Monthly Column

Total word count: 10,382 words.
Total read time: 41 minutes and 26 seconds.

This is the eighth entry in my monthly columns (which is not strcitly released on a monthly basis). Some of the subjects and questions were submitted to me via email (ashleyjones@icum.to) and my discussion board https://tubgurl.com/ashleyj/thread/29878.html. Please submit your questions, tip requests, suggestions, etc. via email with the subject line, "MONTHLY COLUMN", or in the thread linked about the monthly column.

In this column, I will discuss the following topics:
-Join me for a Halloween party on October 31st
-The deadly NES game
-Horrors in my inbox
-The Invisible Maniac Movie Review
-My killer fan
-My encounter with the supernatural
-Demons in "Dreams" Kill You for Asking This
-BABE OF THE MONTH - Linnea Quigley
-OBITUARY OF THE MONTH
-Fun Activity
-Recipe: Apple Cobbler

Join me for a party on Halloween

A Barry Scary Halloween is a new skit, semi based on true events. I would be honored if you spent your Halloween with me on my Cytube as I premier the video live. It's not like you have anything better to do. There's a livechat, no account needed, and you can add videos to the roster before the premier. The new video starts at 10 PM EST | 9pm CST | 8pm MST | 7pm PST.

After the video we will watch a b-movie together.

Go to the Cytube on October 31st at 10 PM EST | 9pm CST | 8pm MST | 7pm PST.

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The deadly NES game

I have a disturbing tale to tell. One that will leave your mouth agraped. No, the disturbing tale isn't about the fact that a California Raisins NES game exists. This tale involves murder. So how does a 1990 California Raisins game lead to murder?

I am a person of eqlectic tastes. As I said in my last (September 2025) column, prototypes are really interesting to me. You know what else is interesting to me? The California Raisins. I love the California Rasins and have some California Raisins toys in my room. My hubsand says walking into my room looks like you've walked into a down syndrome person's room in the 1980's. So when I found out that a California Raisins NES prototype exists, it's like the down syndome gods blessed me. I wasted away an hour -- but not playing the game. Instead, I was immersed in a disturbing story involving my favorite black-face raisins.

The California Raisins NES video game would be lost media if it weren't for one person: Brandon Murphy. Brandon was an avid video game enthusiest, especially when it came to Capcom video games. He frequented his local game store, Rhino Games (located in Florida). One day, Brandon would experience the kind of luck we all dream of. While at Rhino Games talking with his friend, when he overheard a woman trying to trade-in NES games for a new Xbox game for her son. However, the gamestore couldn't accept the video games she was trying to trade, because her video games were "homemade". Interested, Brandon asked the woman about her videos games.

It turned out that the games she had weren't homemade. They were straight from a game development studio that her friend had worked at years ago. Her friend gave her these video games because she had a son who enjoyed playing the NES, just like most other kids at the time. Now that her son was older, they wanted to get a modern console.

Upon looking at the NES games she had, Brandon realized that the carts had hand-written labels, unlike carts you'd see of typical NES games. Brandon recalls that this was a sign he was faced with a prototype of a game, "I left the store feeling pretty good and I remember reading in the collector corner in Tips & Tricks about proto carts… the handmade labels and what have you."

Even though there were a number of "handmade" carts he could pick from, he decided to only take the one labeled "Raisins", as "Raisins" had a "Return to Capcom" sticker on it. Since he was a Capcon collector, this cart stood out to him (even though he didn't have down syndome, like me). The woman didn't know what she had, and even though Brandon kindly informed her of the likely sizable pay-day she could get for these games, she let him have Raisins for free, simply because of the advice he had given her about the games she had. The only promise was that he wouldn't sell "Raisins" like a filthy scalper.

Even though Brandon knew he had a prototype, he didn't know how valuable "Raisins" truly was. He played the game, nothing stood out to him. He even saw mentions of it online, such as an article called, "10 worst video game ideas". This is when he learned "Raisins" was actually completely unreleased, which was strange, because the game played as if it were fully complete. Why would the holy grail of video gaming, such as THE 1990's California Raisins NES game, go completely unreleased? The answer is racism. Allegedly Capcom Japan forced Capcom USA to cancel it since Capcom Japan refused to publish games that weren't developed in Japan. Hey Japs, it's called CALIFORNIA RAISINS, not NIPPON RICE-SAN.

However, Brandon went on to detail these events online to those interested in NES games. He was even interviewed (see here, read after this column). Many fans were astonished that Brandon had THE sought-after California Raisins game. He even received generous offers for the game, some offers were even up to $3,000 for this piece of shit. (I would've happily offered all $300 of my disability check for the game.) Even with the ability to make some money, Brandon stayed true to his word and didn't sell the game like he had promised the dumb woman at the game store. With down syndrome fans showing persistant interest, he eventually released the rom for free, and Brandon is the sole reason we are able to play the unreleased, fully finished 1990 California Raisins game, "The Grape Escape".

It's interesting to learn about the journey this game has endured. Before the deadly prototype landed into the hands of Brandon, it was programmed by a single man. Well, maybe he had a girlfriend -- what I mean is that one person seemingly programmed this entire game by himself. Here is a quote from Robert Morgan, the man behind the raisins. "I programmed California Raisins in the summer of 1990. I was in college at the time, part-way through the Computer Science program at Cal Poly Pomona. After class, I would drive up the hill to Diamond Bar, to the home of Rod and Nancy Nakamoto.”

Nancy Nakamoto operated her business, Interactive Designs, out of her home. Nancy Nakamoto was responsible for making the graphics for the California Raisins, While Robert Morgan handled the work only a man can do -- programming. Funnily enough, Robert Morgan literally programmed games at Nancy's living room desk. He didn't have much infomation to work with when programming the game, saying "I remember development being slow since the tools felt particularly arcane – even for 1990. I also only had about four pages of documentation on the whole machine, so there was quite a guessing game."

