From our new issue, Necrononicon!
By: Jesse Saunders
Hey, yep it’s me. The mysterious girl who just seems to like ghosts. I’m back, and wow do I have more words to say out of my mouth. I actually emailed this letter to Teen Vogue, but they sent me back a restraining order and some biting criticism concerning not only my subject matter, but also my grammar and syntax. You might remember me from such other hobbies as hosting at Applebee’s and featuring heavily in 19th century literature concerning the evils of man. That’s not what I’m here to talk about today, though. So sit down America, it’s time we confront something that has been swept to the side for far too long.
Why do all female ghosthunters suck?
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about the 2016 Ghostbusters remake of the classic film starring Dan Aykroyd of Crystal Skull Vodka fame. I’m talking about how on every Paranormal Witness buddy-cop bullshit reality show that graces the Discovery Channel, we get the same concept of failed club promoters trying to disturb dead kids in Gettysburg. What ever happened to good old-fashioned ensemble pieces, solving mysteries with a diverse cast headed by an interesting and dedicated Me? I mean, we’ve got white boys hunting white boy ghosts, we’ve got Vanilla Ice doing anything he can to die, and some goddamn heathen literally just renewed Supernatural for another season while critical darling and sexual awakening Kyle XY has been off the air for almost 10 years. It amazes me that I am somehow the first person to suggest such a daring and brave, and might I even say beautiful and interesting idea. Marie Claire might not understand this issue, but I am begging you to fill the void in my soul and help me fund my most recent thought.
Let’s think about this long and hard, okay? We’re talking fat stacks, high stakes ghost hunting produced by the same people who are making the new Queer Eye reboot. You’ve got three bomb ass people riding around in the Girstmobile (girl’s ghost mobile), you’ve got Vanilla Ice, off-camera, somewhere else, different show, getting pressed with stones. This is the kind of hard hitting drama that will fill the hole for dark political commentary left behind by the first three seasons of Arrested Development, except this time there are also ghosts and I’m there. We can’t forget about the ghosts, though, obviously, because they’re admittedly the real linchpin of this operation. I, on the other hand, am first and foremost an idea person, and that’s why it’s almost difficult to quantify my worth. I want you to know, though, that I’m in the process of copyrighting all of these ideas, and you can’t take them from me now that I’ve told you that. Shark Tank rules apply.
Wanna hear another fun thing about Ghost Girls, though?! The Spirtbomb. It’s like a spirit board, but also a bomb. We couldn’t get the copyright on Spiritbomb, so we just took one of the eyes out. People generally get it. You might say “hey I was reading about that bomb and what the fuck.” Don’t worry, I have a special assistant. Her name is Tacoma Washington, she calls herself a spirit ambassador, and she promised me she knows how to handle spirit bombs and will represent me to any people from Washington. That’s intersectionality. That’s mass appeal on cable television. Now at this point you might be thinking “Oh my god is that a gun?”, to which I would say, “Of course not, it’s just my nearly-trademarked GhostGun! It just shoots ghosts. And by that, I mean it’s a water gun I’ve filled with Holy Water and bug spray and some gasoline.
Listen I’m not desperate. I am, as it turns out, actually amazing. I’m a kind, driven individual, and at least three of my friends will attest to that. Like my friend Liza —she’s British, by the way...well, actually I think her dad’s British, but like, that’s a whole other world compared to my mostly Irish/German heritage.
Yeah sure, TrueTV, The Travel Channel and Food Network all hated my idea of giving women of different ages and accents a job in spraying water guns full of poison around cemeteries and old jails, but that doesn’t mean I’m not smart. My IQ is at least worth the same amount of TV shows that Ryan Murphy’s is! Look, this is your last chance to fund my idea. It won’t be on the market for long, as companies are chomping at the bit to sponsor such a socially driven, television show from a relatively tall white woman, such as myself.
Ghosts are my life, and by that I mean this topic is hot, hot, hot and the money I inherited from my mom’s uncle is spent as fuck! I mean who really wants to be the person 50 years from now who turned down the next Ghostbusters, but this time like a girl and this time also not called Ghostbusters, and also nothing like the Kristen Wigg version, and maybe either scripted or unscripted. You don’t wanna be that guy! So just sign me. Pay me. Give me someone’s number who knows somebody. Or, I’ll GhoKill you. That’s when I kill you so you can be a ghost on my goddamn show.