Tag Archives: blog

Random Acts of Kindness

So, this was an awesome surprise today!

I was notified that an online newspaper called, Random Acts of Kindness Around Twitter had posted one of my blog posts on the front page of their site.

(UPDATE: This site rotates articles every 24 hours. Mine can now be viewed in the archives on November 22, 2012.)

I don’t know who is behind the site or who provided my post, but I’d absolutely love to shake their hand and thank them!

Here is the link: Random Acts of Kindness Around Twitter

Please visit their page and subscribe!

It’s an awesome feeling that more and more people are doing Random Acts of Kindness. We definitely need it, that’s for sure!

I’m thinking about doing a special section on this blog for such things, hoping that readers like you will get behind it and participate.  Who’s with me?  Leave a comment and let me know. Also, if you have any ideas, let me know that too!

OR…if you have a story to tell, let me know so we can talk about you doing a guest post! I’d really like to see this grow wings and take off!

Funny Search Engine Terms

WordPress has this fun little feature built-in where you can see what words people use to find your blog. It’s actually called, “Search Engine Terms,” but it should be called, “Hilarious things people type.”  Here are the one’s that have shown up on my statistics and I’ve added my commentary (in italics) for more fun. Enjoy!

Jen Lancaster isn’t funny
(Whatever! She’s totally hilarious!)

Thanksgiving pun images

quiet meow noisy eating weight loss
(Is this a new diet? Note to self: must try. How in the hell did they find my blog with those search terms?)

Twinkie truck
(People are obviously mourning the loss of Hostess. Uh, I’m glad I could help?)

is my gas pilot light making me sneeze
(Probably because it’s the #1 cause for allergies)

Church’s reaction to e l james (<—the author of 50 Shades of Grey)
(They probably had a bonfire after boozing it up at the local bar)

shit my pants
(If you have to search the internet to figure out if you’ve really shit your pants, you have bigger issues, my friend)

poop “his diaper”
(Ditto. See above response)

naughty halloween cartoons
(50 Shades of Grey sounds like it would be right up your alley. Pick up the Trilogy and quit looking at cartoons)

how many times is the word murmur used in 50 shades of grey
(Too many to count. Take my word for it)

saying goodbye to mother email
(just hit ‘send’ already!)

were to no c lub peng to be a host
(maybe this person should use Google Translate?)

can you get a bbl with out stomach being liposuction
(this person needs to see a doctor — STAT!)

I’m a curmudgeon i admit it
(admitting it is the first step to recovery!)

dead in a rocking chair
(I think I just lost a reader? Call 9-1-1!)

the lifee i live so you don’t have t
(clearly they lost their train of thought and couldn’t finish the sentence. Nor could they spell “life” properly)

today i pooped myself
(I’m sorry, but shit happens)

life live grammar nazi
(apparently you aren’t a grammar nazi and should seek another career)

falling down on halloween cartoons
(maybe you should watch your alcohol consumption? Just a thought.)

New one added today:  moose male enhancement

I am grateful that people are able to find my blog, but I do find their search terms rather funny!

The Haunted House (my true story)

Right out of high school, I used to work for a veterinary hospital. A lot of clients asked me if I ever considered pet sitting, so a side business was formed. Not only would I watch over the animals, but also collect the mail, secure the premises, and water household (and outdoor) plants.

I received a call from Mrs. Peterson who asked if I could watch her cocker spaniel, Waggles, for 10 days. She actually wanted me to stay at her house the whole time, which I would do occasionally on a first come, first serve basis (I can’t be in two places at once, people!). So I scheduled her and agreed to stay at her house.

A few days before her departure, I dropped by to get the house keys and receive any instructions for taking care of Waggles and the house.  The name fit the dog, because he didn’t just wag his tail, but his rear end was all over the place when he got excited. He really was one of the sweetest dogs.

She gave me a tour of her house, which was huge. Her husband was President of Kraft Foods and she lived across the street from Ross Perot, so now you get the idea of what kind of house this was.  I’ve drawn a picture of the house (don’t judge my artistic skillz, yo) so you can get a better idea:

Floor Plan

Not drawn to scale, obviously, because this house was huge!

The house was square and was framed around an outdoor courtyard.  The red box are windows surrounding a large tree (green circle) that grew outside.  Pretty cool, huh?