You can read more about the development here.

Having a never-released prototype isn't very common for most video game collectors. If I had obtained such a unique game, I would definitely tell people about my luck, just as I've told anyone who will listen about the time someone dumped their trash into my trash can and I found some VHS tapes in my/this person's trash, and the VHS tapes still worked despite being covered in trash goo. This has hapened a few more times, except the trash has been actual trash rather than 1980's scratchers and VHS tapes. I've considered taping a picture of Jesus to my trash can so people think twice about dumping their Pabts Blue Ribbon cans into my trash. I've also laid out the idea of a communical trash can, where one can is private and the community can NOT snoop/donate to, and your other can is a "consent can", where the community is free to look through the can and donate any type of trash to it for others to look through. Keep in mind, this is all your can, not a can ran by the government. Speaking of this, I also have a lady who always stops by my can, opens it up and looks through my trash. I have no idea why she does this, but she has more balls than me, because I really want to look through trash in hopes of finding VHS tapes.

Anyways, Brandon was known to be an avid video game fan and collector. When you strike big, such as finding a 1990 copy of "Raisins", it seems as though people may see their own opportunity in your fortune -- turning your fortune into a misfortune. So when he got new roommates, they soon knew about his collection. His new roomates (a couple named Angus and Kara) decided to plot a murder with Brandon being the victim. Their goal was to kill him in order to take his Nintendo games and other items, sell them, and presumably "get rich". It's annoying that people wrongly assume that NES games are automatically worth a lot of money, simply because the games are old. These games were produced in the thousands. They aren't rare. Even "raisins" lost its value after he created the rom. At most, this guy's collection was probably ~1,000, tops. These people would've had better luck stealing and selling microwaves or even lawn chairs. Those things have more every day value to resell than some 1990 video game with a handwritten label on it that just says "raisins". But, regardless, these people let greed take the life of their roommate, Brandon. They shot him, stole his posessions and debit card, and light him and his apartment on fire. The roommates were caught shortly after, as they were using his debit card at Walmart, which had been captured on CCTV. Ah yes, living the high life. After a murder, nothing says "celebrate" like buying bologna and mountain dew from Walmart.

I suppose the moral of the story is to deeply inform those around you that your posessions are fairly worthless. I've been known to enjoy collecting Beanie Babies. It's VERY IMPORTANT to know that Beanie Babies are worth at most, $8. There's a big misconception that Beanie Babies are worth big money. I remember watching a video of a female appraiser handle a regular beanie baby while wearing gloves and continuing to spew this FAKE NEWS that they are worth a lot of money. Just because someone lists a Beanie Baby for $18,385 on eBay does not mean it's worth that much. Anyone can list anything on eBay (except for used underwear -- they don't let you sell used underwear on there, which is a shame because I like my underwear "worn in" before I wear it. So now I have my husband wear my underwear for a few weeks before I wear them). The only Beanie Babies that have some value are the first few generations of Beanie Babies -- and even with that in mind, those Beanie Babies are worth $200 at most.

This is why it pays off to be an honorary downie with retarded interests. Good luck charging $700 for a 1983 stained Twinkie plush (gently used). Apparently my interests are so terrible, I find them in the trash.

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Horrors in my inbox

I don't get a lot of emails. More like a steady trickle (of diarrhea). 70% of the emails I get are about one or all of the following topics: - People asking if my site is "real"
- Unsolicited advice about why I need to stop being a vegetarian
- Men interested in my hole (e.g. marriage proposals)
However, sometimes, I get emails that can only be described as nightmare fuel. Right now, as you read this, I suspect you're currently in a relatively pure state of mind. That's about to be absolutely and unfortunately tainted forever by the confession I was emailed just a few days ago. What you are about to read will ruin your day.

Disclaimer: I asked and received permission from this person to share this email in my monthly column. I never share emails without permission.

Unfortunately, I'm 100% certain that a good portion of my audience got a boner reading that email. Why was I the person that this guy felt compelled to tell about this? And why couldn't he have given me that $3,000 instead of wasting it away on depressing estrogen-filled Second Life orgasms? The California Raisin murderer couple should've taken out this guy instead -- bigger payday *AND* you would inherit his awesome skirt and buttplug collection.

Recently I have been feeling creeped out by the extent of extreme fetishes people have. People I could be standing next to in the grocery store could have the most depraved mind, and I am none the wiser. I prefer to isolate myself from society because I feel like more and more freaks are being created. I want no part of it, I don't want to be shopping for my lettuce as your gay boyfriend is secretly vibrating your bluetooth buttplug as you're standing next to me. These days, it seems like there are people who live a lifestyle around a fetish, rather than keeping the fetish shamefully burried in the recesses of the mind where it belongs.

Sexually deranged people (such as the guy who emailed me) are mostly formed due to the internet. These types have always existed, but now they're generating at warp speed. You have an echochamber to encourage quite literally any depraved thing you could think of. There's a "community" to support and encourage any stupid self-destructive behavior that will ruin your life. You'll notice that these fetishes aren't about something actually "feeling good" either. It's all mental, thoughts, and these fetishes ultimately revolve around wanting control OR being controlled. The actual act of sexual stimulation is second (or non-existant), and it's actually some sick mental gymnastics that makes them feel stimulated. It's definitely a mental illness, and this isn't me being an "edge lord", it's just fact. Anorexic women starve themselves because it's a form of bodily control and self harm. "Snowflake" people tattoo, dye, and pierce themselves as another method of bodily control and self harm. Likewise, gay pedophiles anally ruin themselves as bodily control* and self harm. We're in a point in our society where so many of our basic needs are met, that we have time to endlessly naval-gaze (or anal-gaze). The internet not only allows this to occur, but it also encourages further depraved thinking by offering the ability to contact more mentally-depraved beings to discuss and encourage further mental or physical harm.

*Is it "bodily control" if you lose control of your bowels?

