I'm fairly certain there's nothing haunting my house, save maybe the leftover Super Bowl cheese dip still in the fridge. But so far, its intentions seem friendly. You just have to ignore the constant paranoid screams from the tofu.
"It wants my soul!"
"Shut up, tofu."
It's not entirely uncommon for me to have these lively conversations with my food. I probably need a girlfriend. Or a hobby. Or years of therapy.
Fortunately, though, since the worst of my supernatural household concerns is confined to the lingering spirit of old Velveeta, I do sleep fairly well at night in the 2 square feet of bed space kindly allotted to me by my dog.
Quite simply, I respect the demon cheese. The demon cheese respects me. And my dog respects nobody.
Which is far better than what could have been said of two flatmates in London who recently sold an antique mirror on eBay because they were convinced it was haunted and willfully endangering their lives.
"I'm going to murder both of you. Probably tonight."
"But, Mirror, we saved you from the trash heap!"
According to their eBay listing, it all started when one of them saw that the building's landlord had put the old hallway mirror out on the lawn as rubbish. So, being resourceful, he retrieved it, added some silver paint and leaned it up against their wall above the radiator.
Soon after that, things supposedly got weird.
"We both experienced what I can only describe as intense sharp stabbing pains," the sellers wrote to prospective buyers. "They would strike us both at the same time."
The two flatmates also complained of waking up completely drained of energy, screaming in the early morning hours with horrible feelings of impending doom.
Though, to be fair, that kind of sounds like my typical weekday. Only with fewer tears and significantly less self-doubt.
Regardless, this is the point where one of them should have turned to the other and asked, "How about we just ... throw it away?"
But, that would be too logical. And, besides, the sudden emergence of blood was sort of interesting and new.
You see, in addition to growing increasingly sick and depressed from all the evil hauntings, one of the flatmates even claims to have woken up with deep body scratches, for which he blamed the mirror and kindly provided a link on eBay for photographic proof.
It's also entirely possible that he just has a pet cat. Or, perhaps, an amazing lover. Or both. (But not like that.)
Of course, any potential buyer would need to believe such humorous nonsense as haunting pains and bloody scratches in the night. They, presumably, would also require an itchy Paypal trigger finger.
The kind that leads you to bid on a used toilet brush at 3 in the morning.
Click. "Booya! Who's the wild man now?"
With the mirror, it was all about finding that absolutely perfect buyer, and the sellers noted that they "would ideally like it to go to somebody who has experience with the paranormal/supernatural and knows what they are getting themselves in for."
Amazingly, thanks to the powers of the interwebs, there was no shortage of interest. And for everyone's amusement, a few potential bidders began asking entirely reasonable questions of the sellers: