James Jenks
@BUZZZZZZZZZZZZ
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Portrait Artist | Storyteller | Worrier Secret Second Account: @thelostbride Tips always appreciated: #UncannyCommunity
Joined June 2009
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My old boss did a lot of stupid things, like, proper mental, but the funniest was when he was on the roof of our shop, and looked like he was about to leap the 6-foot distance to one of the other buildings.
I said, "Jim, there's no way you'll make that jump."
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My friend said "I was telling a mate about Jim, what he's like. He didn't believe me, so wanted to see him for himself."
That was how Jim, my old boss, was. So weird, so odd, he brought in tourists.
Anyway, Jim was fine and the shop owner got a huge insurance payout. Hooray! 🥳
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Like a 59-year-old extremely fragile Gazelle on a roof.
He flew through the air, cleared the gap, and landed.
Briefly.
Then immediately disappeared through the roof of the building.
Like, vanished.
It was like the building opened a mouth and swallowed him.
It gets better.
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...and a hundred antique plates breaking his fall.
I could not fucking breathe.
I thought, this is it, this is how I go out.
I was clutching my chest, everything was spinning, I was silent laughing, it looked like I was trapped in a scream.
Then, just as I'd found some air...
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He said, and I quote, "Watch this."
How many people throughout history have died with "Watch this" being the last thing they utter or hear?
Anyway, he took a few steps back and then ran at this gap.
He leapt.
Majestically.
Like a Gazelle.
Like a Gazelle on a roof.
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That building housed an antique business, an antique business that primarily sold extremely valuable plates and crockery.
So I'd just witnessed my boss say, "Watch this!" to me, then he leapt, disappeared through a roof, and then all I can hear is the sound of him falling..
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...that was not one of them.
One of the best days of my life.
Anyway, I got up off my hands and knees, and staggered away to find the master keys.
"Stay there," I said.
Oh, and the door for this place is all glass, all glass panels. I can see Jim, I can see what he's done.
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...somehow, I heard this frantic tapping sound.
My boss was knocking on the door of the shop he'd just crashed through.
*knocking*
"Hello? Hello? James? You there?"
Me: *gasping* ".......barely."
"I need help."
*gasping* "....I know."
"I'm serious!"
*gasping* "...I know."
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"I'm locked in."
*gasping "...I know"
"Can you go and get the master key and let me out, please?"
(he said please!)
*can't fcking breathe*
The entire time, all I could hear was antique crockery either breaking or crunching.
I had some bad days at that job, but...
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...found the master keys in his pocket.
He'd had them on him the whole time.
Best...day...of...my...life.
sigh
Good times.
Jim was a menace. My friend and I used to tell people Jim stories and they wouldn't believe us.
One day, we had a weird customer in the shop.
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Jim was fine, physically, but as I looked at him trapped and afraid on the other side of that glass, he looked like a sad and dusty puppy at the dog rescue.
I went inside to the office, but I couldn't find the master keys anywhere.
I went back and broke the bad news to Jim.
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And this is all true.
"How am I going to get out?"
"I dunno. Kick the lock. Kick the door open. It's old. It'll go."
"I can't break the door."
"Jim, you've broken EVERYTHING else."
After several minutes of back & forth, Jim eventually agreed to try kicking the door open.
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"Fuck....fuck....fuck....fuck.." followed by crushing crockery sounds.
Jim was fine, he was fine. I promise you.
I was not, and this was probably the start of my asthma.
Anyway, as Jim was clutching his thigh, trying to extricate himself safely from the window, he...
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Missed the doorframe and lock entirely, as his leg smashed through the glass of the window.
Trapping Jim, his precious thigh arteries now cradled by angry glass.
I wish I could let you hear Jim's voice. What it was like. If you knew his voice, it would be so much better.
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"Oh fuck! Oh fucking hell!"
I thought, this is it. He's trying to kill me.
I die today.
He was now stuck in this door.
I....could...not....breathe.
I look up, and Jim's now hopping on the spot, trying to keep his leg off the broken glass. And every time he hopped, I heard...
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I'm watching from outside, as Jim took a few steps back, crunching finest porcelain underfoot as he went.
I can still see it in my mind now.
Jim psyching himself up, rocking back and forth like a bobsledder about to start the run of their life.
