Thursday, May 8, 2025

A Haunting On The Maine Coast


Mysterious Deaths Plague Maine Coast; Spectral Activity Or Serial Killer?

Portland, Maine (AP) It is a landscape with a rich history, tall tales, and dark superstitions, if you pay heed to the old timers sitting outside the small town general stores swapping stories. The coast of Maine has always been a place of the sea, of ghost stories and wild woodlands, of strange sightings and things that go bump in the night. As of late, that appears to be weighing heavily on the minds of people living along the Atlantic coast, where in the last two months, a mysterious series of unexplained deaths have been taking place.


Seventeen people have died in mysterious circumstances. Police have confirmed that in each case, while no physical injury has been inflicted on them- at least by another party- each have been found with an expression in death being one of sheer horror. "As if they'd seen a ghost," Captain George Allen of the Maine State Police said at the scene of the latest death, where a seventy eight year old woman had been found on a beach, having had fallen from a bluff below. "Her injuries appear to have been sustained in the fall, but her face was locked in terror."

She remains unnamed pending notification of family, but she was last seen the prior evening in the local town of Cabot Cove at a library board meeting before being found by a beach walker at dawn. 


In each case of the seventeen dead, all were known to be well liked in their communities. "Who would have wanted to hurt my dad?" teacher Cassandra Tupper said. Her father, Lyle Tupper, was an area doctor who was the first to be found dead, in a similar state, in his backyard in early March. Neighbours had heard an unearthly scream. When Tupper had been found moments later, he was seen to be alone, fallen on the ground, his face locked in horror. No one had been seen to leave the yard, or to enter it. At least not by living eyes. 

A doorbell camera across the street did capture something- but it only raised more questions. Police are tight lipped about it, but one source, speaking anonymously, said, "for a few seconds, this misty shape can be seen emerging from the side laneway, and then disappears off screen. I don't know about you, but I know ghosts when I see one."


A ghost of who, that is the question. Doctor Tupper was a resident of the small town of Cabot Cove. Son of the sheriff. Brother of another sheriff. A well liked doctor, affable and friendly. With not an enemy in the world. No one to speak ill of him in any way. A common thread with the other victims in these cases.

But Cabot Cove has a dark history. 

It was once the home of the world's most prolific serial killer. The murder mystery novelist Jessica Fletcher, who died in a Canadian prison in 2022 after being brought down by the world's crankiest lawman, exposed for having had committed thousands of murders over decades. 


Her final resting place is in Cabot Cove, alongside her late husband- who, ironically, was her first victim. She died on Hallowe'en night, 2022, in solitary confinement after killing another inmate sixty years younger than her. Stories that went around after her conviction indicated that of a deranged, psychopathic, remorseless monster who would speak of eating the heart of the very lawman who arrested her. Her loved ones were shocked by the allegations, the arrest, the conviction, and her ultimate end. Her home in Cabot Cove remains empty, despite being held on the market by her nephew Grady. Not even the bravest children dare to trespass, warning each other what might happen if they do. Stories are shared more and more of a spectral shade wandering the coast, late at night, of an unseen female voice with an English accent speaking about torture.


Local psychic Dru Blaise has her own perspective. "All of the people who have died. I believe they may have been on her to-do list. She knew everyone here. And we were all fooled by her. Is it possible that she meant to kill all of us over time? I don't know. But my dreams have been dark as of late. I see a malevolence in these parts, offering tea with arsenic and an English accent."

Sheriff Angus Tupper, who has spent years since the arrest of Cabot Cove's most famous and infamous resident trying to understand the depth of her depravity, had this to say. "Well, if anyone could claw their way back from hell, it would be her. Which, if you'd asked me twenty years ago, I wouldn't have said so. But I've read her journals, and she was into some serious dark ****. Now, the idea of her also doing in my brother? Where does it end?"


Grady Fletcher, the dimwitted nephew of the murderer, sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. I don't get it. She's dead. I'm still trying to accept that my sweet old aunt was this psychopathic monster. But people don't come back from the dead. Ghosts? They're not real. But all the same, I think we've got to play it safe and call in the Ghostbusters on this one."

When told that the Ghostbusters aren't real, Fletcher looked even more confused. "Are you sure?"

Whatever the truth is, residents of the coast, particularly of Cabot Cove, are looking over their shoulders a lot more these days. 


