Last night after dinner, Pammy told us that she used to be psychic. After this revelation, I didn’t think the conversation could get any better. But I was wrong. So very, very wrong. Because then she told us she once had an extra terrestrial encounter.

The physical restrain I had to use on my face is indescribable. The self control to not look at Luke, push our chairs back and proceed to roll on the ground weeing ourselves with laughter was excruciating. In fact, I had to use my hair as a moustache to cover my mouth as I felt it contorting with every new sentence. What was worse, was that she was directing the conversation at me. At me! I don’t do a very good sympathetic face, let alone a credible ‘yes, I totally empathise with alien encounters’ face. I’m finding more and more on this trip that people are sharing shit with me that my cynical mind is just not equipped to deal with.

Let me relay the conversation, no exaggeration, no creative licence used.

Pammy: “Speaking of probing (which we weren’t), have I told you this story? I’m sure I have (looking at me).”

Me: “Errr, no”.

I look at Luke, he confirms and is no doubt hoping for some kind of lesbian orgy story. Not tonight my friend, not tonight.

Pammy: “When I first moved here, on my first night at the house, I had a stack of papers on the floor. I had gone to bed and suddenly, in the middle of the night I woke up to find the papers levatating and a bright, white light outside. I knew that I was about to be taken. I just had a feeling, you know? So I clung onto the bed because I didn’t want to go. I really, really, didn’t want to go. When I woke up, I checked all over my body for any signs of probing, but couldn’t find any. But you never know for sure.

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK.

You cannot make this shit up.

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