A place where we explore stories of monsters, mysteries, and conspiracies.
Blog isn’t dead. Just... struggling with life and a life of other stuff, and I forgot to pay. I could go into more detail, but I’m so tired from the crap life has thrown at me that I wish I could hibernate for a year and wake up refreshed.
Oh well. Sorry for the blog going down. That’s on me. Hopefully, I’ll be more attentive next time.
Oh, hey, dear reader. I recalled how to use a keyboard.
Nah, just kidding. The reality is—as you might expect from me—that the year has not treated me kindly, and the overwhelming shame and despair of not producing content on this blog has left me feeling drained. The culprit? Bipolar disorder! My eternal nemesis who leaves me wishing I could reach inside my brain and punch it square in the frontal lobe.
Bipolar isn’t the only thing to have caused me trouble this year, though. I’ve also gone through a lot of personal struggles that I am not comfortable sharing on here, though, involving a friend just… cutting all contact with me out of the blue. As in, in the middle of a conversation. It’s like she vanished off the face of the Earth. I have no idea what happened to her, and even now, I’m worried that something bad happened to her.
Alas, distance prevents me from finding answers, so that’s… fun—assuming you have the same sense of humor as Mark Hoffman. But life goes on, whether I like it or not. If she happens to see this update, I truly hope you’re okay and that all is well.
That aside, why am I posting this in the middle of June when I’ve been dead silent, yet again, for the entire year? Well, I am writing again, as has been the tradition since 2023. The first half of the year is awful, and the second half is pleasant. The only difference is that this year, I’ve been prescribed lithium and Latuda to combat my bipolar, so there’s a chance this isn’t a coincidence and that I am, in fact, getting better.
So, what’s my plan? Write Decemystery 2025 and pray that 2026 doesn’t kick me in the stomach the moment the calendars collectively read “January.” So, with that said, see you all in 4,061 hours!
It’s New Year’s Eve. That time of the year when you can plan your New Year’s Resolution, only to abandon it a few days later because, let’s face it, old habits die hard. That’s why my resolution for 2025 is not to plan a single thing for this blog; I’ll just play it by ear.
But that’s for tomorrow. Today is the last day of Decemystery 2024, and I’d say we’ve had quite a unique ride. We’ve talked about tall aliens, a mummy, a talking cat, the Easter Bunny, and headless aliens!
And I can’t say I remember writing any of it.
No, that isn’t hyperbole. Just like last year, the fact I went from story to story without a real break in between means that everything feels like a blur at best. At worst, I straight-up can’t recall writing the article because I did it in a frenzied state where I was exhausted.
That’s what makes today’s case so interesting to me. It was one that I came across by pure chance, but it fits that feeling so well. In a way, it embodies what 2024 has been for me: A year that I cannot remember.
Serving as the capstone entry for Decemystery 2024 is the story of The Boy Who Lost His Memory of October. Where did the rest of the intro go? I lost it, along with my memory of 2024. Now, come along; let’s wrap this up so I can go back to playing Granblue Fantasy Relink.
At the start of this month, I said I wanted to find five of the weirdest conspiracies possible to outdo the ones I covered last year. I wanted maximum strangeness across the board, and I think I achieved that quite well.
On December 8, I covered “The McDonald’s Blob,” which I think ended up being one of this month’s best write-ups. It was brisk fun, and I had an absurdly good time covering it. Also, I got to cover some of the urban legends surrounding a fast-food chain, which is something I never thought I’d have the opportunity to do.
On December 16, I covered “bubbles.avi,” which was also a “purge survivor,” as I mentioned when I covered “We’re Gonna Be a Family Again Soon.” I only now realized that. I’ve been working on Decemystery 2024 since August, and I only now realized that there was a crossover between those two.
Anyway, on December 22, I covered “The Day the Earth Screamed,” which I think was one of the weakest write-ups this month. I know that a lot of my friends and family members tell me not to be so hard on myself, but I was suffering from severe burnout at that time, and I had practically no motivation. Oh well, that’s in the past; there’s no point in lingering on what can’t be undone.
Well, until I inevitably rewrite the story to give it the treatment it deserves.
The fourth and most recent case was “Apollo 11 Landed on the Wrong Moon,” which was planned to be the capstone write-up for this year. However, as is the case with me, plans change. Sometimes, they change so much that the entire capstone is swapped out.
Those four stories are all absolutely bonkers in their own right, especially the one about Apollo 11. I’d say it’s the weirdest of the five, but that doesn’t diminish today’s story by any stretch of the imagination. No, today’s write-up is fantastical fun in its own right.
Known as The Singularity Tape, this is a short tale that I wanted to cover because it’s the second Conspiracy Iceberg story to center around found footage; the first was last year’s “VCR Wife.” Also, I have covered shockingly few mysteries featuring found footage. I really need to change that.
Anyway, come along, dear reader; Decemystery 2024’s penultimate write-up serves as the Conspiracy Iceberg’s swan song for this year. Let’s leap into Michigan’s singularity together and learn the truth about a videotape that defies space and time all at once…
Ah, nuts, I just realized I have to discuss the Michigan Blue Hell now. Granblue Fantasy Relinked is going to have to wait.
