Hello good people of the Internet, oh how I've missed you so. As you might have guessed, the rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated, but it is true that I'm only writing every other week now. Why, you ask? Now that I have some more time on my hands I can afford to do some things for the community that I've been wanting to do for a while, like building homeless shelters, frolicking in the park with retarded puppies, volunteering at my local abortion clinic, and many other things. Thankfully Rich "Lowtax" Kyanka is a rational and understanding man, having no problem with me cutting back my time. I think the firebomb that incinerated my car and the bullets placed in my mailbox every morning is just his way of saying "Happy Halloween!". I know this will be a hard time for us, and that laughter may never be fully restored to its former glory, but I have faith that Corin Tucker's Stalker and Greasnin will generate a few chuckles or perhaps even a guffaw. Although the humor must be sacrificed for the greater good of mankind, know well that I am spending my time wisely, and not just masturbating in Jell-O.
Besides knitting mittens for hobos, and curing cancer in little children on my off weeks, I am also quite active in the investigation of paranormal activity. Ever since I was visited by the ghost of Calvin Coolidge while taking a bubble bath in 1984, my interest in the unexplained and arcane was piqued. That's why I used the power of the Internet to find other people in the Midwest that had similar interests in the supernatural, forming an elite ghost hunter's club to investigate haunted spots in our area. I was extremely pleased that our own Josh "Livestock" Boruff, who resides in Indiana, joined our ghost hunter's club. Apparently, he is visited nightly by the ghost of his pet rabbit, causing him to soil his sheets. The inability to have a night's rest without heavy tarps drove him to find answers to this unexplained phenomenon, and hopefully solve his dreadful curse. We also just admitted our first black member to our club after the courts unfairly labeled us a hate group just because of our "whites only" policy, and our penchant for burning crosses. We are proud to announce that our club has changed a lot over the last few months, focusing more on the paranormal, and less on terrorizing minorities. Armed with the latest ghost hunting technology, our club has visited the most haunted spots in the Midwest, uncovering many spooky secrets, and having a lot of fun doing it. Here are just some of the more interesting investigations we have completed.
The Haunted Mansion
History: Built in the 18th century, this decrepit old mansion has a terrible past that many feel has carried over to the present. Originally built and owned by the Eisly family, misfortune befell this household right from the start. Lord Eisly was married and had three little girls. Legend has it that on the first night staying at the new home, Lord Eisly ate a bad peanut and went insane, chopping up his family with an axe and then leaping from the roof to his death. The house remained abandoned for many years until the Johnson family arrived in 1958. They suffered terribly at the hands of bothersome ghosts that would steal bookmarks, making them lose the place where they last left off in a book. They would also keep turning on the lights, making the electricity bill soar. One day while making a Thanksgiving dinner, the ghosts ate all the stuffing, ruining the holidays. That was the last straw and the family fled the haunted mansion. It has been vacant ever since.
Midwest Internet Ghost Hunter Report: Since these seem to be extremely aggressive ghosts with a violent history, we took all the precautions necessary before going out on this investigation, making sure our instruments were fully calibrated and taking baths in holy water. We also brought some swords even though we know they are useless against ghosts, but we spent a lot of money on them at the Renaissance Festival and they look pretty cool. Our club arrived at the mansion shortly before midnight, lighting the foyer with our lanterns. Suddenly we heard a scary moaning sound and screamed, reaching for our trusty ghost swords. Josh shit his pants again. Just then our instruments started picking up high levels of electromagnetic energy in the direction of the study. We quickly ran to the area where we found nothing, but my cell phone mysteriously rang. It turned out to be my mom asking when I would be home and totally ruined the mood. So we took a few pictures and left since we were all really scared anyway. The strange thing is that I hit red lights the whole way home. I thought that it must be the angry sprits playing pranks on me since we disturbed their sleep. After looking at the pictures we took, we came across this really scary picture. It was not tampered with in any way. Scary!
Spook Factor: (An extra rating is added for having to endure Livestock’s stank drawers on the way home).
The Spooky Graveyard
History: Graveyards are always a good place to find restless spirits gallivanting in the night. This particular graveyard is rumored to be home to a host of spirits that must have really uncomfortable coffins because they won't stay down there. Many couples that park their cars near the graveyard to make out find themselves at the mercy of these ghoulish ghosts. One couple recalled hearing chains being rattled while they were making love in the back of a 1982 Buick. Nine months later, the female gave birth to a Puerto Rican baby, even though the father was not of Puerto Rican persuasion! Another tale of mystery comes from the caretaker of the graveyard. He described what sounded like mournful cries coming from the mausoleum. When he investigated the sounds, orbs of pure light shot out at him and danced in the sky. One turned into a demon and set fire to a hill nearby, while the other turned into a beautiful unicorn and bore him to the safety of the clouds. While the caretaker was also on five hits of acid, his claims have led to widespread interest in the paranormal investigation community.