I have figured out the formula as to why there are so many sexually depraved men (women don't enjoy sex so they can't be written about). Men have the primal urge to want to improve upon any basic task. Men are the primary reason for innovation and they hold the desire for efficiency. In primal settings, you can take examples such as "the wheel", making arrowheads, and eventually improving these things that are more efficient (guns, bombs). You can see this innate desire for obsessive improvement manifest in modern times with things like speedrunning, which is a very male-centric interest. Men also have a desire for hunting-and-gathering, which is why men enjoy creating guilds and fighting together in MMOs. As long as the guy isn't poopsocking for days on end, I don't think these things are that bad. However, these primal male tendancies *also* carry over to other aspects. I think the reason we see such intense tranny-ism and extreme gay sexual fetishes is because these men have that built-in male urge to "improve their craft", and get more sucked into the tranny rabbit hole. (Did "rabbit hole" turn you on, you degenerate?) I know my point may sound a little insane, but I think you pair a male's natural intense sexual desires + a males natural desire to contantly "innovate" + the desire to "hunt and gather" with other males + the internet, and you will get a sexually degenerate gay guy who spends all of his free time depraving himself more and more each day, with the encouragement of other males. That's why male trannyism is always sexual, while female trannyism is emotion based.

I really don't use the internet for that much aside for learning things or sometimes researching my interests (e.g. 1980's plush toys, VCRs, etc.). So I feel fairly "disconnected" from what happens on the internet until I'm presented with it, such as when I get an email like this one. I tend to forget how a large majority of people use the internet -- it's a goon machine.

I've been seeing this idea that the government should "ban porn". The government should never be your answer. You're looking to a corrupt entity who is happy to ban anything and everything for a reason that benefits the government -- not you. So while the government may happily "ban porn", what will they ban next? It's a short-sighted and harmful narrative to encourage. It's also weak. As a man, you shouldn't rely on a entity formed up by mostly angry black women to protect your family. Instead, the solution for this starts in the family unit. Watch your kids, and don't give them unrestricted access to the internet. Talk to your kids about healthy relationships, about healthy romance, and set a good example for what a male's role is and what a female's role is. It's very evident that the tranny obsession is formed by lost males who had no (or a weak) father figure. When you grow up with loose or no strong convictions about what a male figure is, these days you start immediately shoving buttplugs up your hole. Those convictions aren't the only thing that's loose.

Bullying and shaming is actually healthy for a society -- these fetishes are a result of when we don't shame people for their stupid ideas. When I was 7, I wanted to be a baby again because I felt like I didn't get that much attention at age seven compared to when I was a baby. So I prayed to god to make me a baby again. Thankfully God doesn't answer all of our prayers. Effectively, god was shaming me for wanting to shit myself just so my parents would pay attention to me more. If I had found the ABDL 'community' I'd be eating gerber mash and shitting into my oversized diapers to this day.

Also, WHY DOES THIS GUY THINK I WANT TO TURN YOUNG BOYS INTO "GAY HOLES"? I had previously talked about the time I encountered a secret cross dresser online who was IN HIS TWENTIES and already a lost cause. I got him to send me a picture of a vibrator in his butt because I thought it was hilarious (NOT SEXUAL), and I proceeded to go on AliExpress and have a poor, poor Chinese man print out that picture onto a canvas for $14.99. I also bought a soundboard that I loaded up with .mp3s of this crossdresser saying "yes mistress" and other hilarious gay things. I displayed the framed canvas poster with the soundboard underneath it, so you could have a fun, interactive experience with this ART PIECE. I titled it, "The Canvass". It was an art piece that I've since removed (years ago), because I actually started using the picture as a bookmark. No, I'm not joking. As you can see, my brief experience with a crossdresser was:
-A. NOT SEXUAL (IT WAS FUNNY AND ART)
-B. NOT FORCED (HE WAS ALREADY GAY AND I DIDN'T TELL HIM TO BECOME GAY OR CROSSDRESS)
-C. NOT AT ALL A BOY (HE WAS MY SAME AGE AND WE WERE IN OUR TWENTIES)
Therefore, I think the emailer had a case of "wishful thinking" in assuming that I would in anyway like the idea of making a young boy gay. Children are 100% absoloutley NOT appealing to me sexually, at all. PEDOPHILES -- PLEASE STOP EMAILING ME. I HAVE RECEIVED AT LEAST THREE EMAILS FROM PEDOPHILES ASKING ME IF I ENJOY "HURTING KIDS" SEXUALLY OR ASKING IF I LIKE KIDS SEXUALLY. I DON'T. WHY DO THEY EMAIL ME THINGS LIKE THIS? WHY DO GAYS AND PEDOPHILES EMAIL ME? PLEASE STOP. DO NOT EMAIL ME IF YOU ARE GAY. DO NOT EMAIL ME IF YOU ARE TRANSGENDER. DO NOT EMAIL ME IF YOU ARE A PEDOPHILE. SO WHAT I'M SAYING IS, BRUCE JENNER CANNOT EMAIL ME.

Now here are some of my favorite quotes from this email.

-permanently buttfucked
PERMANENTLY? I thought buttfucking was temporary. Do you get breaks to poop? If yes, then the buttfucking isn't truly "permanent". If you like getting permanently buttfucked, then you might enjoy becoming a US citizen.

-I loved to watch him cum and squirt
This is redundant phrasing. It's like saying, "mommy look I just pooped and shitted :DDD"

-getting assfucked all over the place like on a rampage
This one makes me laugh out loud, I picture a train, sorta like a mamba line, but filled with trannies butt-banging each other, and theyre all moving as one big train towards a destination.

-have them turned into sissy - sluts or just stay gay holes
It almost sounds dehumanizing -- like this guy only classifies people based on their sissy or gay hole status. I guess if I had to pick, I'd be a gay hole. Being a sissy admits weakness, but we ALL have holes, so being a gay hole is less bad.

