I am baffled at how grown %@* people can take the time to convince themselves about ludicrous things like ghosts and witchcraft. I used to believe in witches with 10 inch noses (and a hideous pimple at the end of it) on broomsticks (and a cat sitting securely on it) flying over the moon! But then again, I was about four years old!
I stopped believing in witches, together with Santa and the generous mouse that seemed to be interested in my teeth a long time ago. Right now, there is a higher chance of convincing me that 50 Cent is gay than a story about goblins and ghosts!
Where do I get this? Allow me to share a conversation I had with someone who assured me we live among ghosts. I don’t know if he was just trying to run me out of town or perhaps he mistook me for a five year old - should I be flattered or offended?
Anyway, this chap went on to tell me that not all ghosts are bad and that is why they live among us. Apparently they watch over us. Here’s the thing – and I am putting this as nicely as I can – I’d rather they watched over me from the sky and beyond regardless of how sweet they are. They have no business watching over me in my house!
Moving on to the witches, the ones these days do not have broomsticks or cats or hideous boils at the end of their nose. They just sit in shrines, puffing away at what I can only assume are dry leaves. They wear beads and have missing teeth. They usually ask their ‘clients’ to bring them strange things like blue chicken or mice with pink spots to ‘complete a ritual’.
I have never been to a shrine myself and therefore I am not sure if I can explain effectively how I know all this. What I do know, is that these so called witches are out to make a quick buck! Some poor chaps, who are not so blessed in the lower area (please figure it out), spend sacks of money on ‘witchy portions’ in a desperate attempt to match a Sudanese Dinka (I hear those ones are deadly)!
In the end, we are how we are and no witch is going to fix it – so spare me the horseshit and give the story to someone who cares – like a retarded animal. So determined this guy was to convince me about the power of witch doctors, he insisted he knew a guy whose wife went ‘voodoo’ on him – he woke up in the morning with something that looked like a penis on his forehead.
Since I am the biggest doubting Thomas, I told him to kindly take some pictures if a face to face meeting was too much to ask. I’ll need to see it to believe it... then laugh my head off!