I want everyone to know that I am writing this roughly 14 hours after the previous write-up. If you didn’t read that unhinged diatribe of mayhem and joy, I spent 15 hours on the road yesterday and wrote the article over the span of a mere 3 hours.
I thought that I would pass out the second I was done. I was wrong. I was awake until 1:30 in the morning; I was up for 23 and a half hours because I was riding a bipolar-induced high from the frenetic writing I did (which I mentioned in the conclusion of the write-up).
Thankfully, melatonin was there to save the day—albeit less than I usually take. That’s likely why I went to bed later than I should have, but oh well. It took a while, but I did sleep for nine hours. It was nice and comfy underneath my blanket. It was less nice and comfy in my borderline fever-dream-infested mind.
It was even less nice when I woke up.
Holy crap, I woke up with the worst headache imaginable. It felt like a gorilla was using my head as a punching bag. I have no idea if I caught something over the holidays or if it’s just the lack of proper sleep, but it feels like Death took a holiday in my skull.
Normally, that would be grounds for not writing and instead resting so I get better. However, as my friends will tell you, I do not understand the concept of “getting proper rest” when I am sick. Why is that? Because I get highly irritable and restless when I am not doing something.
That means it’s time for “Physically Unwell Storytime with Vertigo,” presented by a bottle of Tylenol. So, what’s today’s story? What do I, a man who feels like utter trash, have in store for you, dear reader?
Something that gives me a headache on its own.
This case was on the cusp of being axed because I simply wasn’t sure if I felt like covering another cryptid case. But then I realized that might be a good way to exert the frustration I’m feeling from the headache. So, come along; take a seat outside of my plastic bubble while I tell you about The Red-Furred… Thing.
What, is that an abrupt lead-in to the write-up? So is a rapid-onset of post-Christmas sickness.
So, yesterday, I said I had scrapped two stories. One of them was an absolutely wild and crazy story involving extraterrestrials. In truth, I could have covered it, but I’d prefer it if I had a few days to work on it. As it stands, I’m writing these articles the day before they go up.
However, I did want to somehow keep my word by providing one final whacky foray into the realm of aliens—even if it wasn’t the story I’d planned to cover. Lucky for me, I had no shortage of stories to pick from!
While most think of Greys when they think of extraterrestrials, the truth is that there are numerous types of aliens in ufology. Don’t believe me? Go look at the “UFO/Aliens” tag on this blog. Alternatively, go look at the intro to “The 8-foot-tall Alien of Fort Wayne,” where I listed out a bunch of cases I’ve covered.
When deciding on which case to go with, I considered going to the database of the National UFO Reporting Center (NUFORC) to poach a story that sounded odd.
However, I quickly opted against that when I was browsing through my Google documents. Yes, just like the other day with “The Ghost Who Took a Pair of Socks,” my own archive came to the rescue. How quaint.
Just like the story mentioned earlier, this one was planned for last year’s Decemystery duology and even briefly on the schedule for this year—I think. It might’ve been one that got added and subsequently removed about a dozen times because I can be woefully indecisive.
Today, dear reader, we’ll be taking a look at… well, just read the title of the write-up. Despite the lack of a head, it speaks for itself. If you’re unable to hear its voice, it’s known as the case of The Head-scratching Encounter with Headless Aliens! Now, strap in, dear reader, because this is going to get oh-so-delightfully weird—and absolutely ridiculous.
Well, this is disappointing. Today’s story was intended to be about something that I had teased in the inaugural write-up for this month. It was the story of a mother and son (or daughter; I’m pretty sure I got the details wrong) who shared the same dream. I was quite eager to cover the story until I realized I had 27 pages of material I needed to comb through.
The story I had planned for today originates from the Forteana Forums. I cannot—by any stretch of the imagination—write the entire thing in one go without sacrificing my physical and mental well-being. I may be willing to push myself past my limits, but this would’ve required me to stay up for over 24 hours if I wanted to put a dent in the story. As such, I’ve opted to put it—along with an absolutely bonkers UFO case—on the back burner until next year.
To say that I’m disappointed would be an understatement; I hate that I teased not one but two write-ups and had to yank them at the last second because I didn’t think to cover them sooner. But, hey, it’s not the first time that I’ve had to make schedule changes. I know it won’t be the last, either.
So, how does that tie into today’s write-up? Well, initially, I had no real worthwhile replacement. Given I had to make this change at the very last moment (I’m serious; I was at a Christmas get-together when I made the change), I had no idea what I’d do.
Ultimately, I decided I’d grab a random story from About—my favorite go-to source for random stuff to cover and call it a day—and hope that the apology I gave would be good enough. Yeah, I know that isn’t the best look, but I’m stressed beyond belief, and my brain isn’t exactly “all there.”
However, everything changed when I stumbled across one case: The Bent Key. At first glance, that title is about as uninteresting, lame, and innocuous as can be. In fact, it sounds like it doesn’t belong on a website like About, which has hosted such baffling cases as “The 20-foot-tall Monster in Montana” and “One Man’s Conversation with a Cat.”
To a degree, that assessment would be correct. This story isn’t as wild or outlandish as the other stories I’ve covered from there. However, it has one thing every other case lacks. What is that thing? Well, why should I spoil it? Come along, dear reader; let’s dive into the case of one man’s bent key and see what makes this special.