-I would love to talk to you about a possible life as an underage anal princess
The phrase "underage anal princess" made me wonder: why is "underage" the phrase used to refer to only sexual acts? Why can't we say "underage chess champion". Then it immediately sounds sexual.

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Movie Review - The Invisible Maniac This is one of the best movies I have watched. It covers all the bases -- babes, nudity, thrilling scenes that leave you on the edge of your futon, scenes that make you laugh, and impressive physical stunts. Movies like this one are hidden gems that honestly blow garbage like Schindler's List out of the water. The movie starts out with the protaginist, Kevin, as a child. He's spying on a neighbor girl (well, woman) undressing. Nudity within the first minute of a movie is a promise from the director. It's saying, "there will definitely be more nudity in the movie". Kevin's ugly bitchy mom catches him spying, he gets in trouble and humiliated by her. The movie then fast forwards to a grown-up Kevin at some sort of science convention with his colleuges, where he tries to show them an invisiblity potion he created. Except, the potion doesn't work. Once again, he relieves total humiliation as his colleuges laugh and taunt him. In a fit of rage, he murders his colleuges. Kevin gets sent to a mental institution... until he escapes. From here on out, we witness the maniac. Kevin becomes dead-set on creating his invisibility potion. As he works on creating his potion, he manages to get a job as a summer school physics teacher. This is where the "director's promise" comes to fruition. Lots. of. bazongas. There are tons of shower scenes of the cheerleaders that do not dissapoint, each girl is pretty great looking but saldy, no full frontal. Just boobs and butts, but I won't complain. It's not like I need a gynocologist's perspective to be satisfied. In an effort to not spoil the movie, I will not detail much of what happens. But I want to highlight that there is obviously some "invisibiliy" powers that take place in this movie. There are invisibility fight scenes in this movie that are really impressive. Essentially, the actor is being beaten up by an insivible person. It takes some skill to move and act like you're being beaten up by somebody who isn't there. The director of this movie did the fight scenes in a really clever way. If you watch the movie, I think the "lunch scene" was really funny and impressive with the invisibility. The further the movie goes on, the more tense and suspensful each scene is. You're almost not sure who to root for, and the ending is truly the definition of suspensful, thrilling, and even funny. I think some of my gay pedophile audience should watch this movie, maybe 1980's b-movies are the true conversion therapy. Also, I was definitely interested in the rape recorder he was using in this movie. Oops, just realized I made a typo, but I'm not going to fix it. The rape is staying. Anyways, after looking for under 30 minutes, I found the tape recorder he uses. It's a Panasonic 2309A. You can see in the movie that they scribbled over the Panasonic logo with a sharpie, and even added a pretend "i" in the name to make it look like something differnet. They also added a pretend torn-off sticker where the tape is. The only reason I could think of for doing this, is to hide the tape. That way, you can't tell if he's actually recording or not. Maybe the producers were concerned about inconsistencies with how much tape was used in each tape recorder scene. Well, this rape recorder isn't the only rape that happens in this movie. Just kidding, there's no rape sadly. I rate this movie 5 out of 5 Adam Lanzas. out of

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My killer fan

Apart from gays and pedophiles, apparently I also attract murderers as fans. I remember being in high school and seeing my classmates wear Burzum shirts, and I would smirk. While they were fans of Varg Vikernes, Varg Vikernes was a fine of mine. Aside from occasionally talking to a very unconvincing Michael Jackson impersonator, this is the only celebrity tale I have to tell.

For those unaware, Varg is a very prominent and influencial musician when it comes to metal music. He was a member in the most famous black metal band, Mayhem, as well as being the only member of his band, Burzum (which is equally as well known as Mayhem). In fact, his involvement with Mayhem is what would lead to him becoming a convicted killer. To keep a long story short, Varg bye-bye'd his annoying bandmate, burned down a few churches, and years later, watched videos of me pretending to be a school shooter on Youtube. I voluntarily left out the part where he impreginated his wife multiple, multiple times. It hurts too much to think about. But then again, I was 15 when he saw my videos, so if things went my way, I would've landed him in prison again. :D :[

He's so handsome. I'd tug on that mane. I'd make him neigh.

Plus, being with a murderer would make you feel safe. You're fully aware that he's "capable" and therefore, willing to protect you at ALL costs. I don't have a "thing" for murderers. Varg just happens to have murdered. But, I think the reason women become obsessed with murderes is because on a primal level, a murderer has shown that he is capable of protecting; and as a weak defenseless stupid woman, you need a man "capable". By the way -- why are fat ugly women obsessed with "true crime"? You want to know what's a true crime? Standing on that poor scale every morning. It's not made to weigh live stock, lady.

Anyways. I wonder which video of mine Varg had seen that made him think, "I want to see more. Sure, I'll subscribe."

Was it the video where I pretend to have an abortion by dropping a piece of ham between my legs, which lands on the floor (and then eat)? Or maybe it was the video where I tongue kissed my life sized Ron Paul cardboard cutout. Or possibly, it was a fan-favorite; a video where I'm a Jewish store owner that plays "foreskin balloon darts".

Either way, I'm honored and greatly embarassed that Varg has seen my videos. I tried for an hour to search for proof that he was subscribed to me, but sadly the Wayback Machine on archive.org didn't have a snapshot of his Youtube subscriptions in ~2014-2015, which was when I had my Youtube channel. I know there is a screenshot of this somewhere, but I couldn't find it. So instead I will just show you this picture:

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My encounter with the supernatural

Ghost stories are like the holocaust -- some people swear it's real, but nobody really knows for sure because all of the proof is easily refutable. Let me dissapoint you with yet another story I have no proof for, but I swear is real.

