So we were renting this really cool place and I had the biggest bedroom, because of my good boy points. It did not have any windows but it did have carpet. Man I really miss that room. Now I live in this shithole.

   So I was like 11 at the time. I go into my dark room (no windows, remender?) and I see a spooky ghost lady dressed in white garb.  Me, being a rational, got out of there. Seeing my sisters, I told them of the predicament. They told me, no, no I did not. And I figured the matter was settled. 

  Later on, my very same sisters, told me, yeah this house is haunted. That they've been hearing this bitch ghost moan for a while. What do you want. Some little boy told them of the ghost, and we are supposed to be supportive about it? No. Fuck No!. We were freaked about it you scary ass movie cliche! Or something like that.
So we had to get an exorcist. All of this is true by the way.

I naturally hid, because I was more afraid of the catholic priest than of my new ghost bitch friend. I really had nothing to be afraid since I was not Dan Aykroyd, Though I would have totally taken a bj from a ghost. Look it up, He gets implied blown from a ghost in Ghostbusters. SeXual Assault is wakky!

So the priest was actually successful
   I mean, in getting rid of that pesky ghost. Should of tried to get my stepmother out of the picture, but that's another story.
   And there were no more ghost bitch noises,
      And I didn't have a cool ghost friend that occasionally blew me thus leading me to severe depression.