Then he ran.
He raised his leg.
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I say customer, but they didn't buy anything. They just stood there, watching.
Watching Jim and I as we went about our work.
After about half an hour, this guy left.
That was weird, I thought.
That evening, a friend phoned. He said, "I sent a friend into your place today."
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@Suburbannnn
It was ridiculous. We genuinely argued for several minutes. I kept saying, kick it, and Jim was all, "I can't, it'll look bad."
WHAT?!
At one point, he asked me if I could pick the lock from my side.
Yes, Jim, I'll that right now, shall I? BECAUSE I'M A VICTORIAN CRIMINAL!!!
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I probably should've said, my boss was on the roof trying to fix something. This wasn't him trying to end it all, or having a bit of an episode.
My old boss did a lot of stupid things, like, proper mental, but the funniest was when he was on the roof of our shop, and looked like he was about to leap the 6-foot distance to one of the other buildings.
I said, "Jim, there's no way you'll make that jump."
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There's something kinda neat about seeing, in real time, a person enjoying something you wrote.
Seeing them like the individual posts one by one, then at the end, hitting follow.
It's like seeing someone enjoying a really good meal.
And then deciding to follow the chef home.
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When my sister was in the hospice, I was sat by her bed, my niece with me. Her phone pinged and she said it was my sister's partner, Steve, asking how she was.
My sister, weak of voice, said, "Text back - 'She's gone'. Then wait 30 seconds and text...'back to sleep.'"
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@KyivIndependent
It's pretty shocking the lengths now taken to verify and confirm that innocent people have actually been murdered. We live in the most intelligent age, yet we're having to use satellites and walk folk step by step through video & photographic evidence, because folk are difficult.
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Hello to anyone following me because of my ex-boss story (where I've made a rod for my own back by using his real name). I genuinely appreciate the vote of confidence, but I fully expect to lose half of you over the coming weeks.
Just slipping away in the night, like my father.
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Here's what my ex-boss, Jim, told me on day one of my employment:
"If your till never balances, it means you're incompetent and I'll have to let you go. If it always balances, that means you're fiddling and a thief, and I'll have to let you go. Remember that and you'll be fine."
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Reminded of the time I found a spent (blank) bullet casing in the kettle at work. We rarely cleaned this kettle, so god knows how long we'd been drinking boiled bullet for.
I thought the rattling was just dislodged limescale.
Fully aware of the calibre of our work, I thought...
Do you ever think about the physics and random chance involved in getting a stone in your shoe while you're out walking? And just how improbable it would all seem.
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Ok, inspired by something that happens in the latest episode of
#UncannyUSA
, here is the story of my sister's attempt to prove life after...her...death.
Trigger warning: death (obvs)
Be warned, it's not a funny story, but it's what happened.
It was actually a beautiful day,...
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For anyone that needs one, there's another Jim story here.
It's too long, has typos, and isn't funny, but it is true.
👇🔥
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@Stonekettle
Always weird to see Christians, with an absolute faith in an afterlife, also insist that they need guns to protect the lives of their family.
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@Stonekettle
As an outsider looking in at the US, it seems quite ballsy to let an outgoing president have a free go at insurrection, AND then also let them run for office a second time. I mean, the clues are there.
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@jasperse75
Pretty much.
He was only meant to be up there to check the condition of the roof.
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30 seconds later, my niece's phone rang.
She looked at it. "It's Steve. Should I answer it?" she said.
"I would." I said.
"Hello?"
She wasn't on speakerphone, but half the hospice heard, "I ALMOST CRASHED THE FUCKING CAR!"
And my sister chuckled and then went back to sleep.
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@Channel4News
@krishgm
Every time I see Zelenskyy, when the West is admiring him and his bravery, I get this sickening feeling that the world is watching this man's murder in slow motion.
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Anyway, like a random stone kicked up by your own foot, spinning through the air, then down, between your sock and shoe, coming to rest underneath your foot; the kettle bullet seemed unlikely, but it happened.
Sometimes what looks sinister, is actually random weirdness.
Maybe.
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Where it was then boiled for a month and we kept drinking gun tea like it was Punisher juice.
I wasn't sure whether my boss's confession was more or less comforting than when I thought it was a death threat, but I knew when to leave well alone.