I was 11 years young when I was in my living room playing a video game. I was pretty glued to the TV and wasn't paying attention to anything else happening around me. I heard my cat about 7 feet (2 meters) behind me meowing. My cat meowed a lot, but this time he wasn't shutting up and his meows sounded a bit different than what I'm used to hearing -- a bit more panicked than usual. As I turned around to see what he was meowing at, I saw this very bright white circular orb floating about 8 feet in the air. It had a slight hovering up and down floating motion. My cat was directly under the orb, looking straight up at it and meowing like crazy. I was instantly fightened by it and ran into my room and closed the door.

This is similar to what I saw, except I didn't see any strings of light coming off of the ball.

The orb didn't follow me. I was afraid it was going to. I didn't sense any threat, danger, love, or any emotion from the orb. Some people can sense intention from a ghost, orb, entity, but I simply saw the orb and had no other information beyond seeing it. I had no mmajor life event happen around this time, so I didn't suspect it was a dead relative or anything like that. I don't think it was a ghost either, because to my understanding, ghosts don't appear as orbs. I think it may have been some spirit, but I'm not sure what type of spirit. To this day, I don't have any theories as to what it was that I saw. After I saw the orb, I tried looking online for answers. As per the usual, I only came across SCIENCE!!11!11 Niel-Degrass-Tyson type answers, which are always very stupid and dismissive of anything that isn't mainstream science. The explination I saw was "ball lightning", which would make no sense since it was a floating orb inside of my house that had to be visible for at least 10 seconds on a day when it wasn't storming.

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Demons in "Dreams" Kill You for Asking This

What I'm about to write about is tulpa-level drivel. I'm not trying to "argue" anything here. If you aren't open to the idea that there is more beyond our material world, then don't bother reading this. It isn't for you. Go play Fortnite and obsess over which e-boy Nick Fuentes is having sex with this week. You're not ready for the truth and I don't want to hear your STUPID rationalizations as to why you think I'm wrong. I'm so tired of the majorify of people thinking that the material word is the true, actual world. It's very obvious to me that there's more beyond the physical world, especially when I discover strange phenomenons such as this one.

It all started out with me going on Invidious (a privacy frontend for Youtube). Since I have non-verbal low-functioning autism, I wanted to catch up on the recent Lost Media. I like lost media stuff, partly because I have an interest in archiving, and partly because I get obsessive about trying to find minute details about very specific topics I like. Sometimes this leads into obsessions, like the time I creeped out my 40-year-old actually autsitic Youtube waifu. Anyways, instead of doing my check-in for lost media, I discovered this video called "The Scary Signs Iceberg", where this person talks about the scariest signs that exist. I'm easily scared, so I knew it was a bad idea to watch the scary signs video, but I watched some of it anyways. After watching only about one-third of the video, I somehow started searching the internet for other creepy topics. I like looking into "glitch in the matrix" happenings, where people talk about events that defy reality.

Recently I have been wondering if dreams are more than just figments of the imagination. There are countless reports of people having premonitions in dreams. Essentially they will dream of an event that later comes true. These premonitions can be very mundane, or they can involve tragic, famous events. For example, one very famous account of a dream preminition is from J. Connon Middleton; whom had a ticket for the Titanic. Just a few days before departure, he had a dream that the Titanic started to sink, with people in the water struggling. This was unnerving enough for him to cancel a ticket -- a decision that likely saved his life.

When you start to consider the strange nature of dream preminitions, it's clear that dreams are more than just "random neurons in your brain firing off". In my dreams, I have consistency and memories of events, places, and objects that I have no memory of in my physical Earth life. There are too many strange "coincidences" surrounding dreams. After going down one of my many "glitch in the matrix" rabbit holes, I've discovered yet another strange phenonenom that has me not-so-excited to dream every night.

According to hundreds of writings I've read online, there is one question you shouldn't ask in your dreams."

What time is it?

Those who become lucid enough in their dreams to realize that they are dreaming will naturally interact with the other "characters" in the dream. In most cases, these dream characters are people who act friendly. They can be family members, friends, or strangers. Nothing totally out of the ordinary happens in dreams, in so far as "dream logic" goes. However, when the dreamer asks the question, "what time is it" to a person in their dream, the results are hellish.

Here are some of the results people have had from asking the time/date during a lucid dream. The following are excerpt I found in various R*ddit threads:

Eyes turn black and hallow:

I was dreaming that I was at a restaurant in an alley of sorts. I asked the waiter what time is it. His face changed from that of a man of around 50+ to a long character greyish skin. His mouth was like blurred out and his eyes morphed to dark evil looking eyes. He was definitely angry.

I was with two people I knew in my dream so I asked them the time. immediately their expressions changed into some sort of devilish anger and it went black, then I woke up to the two of them shaking me and asking if I was all right but there was no emotion behind their eyes and they were acting like they were possessed or something.

I asked the guy 'have you got the time and the date?' The guy turns around and I just see two huge black empty eye sockets and an enormous elongated mouth before he starts screeching into my face... I think to myself, 'now would be a good time to wake up!' Instantly my eyes open and I'm in bed in a state of sleep paralysis with pins and needles running throughout my entire body, unable to move for around 3 to 4 seconds.

-> That’s exactly what happened to me! The eyes and elongated mouth, everything turned grey and dark, I woke up unable to move with needles all over my body!

->I have this sometimes too. I wake up and I’m in my real house next to my bed but everything is harsh black and white. No color and not much gray. And if I look out the windows there’s like fuzzy tv interference in the air falling like rain even if it’s not raining. And light bulbs give off a haunted kind of light. And when I walk around the house, that’s when I encounter the people with the hollow eyes and gaping mouths. They are not in the bedroom or upstairs hallway (at least not yet) but they can be in the master bath or bottom of the stairs. I become overwhelmed with terror. I’ll try to scream but what comes out is more like a gasping whimper, or muted screech. And the hollow people either try to pull me or come rushing at me.

I had something similar. The person shifted into this creature with the same type of face, got angry, and said, "That’s enough for you! Get the hell out!" It pushed it’s hand toward my face and I woke up.

