As if the ring, the rice and the recession weren’t spinning enough, newlyweds across the globe are raising a macabre matrimonial matter; they’re being haunted. And not by exes or embarrassing wedding photographs, but by ghosts! Indeed, an unearthly specter seems to be hitching a ride on their honeymoons, transforming into ghost-oh-oh-sts. Welcome to the world of Haunted Honeymoons!

Many see their honeymoon as a time to escape from the stress and chaos of the wedding planning process. They dream of sun-soaked beaches, romantic candle-lit dinners, and absolutely no evidence of their ghostly in-laws. Well, the tables have turned because, by several intriguing accounts, the “till death do us apart” clause is getting itself a paranormal extension!

Case in point: meet the Tennants from Texas. They embarked on a quaint Amish village honeymoon, chasing simplicity. Little did they know, simplicity would chase them right back complete with a spectral twist! On their first night, as they hunkered down in their cabin, a blood-chilling whisper echoed, “Will thou pass the butter?” Wrought with fear, they did what any Texas newlyweds would do – reached for the butter.

Then consider the Beckets from Florida, who hoped for a chill, ski-cozy honeymoon in the Alps. To their antics, a ghostly local decided to join the frosty fun. Ever tried skiing down a slope with a chill running down your spine, courtesy of a phantom yodeler? Mr. Becket says, “It’s scarier than a gator in a swimming pool.” We’ll have to take your word for it, Mr. Becket!

Speaking of pools, newlyweds, The Andersons from California had planned a serene beach honeymoon to sip cocktail and surf the waves. Things took a spooky turn when their beach ball repeatedly circumference the bonfire, courtesy of a ghostly gust! Not the third wheel they’d hoped for, indeed!

These eerie occurrences led me to seek answers from esteemed paranormal investigator, Dr. Ichabod Veil, who opines that ghosts are attracted to ‘big life events’. He explained, “Just like us, spirits crave excitement. A wedding’s a huge social event with people crying and drama and cake – much more exciting than say, a Tuesday”.

Frankly, we’re not sure if the deceased are haunting for fun, cake, or need some marital advice. But the question remains – how to ward off these specters in the season of love? Well, the answers were as chimerical as the problem itself.

“It’s all about setting boundaries,” suggested marriage counselor Linda Lovejoy with a straight face. “Kindly but firmly, inform the ghost that it wasn’t invited to the honeymoon.” The mind boggles at the prospect of an otherworldly “Do Not Disturb” sign swinging on an astral plane!

As for newlywed couples about to embark on their dream honeymoons, Dr. Veil has a final word of wisdom, “Accept it. It’s your honeymoon, enjoy it, even if you have a spectral stow-away. Who knows, they might have some great destination recommendations!”

Behold, the latest trend in paranormal activity – the haunted honeymoon. Because after all, why should the newly-dead miss out on the marital bliss of the newly-wed or the lukewarm glamour of the haunted hotels? And remember, readers: these tales, truthful or exaggerated, remind of the unseen world entwined with our own; a world where every honeymoon suite might just be a trinity!

In the heartland of America, nestled between two nondescript cornfields, one step beyond squeaky rocking chairs and splintered picket fences, there lies a quiet town. But this quaint locale harbors a secret that could send shivers down the spine of any hard-nosed journalist or aspiring Pulitzer Prize winner. This is the town of Bluster Bottoms, home to the eeriest publisher in the nation: The Bluster Bugle. The newspaper does not merely report the news – it writes its own headlines!

Now, one might ask, don’t all newspapers write their own headlines? Yes, they do. But when we say, “The Bluster Bugle writes its own headlines,” we mean it far more literally. We’re talking no-life-forms-involved, floating-pen-over-paper, supernatural, spine-tingling stuff!

Renowned all over Bluster Bottoms for its startlingly accurate news and eerily prophetic headlines, The Bluster Bugle has come under scrutiny recently for its rather uncanny—and definitively unheard of—”editorial process.” It seems, dear citizens of Publicityville, that The Bugle needs no journalists, no sub-editors, no editors – none of the usual characters involved in the newsroom hullabaloo. All it needs, apparently, is midnight, and a jolt of otherworldly energy!

Our anonymous sources tell us that at the strike of twelve, the inert printing press of The Bluster Bugle springs to life. The pen levitates, suspended in the dank, newsprint-scented air, and begins writing. The result? The town awakes every morning to a slew of perfect headlines, each one more sensational (but somehow still accurate!) than the last.

