Wednesday 3 October 2012

The House That Jack Cursed...

I went to make a brew at work and I noticed the anti-bacterial spray, as you do. In big letters it stated quite proudly that it kills 99.9% of germs. Why is this a good thing? There is still room for improvement, so I wouldn’t go shouting about it! Why can’t they make a spray that kills 100% of germs? With todays modern science is that not possible? That 0.01% could be lethal!!

Not that I live in fear of these germs. I generally don’t live in fear of anything. Apart from spiders! They are just plain scary! It isn’t the fact that I find them hideous or anything, it’s just when they move! I find it hard to control 2 legs, let alone 8 and they can pick up some speed! Shudder!

Jew Boy once chased me with a spider and I screamed like a girl. I screamed so loud in fact, that the chef in the kitchen of the pub where we were at came out with a large serving spoon thinking a murder was happening.

I tell a lie actually, I’m also scared of my house too! I think it was built on an Indian burial ground! As much as I love my house it hasn’t delivered me a lot of luck since I bought it. In fact, quite the opposite.

I have moved into that house twice now for various reasons. The first time was obviously when I bought it. The day of the move didn’t go so well though.

My Dad had come over to help, the font of all knowledge, apparently. He knows how to move, lock, stock! The thing is I hadn’t really packed anything up so most of the day was spent boxing things up – much to my Dad’s annoyance.

It took extra long because as you pack you find things, pictures, books, video’s etc. You sit there looking at the objects, reminiscing. I found all sorts that day, some of it adult – which I quickly hid and passed to a friend to look after for a while – some of it edible. I say edible, but by the time I found the pack of Club biscuits they had ceased being edible for at least a year.

It wouldn’t be the first time I have found food that was well past its sell by date. I remember a tin of spam that had a best before date of two years previous. I still ate it though. It was in a tin and I looked up on Google if it was ok or not (what did we do before the internet??). The general consensus was that spam will survive a nuclear holocaust as long as it’s in its tin.

Anyway back to the move. My Dad and I were lifting a big TV into the boot of my car. This TV was huge! Old school tube TV, heavy as hell too. The type of TV that wouldn’t look out of place on World’s Strongest Man – they could use the old TVs instead of those atlas stones. Me and my Dad laboured with this TV trying to get it in the boot as best as possible. My Dad as always exclaims that they don’t make them like they used to!

As we lowered the TV down into the boot it lurched forward, trapping my arm, but at same time making me lose my balance. One leg went one way and the other stayed behind causing it to bend at a funny angle, the knee cap sliding round the side of my leg. I yelped in pain, falling into the road, in doing so my knee cap popped back in to its rightful place. I lay in the road, acting as a speed bump for oncoming traffic, crying my eyes out.

My Dad looked down at me; he didn’t help me up, just told me to stop being a lazy get and to get back up. He does have a point though. I remember doing some labouring work for him when he was building a wall. It was a Saturday morning and I’d been out the night before. He asked me to bring the wheel barrow round the back. After 30 minutes or so he came looking for me to find me asleep in the wheel barrow. Suffice to say he never asked me to do a job with him again.

So I was lying in the road, in agony, clutching my knee. I was drip white from the pain shooting up my leg. My Dad turned to me after calling me soft and asked if I wanted a brew? And off he went to go put the kettle on. Ten minutes it took me to crawl in and no bugger had noticed me missing! AND I never got a brew!

So that day, when I first moved into that house I dislocated my knee.

Fast forward a few more years now and things have happened and a lot has changed in my life. The house is still mine but I no longer live in it – I have a tenant in. A tenant who wrecks my garden actually and it has never been the same again. I’m living elsewhere, but the tenant informs me they have decided to move out after 6 months and so I move back into my house again after not being there a year.

So moving day again!!

You would think I’d have learnt my lesson from last time, but sure enough, typical me, I left the boxing up until late. Along with a garage to empty that included a lot of crap and some massive, mutated spiders! These things would have dragged a small child off given the chance. How do they grow that big in the dark anyway?!

We loaded a van up and then filled my car and drove back to the house I was moving into once again.

The house is situated on a hill – I say hill, I mean a small mountain if I’m honest. In winter it is terrible. I remember taking my car down the road during winter thinking the snow had melted enough now. I was wrong. When I jammed on the brakes the car kept going and as a result I had a little accident. Not with the car, but with my underwear. Thankfully I managed to stop both the car and the bowel movements just enough to avert great danger and a large dry cleaning bill!

I wasn’t so lucky on moving day though – with the car, not the underwear. My Dad always states, always preaches, that you should put your car in gear on a hill just in case the handbrake slips. Advice I wish I had abided by.

My family always likes to give me advice y’know. When I was a teenager my Granddad told me to never waste a hard on! Wise words indeed!

As I was unloading the van I turned to see a silver car, similar to mine, driving past. What I thought was strange was that no one was driving and then I realised why… It was my car!! The hand brake had slipped and gravity did the rest.

It picked up speed and was heading downhill towards some parked cars. Luckily there was a garden wall in the way to stop it. Luckily eh! Meh! It smashed right into this garden wall and crumpled my car big time! It did bugger all to the wall mind you!! I can hear my Dad now "They don’t build walls or cars like they used to".

I sat on the street looking at my car with horror, tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. I was jinxed by the same house again!

My family stood motionless and watched as I curled up into the foetal position wanting to be swallowed up by the hole I was wallowing in, the hole of self pity.

A little old dear did come out and offer members of the family a cup of tea to help with the shock.

How does tea help by the way?

Again I didn’t get a brew, not even offered one this time. Instead the old dear came up to me and told me to make sure I put the ‘For Sale’ sign back up that used to be attached to the wall that my car was now embedded in. Charmed I’m sure.

I was only 3rd party fire and theft insured too. Just my luck!

I did manage to live in that house without great incident though after, for a little while at least. Well apart from some light bulbs that were uncovered and almost set fire to the loft insulation! Oh and the dryer over heating and almost setting fire to the clothes. And the boiler blowing out constantly due to a leak.

Then last week I heard a loud pop in the middle of the night and woke the next morning to a charred plug socket after the iPod charger had decided to blow up knocking all the electricity out. That house has it in for me.

So if I do not manage to write another blog or I go missing please check in on me. The house may have finally got me. The Indian curse put upon the land may have finally taken revenge on those that reside there. By that I mean me.

So just remember, fear is a state of mind but paranoia is not paranoia when the house is really out to get you!
 

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