I suddenly thought try the date/time question, so asked the woman 'what's the time?' she went from smiling to suddenly a very straight face and her eyes went into grey/black big holes. I noticed everyone around me in the garden, their eyes had done the same. I was scared and it didn't feel a comfortable situation to be in. I woke myself up at this point quickly.

Editor's note:There are other instances where the "character" turns into a different being. I've read accounts where the "character" exploads into a bunch of eyeballs.

I saw a man walking down the street so I ran up to him and asked the same questions. He started screaming at me saying "you don't know what you're talking about bitch! This is a time capsule bitch!" And he turned into a gross looking alien like creature.

I asked a long term friend in a lucid dream what time it was. She got angry, I asked again. She morphed into this tall, slender, pale being and I felt extremely uneasy. I then woke up. The being looked human but there was an element of uncanny valley, something wasn’t right

I asked what the date was to a group of people I was walking down the street with. Their features went from normal to blacked out eyes that spread down their face, at the same time all their skin dehydrated and they just stared at me and I woke up.

Discouragement:
I've read many encounters where the "characters" discourage the dreamer from asking this question.

I proceeded to ask her what the time and date was, she got mad and instantly said shut the fuck up, then I was like why, what’s the time and date? And she was like shut the fuck up before (either god, he, or I; can’t remember who she said) kills you

I asked her "what is the date and time" she looked and me shocked and confused and ran away yelling "youuuuuuu" I followed her to her boss and she asked the woman "I don’t know what this person is asking me" and she made me repeat it to her, so I asked again the date and time. The woman looked at me shocked for one second and refused to look at me again. She whispered really quite a number but I couldn’t hear, so I asked her repeat it again. "She yelled out, 91105! And continued to look away.

As soon as I asked the both of them looked to me deadpan as this bald man walked up to us and said "I don’t know, but you don’t belong here" and I got transported out of the dream, like those effects in shows when someone wakes up from a dream sequence.

I suddenly looked at a mother and daughter walking close to me and asked for the date and time. Everything went dark. They put their heads down and looked up at me with only their eyes. It is terrifying seeing the bottom whites of other people's eyes that way. Looking up at me, they started yelling "why are you asking that, stop asking that", while moving closer to me in a zombified manner. Everything went black and then I woke up.

Suddenly I knew I was waking up and started saying to myself, "What time is it what time is it what time is it" but I was halfway awake, lying next to my husband. All of s sudden everything goes black and I hear a demonic voice scream at me "GET OUT" and now I feel a loud WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH almost like I'm being dunked in and out of water. I'm terrified. I'm laying next to my husband but I can't move. I am trying desperately too move any part of my body because I'm so scared. All I feel is my body as if I were having a seizure and finally can break free to reach out to him, hitting him in the chest. We both woke up in a frenzy. I have never experienced sleep paralysis. How fucking scary.

I asked what time it was to a seemingly nice old man walking by. Light turned to dark. He turned into a tall, thin, long white haired all man and screamed at me “don’t ask me that” it felt like I got push back into my body and woke up. It was very creepy.

I was sitting criss-cross applesauce in a classroom in a big circle wither probably close to 20-30 other people. I didn’t recognize any of them. I turned to the guy to my right and asked "what time is it?" He then got hostile and narrowed his eyes creepily and said "you’re not supposed to ask that" and then everyone hung me up in the middle of the circle like a piñata whacking me. then the dream ended.

I asked a guy at a taco stand what day it was for the special. HOLY FUCK. This man grabbed my shoulder hard and gave me a death stare, saying I don't belong here. I then went into a whole sleep paralysis where I though I was awake in my bed, could hear my sleep music and everything. I felt a hand on me then I tried to get up but couldn't. Then a whole body was crawling up me. Literally tried fighting for me life. Finally woke up.

I just did this last night 3 different times in my dream and the response was "you can’t ask that".

I run into two toddler girls on tricycles. I’ve asked them what date and time was, the bigger girl with blond curled hair told me very loud and very strictly: IT IS FORBIDDEN!!! Don’t know why but I’ve started to laugh, I asked again, she kept screaming at me it’s forbidden again and again, her voice like thunder, her eyes glaring, which was coming crazy from a cute little girl. I couldn’t stand anymore, my legs suddenly weak, I succumb to the floor, feeling hard surface of the carpet with my shoulder. My point of view shifted and now I saw a man in a black coat and a hat pointing something resembling a handgun at me. I suddenly realised that my body is broken, so was the body of a girl. One of her eyeballs protruding forward, red and disturbingly huge

Causing demons stress or pain:

My wife and I were both walking in the amusement park I became self aware in my dream and I had asked her what the time was. She started screaming and spinning up in the air. I freaked out in my dream and tried to wake up only to become stuck like if you were in a sleep paralysis state. My eyes were open and i kept trying to scream out words IRL and I wasn’t able to.

i was dreaming that i was in a sort of class room and i realised i was dreaming so i started saying over and over to the people in my dream what time is it and the date and they all turned looked at me with big eyes and started running away from me so i was laughing at them and took one by the shoulders and was shaking him asking what time it is and they all just tried to run away from me.

This character started screaming at me like a child. His voice was a screeching sound. The weird thing was that as he was screaming, the scene turns black and the last thing I saw was his eyes shining like light (the light you see in welding shops, that’s how I describe it) . Everything turns black but I could still hear the voice for maybe about 2 seconds until I woke up.

I can't remember where I was, but I asked somebody and they asked me why I asked that, I said "just tell me the date and time" and they started crying! And said "please don't ask me that again" but I did ask again and they fell to their knees, crying hysterically and then I woke up.

Attacking or death:

I remember asking these two guys who were talking to a lady what time it was and when I asked all 3 of them turned slowly to look at me then one of the guys pulls out a pistol and shoots me in the face.