“Local Farmer Discovers Unicorn in Backyard!” was the headline once. Sounds ludicrous, right? Wait till you hear this – farmer Jeb Brown indeed found a horse with an attached ice cream cone in his yard the next day. He knew nothing about a headline, but the bewildered townsfolk who read it certainly did!

Another giggler that made the townsfolk choke on their biscuits came about last year. “Granny Agnes Knits World’s Largest Sock!”. And you guessed it – indeed, Granny Agnes, unbeknownst to her that morning, found herself engrossed in the passionate knitting of a sock. A sock that would turn out to be just long enough to fit the leg of the town’s giant Paul Bunyan statue.

We even hear that the headline “Mayor Declares National Pudding Day” bizarrely coincided with the Mayor’s sudden urge to order a town-wide pudding festival! Town folks are still scratching their heads on whether the mayor has gone pudding mad or if their beloved Bugle is juggling sorcery.

This peculiar chain of events has led the readers to believe that The Bugle’s ghostly headlines aren’t just random hocus-pocus. They somehow predict, dictate or maybe even instigate the next day’s events. The eeriness has certainly put the town of Bluster Bottoms on the map and left the rest of us, in the sane world, wondering if ghostwriters are really ghosts!

Despite several attempts to debunk this uncanny phenomenon by paranormal experts, rationalists, and engineer brigades, the mystery remains unsolved. As if straight out of a Hitchcockian plot, the midnight editor continues to churn out his goosebump-inducing clairvoyant headlines, amusing, beguiling, and bewildering the bemused folk of Bluster Bottoms.

Meanwhile, journalists worldwide tremble at the thought of such spectral competition. Why risk a bad headline when an unseen relatively spectral hand can write them flawlessly? Whether our journalistic future is threatened by the rise of ghostwriters (pun intended) is yet to be seen. But as for now, folks, hold onto your hats! The world just got a bit weirder, one headline at a time!

Have you ever heard of phantom phone calls? You know, those eerily disembodied voices that come through your receiver when you swear your line is dead? Well, brace yourselves, dear Informers, because we’ve stumbled upon a tale that takes the idea of ‘roaming charges’ to the next level!

Our source, a certain Fredrick “Freddy” Farnsworth, a retired telephone engineer of 30 years, claims to have discovered a strange phenomenon. A phantom phone booth, hidden away in a desolate area of the Nevada desert, that is seemingly making and receiving calls from the beyond!

Freddy, never one to shy away from a challenge or the supernatural, claims he first picked up the weird vibes (or dial tones in this case) emanating from the phantom booth while doing a routine sweep of outdated phone lines in the area. According to him, this booth served no physical connections to any existing telephone network. Instead it was standing alone, defying all known telecommunication laws and principles. But the strangest thing was not its uncoupled existence in the middle of the desert, but rather the fact that it was ringing!

Apparently, words had spread in the spectral world that the best way to connect with the land of the living was through this little desert phone booth. But who could possibly be on the other end of these calls? Elvis arranging a secret comeback tour? Jimmy Hoffa revealing the location of his ‘final resting place’? Amelia Earhart, calling for a late check-in?

Now Freddy, being the professional that he is, decided to pick up the roaming handset to see what the fuss was all about. On the line, he reportedly heard strange whispers, ghastly echoes, and disconnected sentences in various languages, some he thinks have been long extinct!

Incredibly, Freddy believes these otherworldly exchanges didn’t stop at just voices. Describing one particularly strange incident, he revealed that ‘Dial-A-Song’ began playing through the receiver! The eerie tune seemed to be a remix of an age-old melody with modern techno beats. Did our phantom phone booth unknowingly breach into the secret cosmic SoundCloud of alien DJs? How groovy!

As if that wasn’t spooky enough, stories soon started trickling back with tales of anonymous text messages. “Got any ghost stories?” read one. “New RIP, who’s this?” came another. And the spine-chilling “Are you receiving me over?” Clearly, the spectral world has a twisted sense of humor.

The tale of the Phantom Phone Booth spread through the county like wildfire. Before you could say ‘Boo’, the little booth in the desert had become a hotspot for paranormal enthusiasts, sunset seance seekers, and late-night prank callers. One group even claimed to have a spectral speed-dial to the late-great Liberace, who reportedly shared tips on sparkle care!

So next time the phone rings, maybe pick it up with caution. You never know who could be on the other side, or for that matter, from which side the call is coming! Then again, if it’s Elvis, do tell him we’re all shook up and waiting for his comeback tour. As for now, the phantom phone booth and its mystery calls remain a chilling, hilarious, and echoingly fascinating condundrum waiting to be solved out there.