Midwest Internet Ghost Hunter Report: We here at the club were really stoked about getting to the bottom of these queer occurrences. We suited up for the grand adventure by putting on our ghost proof long johns, donning our swords, and making Josh wear some adult diapers. We jumped in the Ghostmobile (Jetta), speeding off to find some spooks. Unfortunately, Mapquest screwed up the directions and we ended up in Gary, Indiana. I’ve never been to Gary myself, but it sure smells haunted. We stopped to ask directions from some festively dressed lads standing on the street corner, but our only reply was a rude volley of bullets into the Ghostmobile. Then we drove around for a few more hours looking for the graveyard but gave up and went to Denny’s instead. I ordered the “Moons Over My Hammy” and a large coke. We went home without any ghost evidence, but a little wiser and with full stomachs.
Spook Factor: (This investigation was rewarded a large rating because of Gary, Indiana, and the Denny’s waitresses.)
The Doom House
History: The tale of Reginald P. Linux was immortalized in the epic made-for-Internet movie, “Doom House”. The constant battle with a diabolical figurine and a disturbingly attractive terrorist almost left him a broken man. Through the power of lumber and a “can-do” additude, Reginald triumphed over the forces of evil. After the movie of his story became a smash success in the US as well as abroad, curious travelers from all over the globe visit the doom house, taking guided tours to relive their favorite parts of the film. Much like it’s predecessor, “The Exorcist”, Doom House created a renewed interest in the paranormal, making our cause more accepted, and bringing the truth just a little closer.
Midwest Internet Ghost Hunter Report: Reginald was kind enough to allow our ghost hunters club access to his humble home for an investigation. We wanted to try to find the strange figurine so we could record it’s EKG levels, and interview it on what it’s like being a cursed item. Unfortunately it turned out that the doll took the redeye flight to Vegas for a weekend of debauchery. Instead we just ordered a pizza and played NHL 94 for Sega Genesis. We really had a great time, and nabbed a full set of silverware from the Doom House to boot.
Spook Factor: (No doom recorded, although scoring a hat trick with Ray Shepherd warrants one ghost rating).
John Madden's Haunted Bus
History: As most football fans know, John Madden has a great fear of flying in airplanes, so he travels the country in a large conversion bus to the football game he is doing the commentary for. Lately, John has been complaining of strange sounds and smells, things going missing, and at night, an apparition of Voltaire speaks to him but he can’t understand because it’s in French. Thankfully he found our ad in the Yellow Pages. You know the one with a guy in a top hat hitting a ghost on the head with a hammer. He decided to give us a call.
Midwest Internet Ghost Hunter Report: This was our first big profile case, so we didn’t want to screw it up. Going by the books, we first greeted John Madden and interviewed him thoroughly. Unfortunately, John was in a strange state of mind, and just kept saying, “He put a little too much mustard on that one,” and, “Just get your hand up there and whap it down!” Clearly the stress of his ghost encounters was taking its toll. After checking all the ghost “hotspots”, we got the electronic and heat readings. We noticed a large amount of heat coming from the bus’s bathroom. Josh swung open the door and the stench of a thousand graves opening issued forth from the deepest pits of hell. We all gagged but stayed professional, shining a flashlight into the stinking abyss. Inside the toilet was the largest human produced piece of fecal matter ever recorded or heard about. It turns out that the strange sounds were the bus’s plumbing and axle groaning under the stress of such massive loads. As far as the items missing and the Voltaire visits, we concluded that Madden is batshit insane and has been since 1992. Case closed.
Spook Factor: (The elephant sized poo and Madden’s madness made this one spooky investigation).
Although these investigation reports may sound like ghost hunting is all fun and games, it's not. We take our investigations seriously and train for hours by watching archives of Scooby Doo and Alf. We take pride in the fact that we are paranormal investigators, and even bought some badges that we can sew on our velvet club jackets to look like a real team. If you are interested in joining the Midwest Internet Ghost Hunter's Club, please e-mail Ben "Greasnin" Platt with details of your experiences with the supernatural, and why you should be a member. I'm having you e-mail Ben because I'm going to be in Africa on my week off, hauling sacks of grain to hungry villages full of starving children and battling evil warlords with my trusty sidekick "Poncho". Have a Happy Halloween you knuckleheads!
State Og: From the Executive Producers of "Juwanna Mann"
Dennis "Corin Tucker's Stalker" Farrell reporting for duty. There are two lessons I've learned during my tenure at State Og: #1 - There is no problem that cannot be solved by fleeing to my underground vault and hiding indefinitely. #2 - Every company needs a good slogan. This week we ask you to select one for us, choosing from a list put together by our top marketing people. Among your choices are potential classics such as these:
The effects of our satellite-operated global pain ray are only temporary. Your love of State Og is forever. And mandatory.
According to science, State Og is incapable of flight. Science is a bastard and killed my father.
Those Just roll off your tongue, don't they? Check out this week's State Og, and be sure to wipe your feet on the way in.
Yes, it's the perfect form for surviving a car crash. But it's also the perfect form for so much more, like surviving the trauma of reading any news headline in 2016.
It's just a little confusing, is all.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.