Don’t recommend, I asked in a lucid dream last night while in a car full of people, they all turned around and looked at me and it was like a glitch. They then drove the car into a tree and it went black after that.

I was talking with my boyfriend when I realized I was in a dream so I remembered to ask this question. His expression changed as soon as I asked, like he was angry, then his face distorted into a creepy looking demon face and he reached out to grab me, then I jumped awake.

I just had a very similar experience but instead of "what time is it?" I asked "what's the meaning of this dream?" and my "characters" turned creepy on me and said "that you're gonna die".

The moment I said it, it sounded like the big electricity breaker went down, I could hear the big machine suddenly turned off, all the music and noise of the people at the fun fare went completely silent. And I immediately felt my heart sink and felt this overwhelming fear come over me, for some reason knowing that I did something really bad. And then I felt this large hand right in front of my stomach, I didn’t see it but I subconsciously knew that this hand could rip out all my insides in one quick grab. That was when I knew I had to get the f**k out and thought about my husband who was sleeping on my side and woke up, breathing frantically and sweating, back in my bedroom.

I felt like I was being tortured for asking the question and wanted to wake up but wasn’t able to because I started experiencing an episode of sleep paralysis.

Intense Staring:

I said it to someone and then they all snapped their necks at me wide Eyed and I instantly woke up but was in sleep paralysis for like 30 secs.

I met someone new in dream. Tried to collect their contact info. The moment I asked what the time is. She stopped smiling and I immediately woke up. As if someone pushed the eject button, but was in sleep paralysis for about a few seconds.

I was in my room having fun with a bunch of other girls who I didn’t know and I realised I was lucid dreaming. So I decided to ask them what to time was, all the laughter stopped, and they all turned to look at me dead silent with their eyes were piercing into my soul, they all started vibrating and moving towards me.

You'll notice that sleep paralysis among waking up is very common after asking this question. Some people even physically feel demons touching them while being paralyzed, which reminds me of the countless accounts of people waking up with demons sitting or choking them. The fact that "dreams" result in very similar, real-life results for random people regardless of religious background, culture, or demographic, should make it very apparent that "dreams" are more than random figments of the imagination. The results from asking this question generate similar results over, and over again. There is a proponderuance of evidence to show that there is definitely something demonic with dreams.

Quote: "I asked the question on multiple occasions. Every time, I feel a demonic presence. Dark and twisted. Malevolent. And I lose the lucidity. I have no control anymore. I'm trying to wake up, but it feels like I'm being dragged back. It is beyond terrifying."

Interestingly enough, asking "what time is it?" isn't the only thing that will result in "dream characters" showing their true, evil colors. If you simply state that you know you're dreaming to your "dream characters", they will react aggressively, violent, morph into uncanny creatures (black hole eyes, massive open mouth, etc.). For some reason, either being aware of "time" or being aware of the fact that you're dreaming is very upsetting or even harmful to these beings in our dreams.

I read one very interesting account where a woman told a seemingly friendly "character" that she was dreaming. The "character" morphed into an angry demon-like creature and said, "I put you into this dream, I can take you out of it, bitch. I'll show you a dream". The women woke up with the typical sleep paralysis.

I have no idea what "dreams" truly are. Based on the reactions and things demons say/do when confronted with a conscious dreamer, my only theory is that demons put us into dreams, control us and our actions in the dreams, possibly to generate human emotions from us in the dream state. Demons feed off of negative energy -- they need it to survive. This is called "loosh". Therefore, I think they posess our bodies and actions in the dream state to make us enact upon actions that benefit them. Perhaps this is why during the "REM" sleep state (the state where we have dreams), our eyes dart all over uncontrollably, as well as having involuntary muscle twitches -- these bodily reactions are known to be common during demon posession. This would also explain why dreams are commonly negative, aggressive, or sexual. I rarely experience negative emotions/thoughts. However, in my dreams I may have occurances of being very confrontational, aggressive, and even kill. These are all very unlike me when I have conscious choice over myself. I also think demons pray upon primal male instinct in the dream state. Now that I know "dreams" involve real entities, I would strictly avoid ANY sexual contact in your dreams. We know succubi are a real thing -- therefore, it's not a stretch to assume that any sexual contact in your dreams are demons trying to drain you for their benefit. I understand this could be fun, but you don't know what entities you are attaaching yourself to. Also, the demon could be male disguised as female, which is gay.

I had an interest in lucid dreaming because I wanted to have sex with Duke Nukem in my dreams. However, since learning all of the above, I've decided that I'll have to stick with comissioning Duke Nukem nudes from people on Deviantart. It's unfortunate, but I don't want to attach myself to demonic entities or somehow get pregnant by a demon.

I would be very interested in learning more about the truth behind dreams. It's difficult to research anything non-mainstream on topics like this. If you have realistic theories or information regarding the demonic truth behind dreams, I would like to know. Email me ashleyjones@icum.to -- I already know 98% of people will think I'm crazy because most people are materialistic drones who love living in the matrix and will vehemently defend the matrix. I'm not trying to "argue", I'm simply writing about an interesting phenomenon for those who are interested in reading it. Inb4 "those people had that dream becuz they already knew something creppy would happen if they asked that question!1!!!!" I've read numerious accounts of people who were seeking for answers because they asked this question innocently, and got unexpected creepy results. Therefore, the power of suggestion isn't applicable here, because the results are similar regardless of if the dreamer is aware of what the results could be or not.

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This is a babe I've been wanting to talk about for a long time. Linnea is THE "Scream Queen". I'm just an "underage anal princess" apparently. If you've ever watched a horror B-movie, you've probably seen Linnea. She's most well-known for her role as "Trash" in the movie The Return of the Living Dead. Fun fact: The character "Scuz" in that movie went on to be a gay pedophile, so he must be a fan of mine. Yes, unfortunately "Scuz" raped Drake Bell, known from the kid's show Drake and Josh (or as I call it: Rape and Josh). (On a serious note, that is very sad.)