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I'm not complaining but my notifications are like looking at the Matrix right now. If you've left a comment, asked a question or something and I don't reply right away, rest assured I'm not being ignorant, and I love you all equally.
Thanks for the follows and nice comments.❤️👍
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Morning all.
My neighbour, who moved in last year, has now been hammering every day for exactly one year.
Either the slowest renovation known to man, or the mother of all falls.
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He never let me go.
But the stress. For the first few weeks I was panicking because my till kept balancing and I thought:
"Oh no - the money's all correct and accounted for. I'm going to get fired."
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Just a bunch of lads taking their hedge for a walk, perfectly innocent countryside stuff.
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My sister sent an old photo of our mum. The most on-brand image of her. Fur coat, leather boots, smoking. The 70s/80s were mad for smoking. I thought everyone had fog indoors. As a kid, if you weren't being burned accidentally by your mum's cigarette, you must've been at school.
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Who couldn't stand my tweets either.
Quick introduction, so you know what type of person you're following.
I paint portraits for a living. I'm not very good at it, but I really don't see why that should matter. My clients are often very happy or extremely angry. No in-between.
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"You were firing a gun in here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't know. They were only blanks."
"I get that."
My boss had fired several rounds from this blank-firing gun, and one of the ejected casings had spun through the air, and then down the spout of our office kettle.
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Holy shit, Tracy. This is dark, even for you.
So naturally we did it.
"She's gone..."
*hits send*
*waits*
*waits*
*waits*
*waits*
*waits*
*looks out window*
*waits*
Then my niece texted the rest.
"...back to sleep."
*hits send*
*waits*
*looks at squirrels outside*
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I posted my dad's "ghost story" earlier, but deleted it because of typos (I was eating a hot dog at the time), and I cannot live with typos.
So I'll try again, and if you notice a typo, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD - please don't tell me.
If you read this earlier, I apologise.
So...
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It's funny how fear amplifies coincidence.
Late last night, early this morning, I'd just finished sending a scary email (all my emails are scary), and had just climbed into bed.
Over the next 5 minutes, while I lay there, the content of the email swirling in my head;
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I feel like I'm the only person who didn't see the Northern Lights last night. It feels kinda personal, and no, I won't help you fight the giant killer plants.
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I also occasionally like to write and tweet about strange things that may have happened recently, strange things that may have happened in my past, and my personal favourite - my strange family.
They love that.
If that sounds like something you'd be into - welcome aboard. ❤️👍
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"Yeah. Any idea why?"
"Nope. No idea."
"Ok. Seems weird. Strangely sinister."
"Yeah. Well there are some odd people out there."
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
........
"Jim, I think we should report this to the police."
"Oh, I remember now! I was firing a gun in here a few weeks ago."
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I thought, there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep now, not for the next year or so. So I stayed up, Googling "how much adrenalin is too much adrenalin?" and "5 signs you're having a fatal heart attack".
The countryside. As we say around here, it'll get you in the end.
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All, in turn, would go wide-eyed with terror, before slowly turning to look behind them.
And some of these relatives were OLD.
I had to go find a nurse and tell them to shut this fan down before we had another body on our hands.
It was a beautiful day though. Everyone said so.
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...maybe this was some sort of threat from a disgruntled customer.
I figured, maybe I'd better bring this to my employer's attention. It felt like the kind of thing that should be at least mentioned.
I said, "Hey, Jim, there's a bullet in the kettle."
Jim: "What? No!"
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When I started "creepy" sleepwalking as a child, my parents solution was to buy me one of those bunk beds with a desk and wardrobe underneath.
My parents thought, yeah, let's put him higher up and add a ladder so he can break his legs. That should stop him.
It did not.
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@Suburbannnn
Jim would love being the centre of attention.
I'll see what my legal department and I can do.
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PREVENTING, DISCOURAGING, OR MAKING IT HARDER FOR THE POOR TO ACCESS PRESCRIPTIONS WILL ONLY CAUSE GREATER AND MORE EXPENSIVE PROBLEMS FOR THE NHS FURTHER DOWN THE LINE YOU USELESS BUNCH OF NO-SOLUTION FUCKING DICK-IDIOT CUNTBAGS!!!