Anyway, my first night there, I was laying on the couch watching TV. Since I had arrived, I had the unsettled feeling that I was being watched. I shrugged it off thinking that maybe the outside courtyard and all the windows was giving me the willies.  However, my feelings were so unsettled, that I didn’t feel comfortable walking down the hall to go to sleep in the guest bedroom.  It was even too eerie for me to walk around to make sure windows were closed and locked. I did check the front door, though, and it was secure. Besides, it was summertime so I didn’t suspect any windows would have been open because the air conditioner was running.  Ever been in Texas during the summer? Yeah, windows are closed! So, instead of going to the guest room, I decided to sleep on the couch.  Waggles laid down on the floor next to me.

At around 3:00am, I was awoken by Waggles barking.  I raised up and looked at him.  He was facing the hallway and sounded downright vicious. As he continued his protest, he began backing up, still staring down the hallway. My first thought was that someone had gotten into the house.  I called out, “Hello?”  (yeah, I know, I know…typical horror movie chick walking straight to the killer, right?)  There was no answer.  Obviously.  Would a killer truly answer? Hell no. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and goosebumps formed on my arms. Out of complete terror, my eyes started to tear up. I couldn’t explain the feeling.  I grabbed a baseball bat that was sitting behind a chair in the corner of the living room and forced myself to check out the house. It was sealed tight. Relieved that nobody was in the house, I went to go quiet Waggles down, but he wasn’t having it.  All of a sudden, the stereo, which was housed in the entertainment center below the TV came on full blast.  I had to cover my ears. Waggles was still barking and was now backed up near the kitchen. I went over and turned off the stereo. Still feeling as if I was being watched, the eerie sensation grew stronger. I grabbed my keys, told Waggles he was on his own and left. I went home to sleep off the next few hours.

The next night, I tried to sleep there again. I claimed the couch and began watching TV, laughing off the previous night, thinking my imagination had gotten the best of me.  I got up to use the bathroom and when I walked in, the sink turned on full blast. I shut it off, grabbed my keys, and left.

Mrs. Peterson had a baby grand piano in the living room and the lid was open. One time, I went over there and played a few notes. Once I began, Waggles hopped up on the couch and flipped over.  You know how some dogs will kick their legs when their belly’s are rubbed? Well, that is what Waggles was doing.  I stopped playing the piano and Waggles stopped kicking.  I started playing again and he started all over again. I though, “Huh. The dog must really like the piano.” Anyway, I made sure Waggles had food and water, pet the top of his head and told him I’d be back after work.

When I arrived that evening, the stereo was going full blast again, the water in the bathroom was flowing, and the piano lid was closed. I fed Waggles, grabbed my keys, and said out loud, “I’m not staying here another night!”

Every day after that, I would go by and take care of Waggles in the morning, afternoon, and night, but I refused to stay. It got to the point that I would place the mail in the garage, and scoot the dogs water and food bowls through the doggie door. Yeah, I was that scared.

When Mrs. Peterson came back home, I drove back over there to (happily) return her keys. We were standing in the kitchen and she asked how things went.

Me: I have to be honest with you, Mrs. Peterson. I didn’t stay here after the second night.

I gave a nervous laugh and continued:

Me: Some strange things are going on in your house and I didn’t feel comfortable.

Mrs. Peterson looked at me in a VERY serious manner and I thought, “Oh hell. She’s pissed,” but instead, she asked, “Why? What happened to you?”

The goosebumps and tears returned as I recounted the strange things that happened while I was there.

Mrs. Peterson (nodding): The same things have happened to me.

Me (in a high pitched voice): Don’t you think that might have been helpful information before I agreed to stay here?

Mrs. Peterson: Let me tell you a story.

Me: Oh, shit.

She told me that she had twin boys. One of the boys was killed in a drunk driving accident at 3:00am a year prior.  Since then, strange things had been going on in the house.  He loved to play the stereo really loud, he loved to play the piano, and occasionally, he would absently forget to turn off the water in the bathroom. Waggles was her son’s dog. She said she believed that it was his way of letting her know that he was still around.

Me: Well, he didn’t have to let me know. I was fine being clueless.

I continued to look after Waggles, but Mrs. Peterson understood why I wouldn’t stay the night ever again.