It's also sad that Scuz will never be able to appreciate Linnea's T-I-G-H-T little bod. She's 5' one inches of total petite perfection. Forget her nickname as the "Scream Queen". After looking at these pictures, she's made me a Cream Queen.

Linnea knows she's hot and has no problem showing her body off in the awesome movies she's in, which is much-needed fan service. Especially these days. I can't watch modern b-movies; the women in them look like they were selected from a McDonalds Fan Club, and only the women with the most tattoos were allowed to be in the film. Going back to a time where the women didn't need to be transported by a forklift, and had zero tattoos, is like a breath of fresh air. I will say, the only drawback from Linnea and many other babes from the 80's is the terrible boob-job epidemic of the time. Those boob jobs are the definition of bolt-ons. It looks like a surgeon put a plastic tupperware bowl under her skin and called it good. The strange thing is -- her bolt-ons aren't even big. I figured boob jobs were a "go big or go home" type of thing, but hers are small. It's such a shame, I love small boobs on a chick, so I ber hers were amazing before she got her tupperware installed. It's not a total deal-breaker, I can still crank one out while watching her in Hooker with a Hacksaw.

Linnea seems like a very nice and self-aware women, which makes her even more attractive. She even has her own work-out video for zombies to follow along to. The people who star or write b-movies are my favorite types of people. The goal is to have fun, not take yourself too seriously, and make something with a unique story rather than rely on fancy special effects, A-list actors, etc. If I had a budget as big as she makes my boner, I would definitely hire her as an actress and force her to kiss me.

Here's a picture of us together. She looks super cute in this picture, mostly because she's not wearing makeup. If you're ready to get wiggly with Quigley, then I recommend watching Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama. Her character is super cool in that movie and is everything I aspire to be but am too patheic to actually be. She's still doing movies to this day, and while I'm sure those tupperwares aren't so "upper" these days, she's still worth checking out.

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Larry looks ready to celebrate!!!!!!! And he's right -- it's time to celebrate dukenukemis.cool's monthly obituary. Good thing you have your Kleenex out after reading that Linnea Quigley article; you're gonna need them again. It's sad that we have to say goodbye to Larry, who said "peace out, girl scout" on September 25, 2025. He spent 86 years of his life doing things he loved, like his wife, collecting rocks and making crafts from them, and even metal detecting. Good thing he likes rocks -- he's currently surrounded by so many of them. If Larry loved metal detecting so much, he should've gone to work at the TSA to metal detect people. As a fun family memory, his family should all take metal detectors to his grave and detect metal over his plot and guess what piece of metal they're scanning. Possible guesses: Grandpa's glasses, wedding ring, belt buckle, toe ring.

I'm sure Larry was once as tasty as that cake, because his wife had FOUR kids with him. Very impressive, Gary. Oops, his name was Larry. Sorry. Anyways. Barry was an American hero, as he served in the U.S. Army. There's no mention of him being awarded something like a Purple Heart, but I'm sure he had Blue Balls being away from his wife. When he returned home, he went on to work as a quality control inspector at a place called Army Depot, which is like Home Depot except everything comes in camoflouge. So it's really hard to see what you're buying.

Maybe working around camoflouge for a long time isn't a good idea, because sadly Jerry lost his sight late into his life. So I'm guessing the cake picture was taken before the eyesight loss. I'm glad he isn't able to see this strange picture they used for his funeral, because they simply got rid of the background but didn't replace it with anything. Luckily, I am a GIMP photo wizard and I can apply any suitable background to this picture.

You could also edit the cake to say anything that would be more suitable for a funeral.

Terry had a good run, clocking in at 86 years. I hope that coffin is comfy, because he's gonna spend at least 86 more years in it. HEAVEN OR HELL? MY VERDICT: He probably stepped on a ton of ants when he went rock collecting and metal detecting, so he's definitely in ant farm hell.

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Recipe: Apple Crumble

WHO'S READY TOOOOOO CRUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I make apple pie pretty regularly because apple pie is one of my favorite things, but I hate making the crust for apple pie, it's too much work. Thank God I found this apple crumble recipe, which can be made in under 30 minutes (not including bake time). If you want to impress your parents, make them this apple crumby.

4 cups sliced peeled Granny Smith apples
1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2tsp vanilla
1 cup white sugar
¾ cup all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

Directions:
Skin the apples with a potato peeler. Cut the apples into slices. Put the apples into a cassarole dish, I did a 9x13 dish. Mix water, lemon juice, and vanilla together and pour over the apples. Stir the apples to make sure they're all coated.

Crumble topping: Combine sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt in a mixing bowl. Mix well. Add chunks of the 1/2 cup butter and mix until mixture is crumbly. I find mixing with a wooden paddle-like spoon is best. Then sprinkle the topping evenly over apples.

Bake in a 376 degree preheated oven until apples are bubbling and crumble topping is golden brown and crisp, about 45 minutes. Let cool slightly to thicken.

How to enjoy: Cut out a piece of apple crumble. Ensure the apple crumble is hot. If it's not, then reheat it in a toaster oven (microwaves give you cancer because you're radiating your food, so don't use microwaves. They're for children who don't know how to cook.) for a few minutes. Then, top it with a few scoops of vanilla icecream.

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FUN ACTIVITY

Do you know these citizens well enough to hand out the correct treats? Post your results here: https://tubgurl.com/ashleyj/thread/29878.html

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This is the end of the monthly column

The subjects and questions were submitted to me via email (ashleyjones@icum.to) and my discussion board ( https://tubgurl.com/ashleyj/thread/29878.html ). Please submit your questions, tip requests, suggestions, etc. via email with the subject line, "MONTHLY COLUMN", or in the thread linked about the monthly column. I will address them in future monthly column issues. If you are a teacher who wants to use my column as educational reading material for students, you are welcome to do so.

About the author: Ashley Jones