#ThankYouTories
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@Stonekettle
As an outsider looking in at the US, I can't muster the energy to debate gun control anymore. It's obvious what the problem is, it's obvious what the solution is. But too many have accepted there's a price they're willing to pay, in blood and death, for their right to have guns.
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@chrislhayes
Kinda wild how an outgoing president appears to have, not only been allowed a free go at insurrection, but the GOP are like, 'Let's give the guy another chance! He's our guy!'
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Need.
My small collection of ornamental ceramic lake monsters is calling..
At last, I have obtained the Wade 1969 Whyte & Mackay 50ml Scotch whisky Loch Ness Monster flask. What a find!
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And this thing was aimed directly at the back of my neck.
Nice one, sis. You found a way.
I then spent the next hour or so, watching a steady stream of grieving relatives enter her room.
Where they each, in turn, sat in the chair next to my sister's body, to say goodbye.
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I thought, hadn't they heard the news?
I wanted the world to fold in on itself.
Instead, I found myself sat, basking in the warmth of the sun, while desperately trying to block out the sound of Rodento and Juliet over there.
I had no idea they grunted like that.
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Everyone she loved and cared about, and even some people she hated.
My sister was the most determined, the strongest person I've ever known. So when she said she was going to do this - we were all a little scared.
Jesus, Tracy, white feathers would've done.
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I felt a definite blowing on the back of my neck.
Wide-eyed, I sat upright. I looked across at my sister's partner, as if to say with my eyes, "Would you mind awfully seeing what the fuck is behind me?"
But he was too busy crying.
I braced myself and slowly turned to look..
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I thought, that's it, we're all done, sleepy-go-bye-bye for Jenksy now.
WHEN THERE WAS A LOUD BANG ON THE ROOF ABOVE MY HEAD.
THE FUCKING LOCAL OWL HAD COME TO INVESTIGATE AND POSSBLY CARRY AWAY ONE OF THE FIGHTING FOXES FROM EARLIER.
NOT NOW, HOOTY! YOU SCARY BASTARD!
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@TessaCoates
@SoozUK
Curfew. No men out on the streets after 9pm. Watch crime, vandalism and assaults plummet before eventually moving to the daytime because, y'know.
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I sat on that bench, begging my sister to blow on my neck. Please, just a breeze. One gust. One creepy gust.
But no.
It was too nice a day.
Fuck.
I went back inside.
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(also creepy)
But cute, I thought. Clever, sis. Well done.
I knew how breezes worked. I could see what she was doing.
A way to make common drafts become some sort of message of reassurance for her loved ones.
And she told EVERYBODY this.
Everyone she knew.
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So, we held her hands in ours. Desperately trying to pass warmth and life into her.
I don't know if you've ever had the misfortune of touching a body as it's dying.
I hope not.
It feels extremely unnatural.
It's a deep cold.
Like the body is trying to suck warmth from you.
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I was lost in thought, trying to remember happier times. What were my last words to her? The EXACT last words? And...did she have a will?
Suddenly, despite the heat of the day, the warm stifling air, I became aware of a weird sensation on the back of my neck.
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When she died, it was with her partner and I holding her hands. Telling her that she was loved and we were there with her.
I'm not sure how much reassurance that was, but we did our best. We kept telling her she wasn't alone, and that we wouldn't leave her.
Right to the end.
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It had been a big day.
My sister had been determined not to die. She said that she didn't fancy it.
But she also said, if the Grim Reaper was prepared to be a dick, then she would, if she could, if there was a way, send us a message from beyond the grave.
To let us know.
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Some of you might remember a while back that I told the story of the time my dog reacted strongly to something in the middle of a field. And then dragged me away against my will. Well, funny update that I learned recently. By pure coincidence, they found a burial in that field.
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Pizza Express (*shudder*), Stratford-upon-Avon. Used to be part of the old slaughterhouse. Said to be haunted by the ghost of a young girl, dressed in white, who walks the main corridor.
My best friend used to live there, and I've got a really creepy story from that place.
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While we waited for the family, we decided to try and keep my sister's hands warm.
It's weird, I know, but her children were on their way and I didn't want her hands to be cold when they arrived.
I didn't want her hands, her touch, their last memories of her, to be scary.
