Ghost hunting old-school style

First, a correction...that was an eight-pound kohlrabi in my last post. So if you're looking for an eight-pound rutabaga at the local grocery store, you may be shit out of luck.

Mike Birbiglia was hilarious, and I so enjoyed myself that I immediately bought tickets for another upcoming show: David Cross at the Riverside this Saturday. This has all the makings of a comedian bender, so it's a good thing future weekends will be reserved for weddings and other activities.

Such as having the snot scared out of me. Two weekends ago I heard a story about a haunted section of woods in southern Wisconsin, and since I am an avid Ghost Hunters fan, of course I want to go experience it myself to see if it's real.

There is a back service road in the southern Kettle Moraine Forest that is supposedly haunted. You drive down the road at night, park, kill the engine, shut off the lights, roll the windows down, and wait. Within minutes, you hear the voices and laughter of small children running through the woods. Soon, you also hear shuffling on the gravel road. The footsteps and laughter grow louder and louder until you have the strong sensation of being watched. But as your eyes grow used to the darkness, you see nothing but small puffs of dust kicking up from the gravel with every footstep.

Or something like that.

(Spooky Count Laugh: "Ah-ah-ah-ah-aaaahhh!")

True? Maybe. I know people who have gone there and will never return because they stained their skivvies just a wee bit. So, with our freewheeling attitude toward fear-based fluid leakage, my friend and I are thinking about doing it. Hey, if nothing else, it could be good blog fodder. Or we could try to sit on the haunted mausoleum in nearby Dartford Cemetery. (Supposedly a ghost pushes you off.) With Halloween approaching, I suspect this could be a popular spot with the local teen Ouija board / Light-as-a-feather-Stiff-as-a-board crowd. There could be a line..."You must be *this* tall to ride the mausoleum!" And souvenir tees and hats.

If we go, maybe we'll take some video and post something on YouTube. Because my life won't be complete until a pasty kid with a KFC stain on his shirt leaves a comment like, "this would have been more interesting if y'all girls got naked," or, "GGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" or "you two are stupid the video sucks. try not smoking a bunch of weed before you go."