The last word belongs to the lawman who ended her reign of terror. Legendary Mountie Inspector Lars Ulrich was found at his detachment in the Alberta foothills by a group of real reporters. After being assured that the real reporters were well aware that he was not the Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich, the inspector appeared to be at ease. "Whatever is happening out there does sound odd. But it doesn't mean it's a ghost."

"Hypothetically, though, if her vengeful spirit clawed its way back from the dead. Should you be worried? She swore eternal revenge against you in particular," this reporter noted.

Ulrich shrugged. "Let me put it to you this way. I don't believe in ghosts. But if ghosts were real, then I wouldn't be scared of them." 

He paused. "But they should be terrified of me."


At this point, there was the sound of footsteps and a raised voice. "Lars! Lars!" The reporters turned, seeing a goofy looking fresh faced guy in an ill fitting suit, followed by a cameraman. The reporters backed off, well too familiar with what the Mountie did to entertainment reporters. "Bobby Burns, Lars, Entertainment Tonight. Good to meet you. Lars, what the whole world wants to know is, what's the truth about the rumours that Metallica is doing an album with Adele?"

Ulrich looked ready to throttle him. "I am not that Lars Ulrich."

Burns looked confused. "Are you sure?"

What happened next wasn't pretty. Ulrich threw one hard left handed punch, sending Burns crashing twenty meters away. And then Ulrich started chasing him, as the entertainment reporter fled. It ended with Burns in a body cast, whimpering over and over about his favourite drummer kicking the crap out of him.

Friday, May 2, 2025

The Case Of The Crypto Spammer

 


They are the worst of the worst. A vile, drooling, unscrupulous lot without morals or integrity. No, not politicians, but even worse. I speak, of course, of that horrid subspecies of humanity we call homo sapiens spammeritis irritatingus. Also known as the internet scammer and spammer, who send us random emails promising a get rich scheme, or spam our comments with the same sort of crap. The following came from one of their lot, who used a fake name, fake photo, and claimed to be an accountant.


As an accountant, I'm typically cautious with my finances. However, last year, I felt pressure to join the cryptocurrency market, fearing I'd miss out on potential gains. An Instagram ad for CBEX Trading caught my attention, with its professional website, real-time charts, and promising testimonials. A representative named Elena guided me through the platform, offering a $200 welcome bonus. Convinced by their promises, I invested $87,000 worth of Bitcoins.
But when CBEX's website crashed, and all communication channels were severed, I realized I had been scammed. Devastated and lost, I searched for ways to recover my funds. That's when I discovered Morphohack, a reputable crypto recovery service. Their expertise and track record gave me hope.

Morphohack's team worked diligently to track down my stolen bitcoins and successfully recovered it from the CBEX scam. I'm grateful for their exceptional service and expertise. Thanks to Morphohack, I was able to recover my losses. If you've fallen victim to a CBEX/PCEX Scam, I highly recommend Morphohack's services.


We've seen this crap before. This scam has several variations on the same story, as this halfwit responded to a previous post on cyber scams. He wants me to believe this story (I don't) of miraculously getting money back after losing a five figure sum in crypto-currency. Well, let's make at least one thing perfectly clear- crypto-currency is the sort of rabbit hole I would never go down. Not with the sort of dirtbags who endorse it. 


He weaves his little tale of how he, a cautious accountant, sunk all that money into crypto, only to have it go south on him. And then he touts this company with what he claims to be "reputable". This, despite the fact that the first company to come up with that name leads to a dead end online. So you'll excuse me if I'm not exactly confident of this nonsense in the first place. As well, I've seen it before. For a guy who claims to be an accountant (I doubt this very much), you're really, really stupid.


Nice try.

Honestly, man, what is it about finding a real job that's so hard for you? Why do you insist on being like this? Sending random comments with a fake story, or random emails, promising riches that will never be? This is not a productive use of your time. The vast majority of people see you for what you are.

But since you persist in this crap, let me just leave you with a warning.

Take it seriously. 

Friday, April 25, 2025

The Remake That No One Wanted

 

Director Announces New Spin On Old Story; Reporters Sigh In Dismay, Jack and Rose Fans Outraged

Los Angeles (AP) It is a truth universally acknowledged that an egomaniac director is in want of attention. So is the case once again this week when reporters were called to the production facilities of Digital Domain, one of the perpetual playgrounds of the director behind explosion prone spectacles like Armageddon, Pearl Harbor, and the Transformers franchise.

The one and only legend in his own mind, Michael Bay.


