Ghost Thread

What's up with the thread that has no title, can't be viewed, yet the view counter says 2?

I tried to post a screen shot to illustrate, but evidently I am not smart enough to do that. x:D

Comments

  • 16 Comments sorted by Votes Date Added
  • Cool. A ghost thread. Probably posted by ML Smith himself. From beyond...
  • Notice how it has mysteriously disappeared and nobody from MLS has acknowledged it?

    Interesting.
  • Sometimes when we move a thread from the "How to Use the Employers Forum" area to a more appropriate, more well-traveled section so it can get more views, our system leaves part of the posting behind. At that point, you will indeed see basically an anonymous shield and a blank screen left behind in the How to Use the Forum section. Your friendly Forum monitors (most of whom aren't tech gurus) then ask Jim Robb (who is a tech guru) to work his magic and get rid of the litter. That's why the thread's remnants seemed to vanish. tk
  • It was more fun when you ignored my question. Made the whole "ghost thread phenomenon" seem mysterious. Thank you for explaining though, tk. x:D
  • Ok, I have the fire lit and a box of graham crackers, Hershey chocolate, and a bag of marshmellows.

    Go ahead tell me moe about the ghost thread.
  • Well, it is a very scary thread indeed!

    In its first life, it was a farm wife in the early 1800's. Her husband mysteriously disappeared while plowing the fields. When he didn't return for a tasty supper of corn pone, dried beef and strong coffee, she went to the field to give him holy he## for being late. All she found was the plow with a sticky substance dripping from the blade, and one boot, laces still tied.

    Well, her first thought was.... (you take it from there, Paul)
  • "Aw democrats, who'se gonna plow these fields now?"

    Then she ambled slowly back to her warmly lit farm house, tossed the one boot onto the pile of other mismatched boots and began rifling through her desk drawer for a pen and the life insurance paperwork.






  • She nimbly began filling out the paperwork, almost as though it were second nature. For a moment, she paused, and thought, "I could save 10% or more on my car insurance by switching to Geico!"

    Soldiering on, she began to dream of how she'd spend her fortune (with the appropriate amount of grief expected from a widow, of course).

    (take it away, kids)
  • After completing the life insurance forms, she went into town to get another black dress and vail and to place an ad with the local press: Widow and property owner seeking good man to help with farm imnprovements. Boots optional.
  • Well that explains her farm yielding more bushels per acre than the surrounding farms.
  • As she departed the newspaper office she walked past the Long Branch Saloon and Beauty Parlor, and heard an all too familiar laugh echoing through the half empty bar; she quickly dashed through the swinging doors to see her unexpectedly living husband swilling whiskey with a barmaid/hairstylist parked on his lap! The nasal slime from the plow horse was still visible on his shoeless right foot. When he spotted her he quickly.....
  • ...ducked behind the rather large barmaid/hairstylist.

    But... it was too late. His wife saw him. She had that look in her eye that he's seen many times before, and he felt panic roiling in his stomach, blending with the whiskey, barely unable to keep the whiskey from coming back up.

    The barmaid/stylist saw her too, and said "Hey, Madge! Long time, no see! I've got someone hiding behind me I'd like for you to meet! He just told me the most fascinating story about his ex-wife. She sounds like a real soap!"

    Madge walked in, with fire in her eyes and steam coming from her ears. As she peeked around the barmaid/stylist to introduce herself to the quaking "stranger," she.....
  • grabbed the half full bottle of whiskey and took a healthy chug, slammed the now empty bottle on her not-now-but-soon to be dead husband, stomping on his bare toes just for good measure. "You worthless coot, you could have at least ......
  • ...put the toilet seat back down before you snuck off to the bar! I thought you was dead, or abducted by aliens, or somethin', what with all that slime you left on that plow."

    And with that, she clocked him upside the head with the now-empty whisky bottle, and stomped off in search of another heavily insured, eligible, and easily pushed-around bachelor.

    She lived a long, angry, bitter life, and died at the ripe old age of 92, after having finished off her 32nd husband/life insurance policy.

    Still miserable and bitter, even in death, she haunted the plow, the farm, the toilet seat, and even the bar, forever more.

    The end.

    (I had to finish this one off, since nobody else was gonna do it!)
  • That's because this thread should have 'disappeared' from here and magically 'reappeared' in the HR-de-har-har section.

    I like the finish though. Very HR appropriate.


    Nae
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