I freaked out last week.

I'll tell you why. 

You may remember the story I've told about my Carrie-sister and I as little girls, terrifying the neighbor kids with our macabre-filled imaginations, also known as: The Story of Wang and Chang. If you need reminding, go read it here. 

Don't worry. I'll wait.

All caught up? Good.

Now, last week, Brandon and I were watching a documentary on netflix about autopsies, and the story of a famed set of conjoined twins was shown.

Let me introduce you to Eng and Chang Bunker, who rose to fame in the mid 1800s, and actually coined the term "Siamese twins." They were joined together by a band of cartilage on their chests, and lived to the age of 63.

Here's where the story gets freaky, to me anyway. 

One morning, Eng woke to find that his brother, and other half, had passed away during the night. He followed soon after. Upon autopsy, it was found that while Chang had died of a blood clot, Eng had died of shock. He was literally frightened to death. 

When Eng woke, the shock and fear of seeing his brother dead next to him, killed him as well.

http://blueridgecountry.com/archive/favorites/a-hyphenated-life/

Guys, I had never heard this story before until last week. And yet, Carrie and I told it to our neighbors 20 years ago.  

Has your brain exploded yet? Cause mine sure did.

After watching the documentary, I immediately called Carrie, and she confirmed my feeling that she too thought we had made it up. I have distinct memories of coloring the walls of our clubhouse while imagining up this strange and morbid tale.

There are only two ways to explain this. 

1. Carrie and I must have heard the story on TV as kids and just don't remember. Although, if this were the case, wouldn't it be safe to assume that the rest of my family, our parents and older sisters, would have also heard of the story? None of them remember hearing any other version than the one we told in the backyard. 

Which leads me to explanation two:

2. Carrie and I are psychics and/or were visited by the ghosts of Eng and Chang Bunker. 

On another note, Halloween is coming up. I think I'll dress as myself at 7 years old. It's sure to scare the pants off of everyone.

Ramona

This weekend, we had a little birthday party for Margot in Bartlesville. While driving, we passed though Ramona, the creepiest town in America.

Just check out main street:

Sufficiently creeped?

No?

Listen to this.

On time, we drove through Ramona, and saw a dude in overalls and no shoes standing in the middle of the road playing a guitar, and I'm pretty sure he only had one eye and human blood in his beard.

Eeesh.

thump-thump-drag

Last night, Season 6 of Ghost Hunters premiered. I LOVE this show. Brandon and I have seen almost every episode, and I'm so excited that it's back on! I love Ghost Hunters because not only do they search cool haunted places for paranormal activity, they also search for any logical reason why they just heard that weird sound, or what could have actually caused that shadow (ice makers, and car headlights are very common). And I really love creepy stories.

I love to be deliciously scared. Like when you're 13, and your sister tells some creepy story on Halloween night about a cannibal who has no arms or legs, yet still manages to catch/murder young children, and you're so scared you can't sleep.

I love being freaked out like that.

coyote ugly

Tonight, while driving home, Brandon and I passed what I thought was simply a stray dog on the side of the highway. Brandon informed me that I was wrong. DEAD wrong.

It was a coyote. Really. A real coyote. It ran into the road. We saw it.

I almost peed myself, I was so scared. We were like a mile from our apartment complex, man! Those things are wild and vicious! What if one wandered into our quiet little parking lot one night to have a snack!

Brandon informed me again that I was wrong. Apparently, growing up in the country, he saw alot of coyotes, and they are terrified of humans and are not aggressive.

This is all I have to say on the matter:

GAH!! Not aggressive?!?

Oklahoma Chainsaw Massacre

A few nights ago, Brandon and I were driving to Bartlesville, to visit my Jeannine-sister. We took a short-cut through some country back-roads, and as we drove, I realized something about myself.

I am definitely a city girl. Being in the country at night made me so nervous. All I could think about are those retarded horror movies where the car breaks down near the creepy farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere, and the teenagers knock on the door to use the phone, and the inbred residents kidnap, torture, hack them up, and then eat them. Raw.

Brandon is the opposite. He grew up in Claremore, and he drove country roads all the time. They make him feel safe and secure.

I made him lock the doors as we were going 60 mph.

Later that night, we drove through north Tulsa, and I felt perfectly fine. Crazy? Maybe. But when we are driving through Romona, OK and we see some guy standing all by himself in the rain in the middle of the road, and he's missing an eye, I am NOT stopping to see if he can give us directions.