A Lost Soul

Anna enjoyed walking in the woods alone. It seemed to calm her mind and ease all the worries in the world. She took in the scents of wood, fallen leaves, and fresh water. Something nagged her today. She couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong and it drove her to quicken her steps and rush along the path that usually took a few hours to walk. When she reached an open area, she checked her phone for any missed calls or messages. None. She took in a deep breath and from the corner of her eye, she noticed something in the woods. She eased over to the spot, but couldn’t see anything that would have caught her attention. She shrugged and continued moving along the path. 

After a few more steps, Anna felt as though someone watched her from behind. She stopped and turned. Nothing. Feeling a little uneasy, she decided to turn around to shorten the length of her walk. Anna didn’t get far before she heard a blood-curdling scream. She ran. Her heart pounded in her chest and every sound seemed amplified and menacing. When she reached the head of the trail, she leaned over to catch her breath. 

A couple and their small children were playing in the open field next to the woods. Anna approached them. “Hello, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a question.” 

The father and mother smiled then seen somehow that Anna was distressed. The mother swooped up her kids on the pretense of chasing butterflies and left her husband behind to talk with Anna. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Did you hear someone screaming just a few moments ago?”

He scrunched up his eyebrows and shook his head, no. “Sorry.” 

“That’s okay,” Anna said. “Probably, my imagination. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Anna walked back to her car and turned one last time to look at the woods. A white spot moved through the trees. She waited for the person to reach the head of the path, but no one ever came. Once the white presence reached the open, it disappeared. She shook her head and got into her vehicle and left. 

Author’s Note:

The next weekend, my aunt and I went for a walk on another path in the same park. When we came back home, we took the long way home which meant passing the trail head where I had my encounter. The road was blocked. Police, news crews and a coroner’s van sat in the parking lot. I looked at my aunt. She returned the glance. Later that night, I found out that a woman had been murdered a county away and her body had been dumped in the very woods where I had my encounter.


Author Jennifer KilbyThanks to Jennifer Kilby for being a guest blogger today!  You can find Jennifer at the following locations:

Website: http://jenniferdonohoe.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jenniferdonohoeauthor
Twitter: @donohoejennifer

She is also the author of: The Legend of the Travelers: Willow’s Journey

You can pick up a copy of her book here: http://amzn.com/1475033664 or here: http://bit.ly/SNurs8


Most people have heard of Amityville Horror, a book and movie based on the supposed true paranormal events that took place in a house located in the suburbs of Long Island.  What they don’t know is that an equally horrible event occurred in the suburbs of Minnesota.

This tale of terror began when Dale and Dot Doberstein, a typical middle class couple, bought what they thought was their dream home. What they didn’t know was that their house was haunted by the ghost of a vegetarian health food fanatic who was tragically killed after being run down by a Hostess Twinkie truck while crossing the street in order to buy a wheat grass and kelp smoothie.

Twinkie Truck

Soon after the Doberstein’s moved in strange things began to happen. First their bottle of A1 Steak sauce disappeared. Then they found Kashi cereal in the pockets of all their clothes. Someone squeezed all the loaves of Wonder Bread in the middle. All their red meat vanished and in its place they found squares of tofu.

One night Dale woke up and went to get a glass of water. When he walked into the kitchen he saw a white vapor cooking stir-fried vegetables in a wok.

The final straw came when the couple heard an unearthly voice yelling at them to “GET OUT!” They later realized the voice was actually saying, “EAT SPROUTS!”

Dale and Dot moved out of their house and bought a condo in downtown Minneapolis. However, they later claimed that walking around the city after dark was more terrifying than living in a haunted house and they moved back in with the ghost.


Deb Claxton came back, y’all!
Check out her blog here:  http://www.debclaxton.com/blog.html

Deb ClaxtonDeb is a humor writer, author, and former newspaper reporter. She wrote a popular weekly humor column called, “98% Fat Free – The Lite Side.”  She received several requests to publish her humor columns and, “It Ain’t Heavy – It’s the Lite Side” was born.  Her book takes a humorous look at zombies, the Mayan calendar, movies, music, family life, holidays, and much more. Also, be on the lookout for her contribution in a new collection of humorous medical themed stories in, “My Funny Major Medical.”

