat it. Dip your chip in it and eat it.
My grandma: It's good.
My dad: That's wonderful.
My grandma: What is this stuff?
My dad: I told you, it's salsa.
My grandma: Look at that man over there...
...Yeah. XD
Then we hit Starbucks...where my grandma, A) was convinced we had another person with us and had lost her, and B) decided she was going to do something about them damn mountains once and for all.
My grandma: What created them mountains?
My mom: Earthquakes.
My grandma: Right, right. Earthquakes.
My grandma: What caused the mountains?
My dad: You just asked that. Earthquakes.
My grandma: Where did the mountains come from?
My dad: Earthquakes. The mountains were created by earthquakes.
My grandma: Where's the other woman?
Me: ...What?
My grandma: The woman that was with us today.
Me: We're all here...
My grandma: Where's the other lady at?
My dad: Mother, you are losing your mind. Nobody else came with us today. You, me, Carla, and Tristan. Drink your coffee. And the mountains were formed by earthquakes.
My grandma: Yup. Earthquakes.
My grandma: I'm gonna take that mountain down.
Me: (bursting into laughter)
My mom: (trying not to burst into laughter)
My dad: What? How?
My grandma: With a shovel.
My dad: You're gonna shovel down a mountain?
My grandma: Yup.
My dad: I have a shovel in the truck. How 'bout I leave you up there and come back to check on you in about a year and see how you're doing?
My grandma: Okay.

Well, my Ghost Adventures episode is done loading, so I am off to drool over Zak Bagans and scare myself before going to bed. :)
Powered by LiveJournal.com