This reporter was sent to be part of the party (editor: yeah, sorry, but the readers love to read your gripes), which included some real reporters and a horde of entertainment reporters. The latter had not one brain cell circulating among them as they gathered in an auditorium at Digital Domain. A podium had been set up on stage, with a large standing mirror beside it. The entertainment reporters were buzzing. A spokeswoman came out on stage, calling for everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, let me present the greatest cinematic genius of our time, Mr. Michael Bay!!!!"


The entertainment reporters broke out into rapturous applause. The real reporters sighed and shook their heads. Out onto the stage strode Michael Bay, looking his usual self. The three days of stubble. The dishevelled hair. The casual look. He grinned like an idiot- his default setting- and walked towards the podium. He paused, winked at his reflection, and smiled some more (editor: he really is full of himself).

Finally he faced the audience. "Hi there! Great to see you. I know you're all wondering what I've called you here for, so let's not waste any time. I've been meaning to get back and do something by the way of historical drama. With explosions. So I am here to announce my next blockbuster film, which we're calling Curse Of The Titanic!"


A gasp went up from the real reporters, but was drowned out by the entertainment reporters. First, Titanic had been pretty much definitively done by director James Cameron, winning Oscars and unleashing a torrent of memes, particularly as time has gone on and one of its stars has shown an inability to date his own age (editor: Leonardo DiCaprio, we're looking at you). Second, who would entrust Michael Bay with the subject.

Bay carried on. "Now I know what you're thinking. This has been done before, and that's true. Which is why I'm not going to have the sinking of the ship be the heart and soul of this story. I'm going to feature it, yes, but early on, because that's not the story I want to tell."


This reporter checked his watch, wondering how long this nonsense might take. Bay continued. "No, it's been done. What I want to play around with is the idea of... what if the ship sank for other reasons? And what if the one person who should have stayed on board, if only for the sake of his own reputation, would be forever haunted. By the real reason for the sinking."

"What on earth is your angle?" this reporter asked (editor: is he on drugs?). 

"My angle is simple. That iceberg was sent to collide with the ship. Sent by a ship that was cursed to sail the seas until the end of time. A ship we all know as the Flying Dutchman."

The legend is an old one, a ghost story set at sea involving a cursed crew doomed to sail the seas forever. But of all the stories about Titanic, nowhere is there mention of a ghostly ship. 


"Are you out of your mind?" another reporter asked.

Bay shook his head. "No, why do people keep saying that? Now look, all I'm saying is that maybe, just maybe, a ship that was only seen by one person sent that iceberg into a collision course. And that one person spent the rest of his life haunted. So, ladies and gentlemen, playing my protagonist, Mr. Bruce Ismay, is the one and only Nicolas Cage!"


Cage came out on stage, looking plastered, carrying a half empty bottle of Scotch. "Hey there!" he called out, staggering his way over join Bay.

"Your protagonist is Bruce Ismay? The chairman of White Star? Forever after considered a coward for getting off Titanic? That Bruce Ismay?" this reporter challenged.

"Yes, but this is what happens to him afterwards," Bay reasoned. "This is the story of the man who glimpses the Dutchman, realizes that somehow it caused the sinking, and kind of loses his senses and goes into a lifeboat to escape. And spends the rest of his life haunted by that choice. Literally. Because did I mention this is also a horror movie?" This reporter sighed (editor: horror movie is being subjected to this nonsense).


Bay continued on. "And our boy Bruce is haunted. He spends the years after Titanic trying to rationalize one dumb decision without saying why he made that decision, being seen as a coward... and literally being haunted by that night. Because whether it's when he's asleep or when he's awake, he's not only haunted by the ghosts of the Titanic, he's also haunted by images of that cursed sailing ship. Until he has to come to terms with it once and for all. Which will, of course, involve explosions."

"What is it with you and explosions?" another reporter asked. "Is it some kind of kink for you?"

"Yes, but that's not important," Bay stated. "What is important is that people love my films, they love the story of the Titanic, they love ghost stories, and they're going to love this film. Coming soon to a theatre near you! As soon as I get all the other stuff I'm working on done. Because I've got a lot on my plate. Bye!"

With that, he departed, to the applause of the entertainment reporters, and to middle fingers from the real reporters (editor: he is an insufferable egomaniac). This reporter can't agree more with that.

Thursday, April 17, 2025

The Wrath Of An Easter Bunny

The Easter weekend is upon us, and I have an image blog for the occasion. Enjoy!