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Maculate Conception!

Maculate Conception - 8/13/02
By Bel Garion
Published each Tuesday

Dear Bel,

For the past few days, I have been having trouble when I wake up in the morning. Let me begin by saying that I am a successful architect in my mid sixties and have never done any acid in my life. I wake to the alarm, press the SNOOZE button, and nudge my wife meaningfully so that she will go and prepare the morning's coffee. A moment passes. My wife, after cowering in the corner for the briefest of panicked moments makes a distressed noise. I reluctantly peer up into the middle of the room to see none other than the same floating white octopus that was there the previous morning, calmly surveying us with his red colored stare. The temperature in the room in unnaturally low and I always without exception turn to see if my wife's nipples are hard. I don't know why. Anyway, it takes a good fifteen to twenty minutes to shoo the annoying pest out of the house so that my wife and I can get ready for work. My question to you is this, how do I keep this thing from returning? The dog has run away and my wife... well she isn't happy.

Please help.


I responded to Emory and told him to expect the arrival of Jerome. Emory called me when Jerome arrived and said that he was reluctant to let a homeless man that appears to be susceptible to violent seizures into his home on account of all of the frothing at the mouth. I told him that it was ok. Jerome is a prophet. At that moment, out of some vague sense of divine style, Jerome kicked the dust off of his feet, gave Emory a meaningful look, and asked to be allowed to enter. Of course, it probably came out sounding something like, "MaitffIcumingoddammit?"

Emory sent his wife away for the night and put Jerome in some of his wife's nightclothes. As per my instructions, they were to sleep together. He asked Jerome why I did not go instead of him, Jerome didn't know. I know. I am not insane. I attempted to comfort Emory by telling him that some people, when they wake by alarm, are not finished dreaming when they do so. I was hoping that this was the case here.

Dreams come and go, but spirits who know you can see them tend to stick around and even bring friends. They would sleep in the same bed and ignore the ghost when it appeared. That was the new plan. In the beginning, I assumed the worst, but then I realized that it could not Possibly Be That Bad. I told Emory that this must be a ghost that read some H.P. Lovecraft while it was alive and has decided to have some fun with the mortals. Since he seemed to not be afraid of the thing, and his wife terrified, I suggested that Jerome could take his wife's place in bed for the night. This was so that Emory would not have to sleep at home alone with a ghost in the house, or have to make his own coffee in the morning. Emory seemed to appreciate the bit about the coffee but not the sleeping arrangement.

In the morning, the ghost was inexorably drawn to Jerome, who to his credit was not afraid. He was used to being possessed by now and almost quite likes the company, up until the ghost realizes that it cannot get out and gets nasty. In fact, while most people are gifted with the ability of keeping ghosts out, Jerome is very good at attracting them, and keeping them in. He cannot in fact, let them out himself. Which is why he hangs around with me, I think. I can get them out. Emory thanked Jerome, asked Jerome to thank me as well, and went to work. Jerome came back to the church and I extracted the spirit using two butch lesbians and some hot wax.


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