You can get your very own copy at Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/0615428541

Amityville Nightmare

Amityville Horror House

One Friday evening in 2005, my husband and I were able to have a date night so we decided to go see the the newest version of Amityville Horror.  We were both quite excited since this was one of our first outings since we had our first born son, Paul, in February. Thankfully, my in-laws wanted to have their time with him and they decided to watch him so we could go.

I will say right now, I am not at all a horror aficionado.  However, my husband Jeremy is and he had read so much about the story surrounding the movie.  He had also seen the originals that had come out earlier.  He was quite excited, and I was glad to be getting out of the house.

We went into the theater and ordered a large popcorn and two medium drinks.  Inside the theater, it was a full house.  Luckily, we were early so we got seats at the top, because for us, those are the best ones.  Then the movie began.  I was scared and kept grabbing on to my husband, while he didn’t even flinch.  At one point, I almost screamed and he just smiled at me and said, “It is okay babe.”

After a couple of hours (that felt like an eternity for me), the movie was finally over.  All-in-all I was glad he liked it, and I was just glad to be out of the theater. Afterwards, we picked up our son Paul who was asleep and headed back to our apartment.

As I placed our son into his crib, I made sure to turn on his baby monitor, so we could hear him if he got up in the middle of the night.  Soon after, husband and I went to bed.  My husband was startled around 3:00 a.m. because he thought he heard our son on the monitor.

“Shh,” he said, “go back to bed.  I will get him.”

“Thanks babe,”  I answered.

Just then, we heard some laughter on the baby monitor.

“Hmm,” said my husband.

“What is it?”  I called out.

“Sylvia, Come quick!”

He only calls me Sylvia when it is something serious.  I tried not to panic.

As I quickly dashed into our son’s room, we both realized our son was still asleep.  However, we still could hear a baby laughing on the monitor.

“It is just like in the movie,” said my husband.

“What are you talking about?”  I answered, as I drank some water.

He then added, “Remember, when the father in the movie started getting possessed, the voices awoke him at 3:00 a.m. and all this strange stuff began to happen?”

“This is ridiculous,” I added, “purely coincidence!”

The next day, when we woke up, we were still in a state of panic over what had transpired on the baby monitor.  My husband looked so worn out from lack of sleep.  I made him go back to bed and get some rest.

Soon after, my good friend Marcy called me.  She was excited to know how my date night had gone.  “Oh, it was okay,” I said.  “But the strangest thing happened to us last night.”

“Oh?” she said in a curious tone.

I began to share the accounts of what had happened.  My friend Marcie broke out in laughter.

“What is so funny Marcie?”

“I’m sorry,” she explained.  “I don’t mean to laugh, but what you overheard last night was probably another person’s baby in the apartment nearest you!”  Then she added, “When Tony and I lived in our Condo, our baby monitors would pick up on other people’s feedback.”

After, she said that I let out a sigh of relief.  After my husband awoke from his nap, I began to tell him about what Marcy had mentioned.  He laughed.

“Well I am glad that is over,” he said.

Then I added, “I am just glad it wasn’t Amityville Nightmare after all!”

“You and me both!”  exclaimed my husband Jeremy.


Sylvia SteinSylvia Stein is an aspiring writer who has written a suspenseful thriller entitled, Battered Mind.

She is married with three children and currently resides in North Carolina.

You find Sylvia at the following:
Twitter: @sylvia_stein07
Blog:  http://ssteinwriting.wordpress.com/ 
Facebook:  www.facebook.com/SylWriter07

The Hollow Voice

Nestled on the banks of the Scioto River, surrounded by a deep forest, and on the edge of the southern Ohio town of Portsmouth, sits a small hollow known as Highland Bend. I called this hollow home for most of my life and it is because of this place that I developed my interest in the supernatural, for it wasn’t just one old house, street, or part of the forest that was haunted, but the hollow as a whole.

Much like Washington Irving’s Sleepy Hollow, Highland Bend had its share of ghostly legends, and I could share with you several that I experienced myself, but I will share one that stands out in my mind as the scariest and most profound.

Ms. Smith lived several houses down from my family with her teen son David in an old mobile home. Truth be told, the home should have been condemned. David, was fifteen and had Downs Syndrome, and would often get into mischief.

It was a Halloween night and Ms. Smith was hysterical because David had wandered off and had been missing for several hours. After going to several of our neighbors’ homes asking if they had seen him, they finally joined the search for David. My friends and I decided that we would help.