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She didn't believe in heaven, she really didn't. But she also didn't want her children to feel like she'd left them. Abandoned them.
So she told them that mummy would always be watching (creepy), and if they ever felt something blowing on the back of their neck, it would be her.
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...the day she died.
Sunny.
Perfect.
I hated that.
It didn't feel right that the day was so nice. It felt like the world should end. No more joy after her passing. I wanted only clouds and thunder from now on.
Instead, we had clear blue skies, flowers blooming, and...
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...somewhere out in the hospice garden, 2 squirrels aggressively fucking.
They were either making love or fighting, I wasn't entirely sure, but they were really getting into it.
I was sat on a bench, mere feet from them, thinking, this is ridiculous! Can I please just be sad?
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Unbeknownst to me, because it was a hot day, and because the family was taking so long to get there, a nurse had been into the room and turned the room's wall-mounted room fan on.
The single, solitary room fan.
To, "Try and delay the body going off," she would later tell me.
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The Starsky and Hutch of paranormal investigation.
This is going to be 🔥🔥🔥
Here's something else we're making for Christmas...
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Like it's desperate to cling to life, any life.
We're just meat, I know. But it feels wrong. People are supposed to be warm.
I went and got a chair, and placed it next to her bed, her hand now in mine, and I tried desperately to put life back into her hands.
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Found my dad's old chess set. The set he tried to teach me to play chess with when I was little. My dad LOVED chess, and dearly clung to this sweet fantasy of being able to play chess with his only son (me (better be me)).
It did not go well.
Look at those faces. They knew.
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About 5 minutes later, I left her to go outside, and, along with her partner, we began the long process of phoning everybody that we had to, and completely ruining their day.
Her family were scattered.
It would take some time for them to reach the hospice to say goodbye.
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My father, when he wasn't teaching our dog Welsh just to spite me, would tell me tales of folklore & legend; all in his Welsh accent, the dog barking excitedly.
Since they took my father away, I've thought of Owen as my father.
If you love strange tales, traditionally told 👇
When I started the YouTube channel during lockdown my
Aim was to reach 1000 subscribers. I am four off doing this . If I was to get there by the Time between Times today I would be very happy ?
Owen Staton Time between Times Storytelling via
@YouTube
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@KatyMontgomerie
Exercise is *so* boring. Up, down, up, down, up, down, cry, cry. Run around, run around, run around, walk around, walk around, run around. Jump, jump, jump, jump, be self-conscious, be self-conscious, jump, jump.
It's relentless and not entertaining at all.
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I loved this SO much. Loved it, loved it. I'd listen to
@Markgatiss
&
@RevRichardColes
talk history, horror & M.R. James all day long. Fascinating and funny, I wish there was hours of this. I wish I could make it the ringtone on my phone.
#UncannyCommunity
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So anyway,
@DaveField19
suggested I tell this story again for my new followers, to let them know what they're potentially getting into. Give them the chance to unfollow now, before we get emotionally attached.
If you've followed me for awhile, then skip.
If not, a ghost story:
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New book purchase. I've been meaning to pick this up for ages.
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Could I always hear it bonging so ominously? Has it always been so loud and creepy?
I was just starting to relax, to drift off to sleep, when a terrifying scream pierced the silence. Two foxes had started screaming and fighting on my front lawn.
My heart.
My 48-year-old heart.
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Apropos of nothing, did I ever tell you guys about the time when I was 10 and my mum got a priest in to bless the house because of a Ouija board incident and a mysterious plague of frogs?
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@Channel4News
@krishgm
We're watching this man, his people, his country being slowly murdered on live tv. All while we shout, 'We support you - you're so brave.'
The West is impotent to Ukraine's destruction. Moldova next - then Poland. If you won't risk upsetting a nuclear Russia, then you never will.
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@JerryDunleavy
@jaketapper
If the Earth is constantly moving on an endless journey through space, does that mean the ghosts of our departed loved ones, now no longer bound by the laws of gravity, are just out there in deep space, floating and haunting for all eternity? Is Earth leaving a wake of the dead?
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Huge thank you to Sarah and Michelle & Eden for the Ko-fi donations.
Officially the first money I have ever made as a result of writing words. I had no idea such a thing was even possible.
That money will go towards much vital nutrients in the form of food.
Thank you. ❤️
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