The idea that we have nothing better to do, after this mundane experience on Earth, but to show back up in ethereal form and fuck with terrified people just trying to go about their day is upsetting. If I died and the most interesting thing to do was to come back to Earth, I'd (re)kill myself.

The whole premise of a haunting is silly. How many guys do you think would be floating around Megan Fox's bathroom? You never hear about someone being stuck haunted by a ghost who just wants to have a good time or help out. Nobody ever complains about the ghost of Bob Marley crashing on a couch, or the deceased French maid who keeps doing all the laundry in the middle of the night.

If you believe your dead relatives are watching all your actions, do you still masturbate? If hauntings actually happen, it must be that only the real assholes of the world actually bother to come back and mess with people. Even if throwing pots and making noises is your only power as a ghost, you'd still be a dickbag for doing it. The rest are sulking about in the dark, moaning "Get ooouuuuuut!" as if they were a bunch of socially anxious Goth teenagers. I can't fathom the unholy amount of pretentiousness and false self-worth that must accompany someone who actually believes some passed soul feels the need to communicate with them. You're not interesting enough to keep a boyfriend around but you have no problem believing a 15th century Count has traveled across the Atlantic to hang out in your poorly-decorated basement?

Creepy guy haunting a couple in the bedroom

Here's how I imagine a realistic ghost scenario:

"So I had a really great time with you and everything Lisa… and I'd love to come up, but I gotta get home."

"Aww Mark, you always leave so early, just stay for a bit. Pleeaase…" 

"Sorry, Lisa. You see, I had this girlfriend… and she died."

"Oh I'm sorry, I had no idea. Is it too soon for you to date other people?"

"No, it isn't that… you see… she was really controlling. Like, REALLY controlling. A real bitch. After she got hit by that car and died… well, she came back."

"What?"

"Yeah, my ex started haunting me. Waits up all night, yells at me if I'm out too late. You can't sneak around or anything after she goes to bed. She doesn't sleep. Always just watching and waiting. God forbid I take a girl back to my place…. I understand if this is something you don't want to deal with."

I also never got why ghosts were really even scary to begin with.

"Mark I'm so stressed, I'll never get this project done by three!"

"What's wrong, Kate?"

"Well this guy, Ted, he died recently and has been haunting the copy room. I'm terrified to go in there."

"Ted? Ted from accounting? Ted was a bitch. Gimme that, I'll go make the copies."

If you believe your dead relatives are watching all your actions, do you still masturbate? It's just as likely your dead aunt would still be distracted watching Dancing with the Stars instead of your stupid community college art show anyway. What's worse, that means when we die we'll be forced to watch millions of moments and actions that we'd be powerless to control or stop. Watching your nephew lose his fortune to that retarded Nigerian refugee email scam? Scare the shit out of him by flickering some lights or throwing a pot like an asshole ghost–I'm sure he'll get the message. All that awkwardness of seeing our daughters fornicate with tattooed ruffians, and our sons search for "blonde ass sex hot" on Google?

Screw that. When I die, I'm gonna haunt the shit outta some Quiznos.

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