I was seventeen at this time, and I knew the hollow pretty well. As the evening progressed, everyone became more concerned about David’s safety, especially since it was nearing midnight.

The jack o’ lanterns with their glowing jagged faces took on an ominous air instead of the whimsical and protective nature I had always attributed to them. Even the costumes the other kids in our neighborhood wore made me nervous.

As two of my friends and I walked past a path which led into the woods and eventually down to the banks of Scioto River, it occurred to me that David may have gone to the river.

I discussed this with my friends and we agreed that we needed to check. However, my friends, who were much younger than I, were too afraid to go into the woods. I, on the other hand, was not.

I headed down the dark twisted path that led down to the river, my flashlight guiding my way.  A wind howled through the twisted branches over my head, rustling autumn leaves across the path.

It was that wind that I had grown accustomed to living in Highland Bend, especially on Halloween night. This strange wind had howled through the trees in our little hollow every Halloween, even on the most clearest of days. The wind seemed to herald the arrival of Halloween, and of the spirits that haunted the hollow, and the ancient night.

As I continued farther down the path and deeper into the woods, I heard David’s voice. I picked up my pace knowing that he was very close to the river. As I got closer I realized that David was having a conversation with someone or something.

“No…I can’t do that. My Mom would get really mad at me,” David said.

I finally got to the shore and found David sitting on the edge of the water alone. David was staring straight ahead into the dark river. I slowly walked up to him as he continued to talk to something. His plastic Superman costume was covered in dirt and fresh mud. David clutched his trick or treat bag tight to his chest.

“No, I can’t. It will make my Mom really mad.” David insisted.

I had a strange feeling come over me which caused the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“David, come on let’s go home,” I said as I walked up behind David.

David continued to stare ahead, his eyes never leaving the river. As I was about to reach out and touch David’s shoulder I heard something that made my heart nearly stop. First it was the sound of something moving in the water and then an eerie hollow voice. The voice was clearly coming from the river. The voice was hoarse, muffled, yet loud enough for me to hear it. Whatever the owner of the voice was saying was nearly unintelligible, yet I could make out “Come in”.

I called to David again, yet he continued to stare aimlessly into the darkness, carrying on the conversation with whatever it was that was calling to him.

“No, I don’t want to come into the water,” David pleaded.

I reached out and grabbed David’s shoulder and shouted “David!”

David suddenly jerked. His eyes blinked and stared around as if he had just woken from a deep sleep. David stared up at me, wide eyed, and seemed to slowly realize who I was.

“Bennie…where’s my Mom?” David asked.

“Come on, I’ll take you to her. But we need to go now!” I said urging him to come with me.

As David got to his feet, the thing in the water spoke again. David turned and stared back at the water. “This is my friend Bennie…”

David turned to me. “My friend wants me to come into the water to play with him.”

I immediately grabbed David’s hand. “David you can’t go into the water. It’s not safe. Lets go home!” I pulled David with me.

The voice from the water spoke again. Its tone had changed from pleading to angered urgency. David turned his head back toward the river as the voice continued to speak.

I pulled David behind me and faced the river. I yelled, “Shut UP! Whatever you are! Shut Up!

The voice grew silent and I hurried David up the path. As we walked quickly up the path and out of the woods, both David and I were silent, until just before exiting the woods.

“Bennie, why was it bad that my friend wanted me to come into the water with him.”

“Whatever that was David wasn’t your friend, it would have hurt you.” I explained.

David stopped for a moment. The expression on this face told me that he was pondering what I had just told him. “He seemed nice, but he scared me. His eyes scared me.” David told me.

“You saw his eyes? What did they look like?” I asked.

David stared back into the woods and then to me. “They were just white like the chalk my teacher uses.”

A shiver went down my spine. As David and I walked out of the woods his mother came rushing up to him and hugged him close. I stared back into the woods knowing that whatever was in the water coaxing David to join it, was tired of being alone.

The wind howled through the hollow, and as we all walked to our homes. I wondered if it was watching us.


Bennie lives in Lexington, KY with his partner Matthew and their silky terrier Prissy. Bennie is currently pursuing his masters degree through Union Institute & University in Literature and Writing. Bennie hopes to teach literature and creative writing at the college level. Bennie is also working on his first novel.

You can keep up with Bennie on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bennie.blevins.18