Want to know where one of the most haunted houses in the world is? The Lemp Mansion right here in St. Louis is listed in the Top 10. The once powerful Lemp family created a beer brewing empire, only to have their company crumble from Prohibition and a string of family tragedies. Johann Adam Lemp (pictured right) came from Germany and started a grocery store and grew that business into a beer brewing company. It used to stand near where the Gateway Arch stands today.
After his father’s death in 1852, William Lemp continued the tremendous growth of the brewery – which took up five blocks in downtown St. Louis. In 1876, William bought the mansion his father-in-law built and renovated it from top to bottom. From the basement of the mansion, William built a tunnel that led through caves to the brewery. Caves were often used as refrigeration centers, but later William built a grand theatre, concrete swimming pool, and a bowling alley down there. In 1901, William’s favorite son Frederick died at the age of 28, William became a recluse. After losing his eldest son, William was never the same. His mental and physical health began to fade. On February 13, 1904, William Lemp shot himself in the head with a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson. Tragically, Frederick’s sister Elsa later committed suicide with a revolver in 1920, but not at the mansion.
William Lemp Jr. took over the company. He fathered a son from one of his extramarital affairs, and he kept this illegitimate son locked away in the Lemp Mansion’s attic. The boy had Down’s syndrome and was kept away from society, and the family referred to him as “Monkey Boy.”
After Prohibition, the brewery was shut down in 1919. William Jr. seemed to fall into a depression, like his father, and on December 22, 1922, William Lemp II shot himself in the heart with a .38 in the family mansion.
In 1943, his son William Lemp III died of a heart attack at the age of 42.
Charles Lemp, William II's brother, eventually moved into the family home. Charles (pictured right) also took care of his brother’s illegitimate son that had been kept in the attic. “Monkey Boy” died at the age of 30 in the mansion, and Charles’ mental health continued to deteriorate. On May 10, 1949, Charles Lemp shot his beloved dog in the basement with a .38 revolver, and then shot himself on the staircase to his room.
Edwin Lemp, William Jr. and Charles’ brother, had lived a quiet life in Kirkwood, MO. He didn’t move into the mansion, and he died of natural causes at the age of 90 in 1970. His butler, acting on Edwin’s final wishes, burned every single Lemp artifact.
With all this tragedy occurring within the walls of the Lemp Mansion, it’s understandable that subsequent owners and employees would experience paranormal activity. When the mansion was first made into an inn and restaurant, workers reported seeing apparitions, a feeling of someone watching them, objects being moved when they weren’t looking, and strange sounds. People would quit immediately, refusing to return to work.
There are three areas of the mansion that seem to be “hot spots.” They include the attic, the staircase, bedroom, and the basement – now called “The Gates of Hell” by locals.
Here’s a quick list of just SOME of the reported activity:
The attic is haunted by “Monkey Boy.” People have reported seeing his face in the windows, objects moving, and footsteps. (Notice the picture of the attic on the right - the middle of the floor in that narrow attic is very worn. You can almost imagine the poor child pacing back and forth up there).
The downstairs women’s restroom used to be William Jr’s study. There, women have reported a man peeking over the stalls, only to find the restroom empty.
In William Sr.’s room, people have reported hearing someone running up the stairs and kicking the door. It’s said that when Sr. shot himself, William Jr. came running up and kicked the bedroom door down to get to his father.
A tour guide heard horses neighing and galloping towards his window. It was just a parking lot, and there were no horses there. When the lot was expanded, they found evidence that the area just outside that window had been used to tether horses.
Childrens’ voices have been heard throughout the house. One guest heard a child say, “help me” over and over again. And another visitor heard, “Come play with me” several times. The bar area has had several incidents as well. Workers have witnessed glasses lifting into the air and moving on their own, voices coming from nowhere, and the piano playing by itself.
As you can imagine the “Cherokee Cave” running underneath the mansion is also quite haunted. Sounds of weeping and strange sights have been reported. Long before the Lemps built their mansion, it’s said that a young American Indian couple, hid in the cave and starved to death – and that story was verified when white explorers did find bones of two people in the cave (near Jefferson Ave. and Arsenal for you St. Louisans). There have been many ghost hunters and researchers visiting the mansion and trying to find evidence of it being haunted. Needless to say, they don’t have to work very hard to find it.
Here are some EVPs (Electronic Voice Phenomena) recorded by The Ghost Investigators Society out of Kansas City. You will need Windows Media:
Can our loved ones who have passed send us signs? Is there a way for them to give us just a little reminder that they are still around us? Or maybe it's all just coincidence and these occurances feed off of our need to believe our loved ones are near. Regardless, the death of a friend is a profound loss, particularly through the eyes of a child.
Here is a story submitted by Obilon, a fellow blogger.
It was the 1970s (as if that were not spooky enough) and my parents were divorced. My mother had some single friends that were like a second family to me, and we spent a lot of time with them. "Mary" was one of my mother's closest friends.
Mary had found a boyfriend she really loved, "Gary." They dated for a few months and things were going well. I met him a few times and I thought he was a cool guy. He had this fascination with seagulls. He bought Mary a framed poster of seagulls flying and it read,"They can.. Because they think they can." She hung it in her apartment, and it had special meaning to both of them. Gary always said that when he died he'd come back as a bird.
Things were going well with Mary and Gary. However he had been harboring a secret life. He was a criminal. One night Mary got a the worst phone call of her life - Gary had died. He had robbed a local store at gunpoint and was shot by the police. He died that night. Mary was completely devastated.
A few weeks later, my mother and Mary were at Gary's apartment getting some things that she wanted and some of her belongings. The entire time they carried boxes from the apartment, a little white bird sat not too far away perched on the building, watching them intently. The bird just sat there watching them like a tennis spectator as they went in and out of the house. They tried to shoo the bird away but it refused to go. It's stubborness convinced Mary the bird was Gary visiting her one last time.
It doesn't stop there. Not long after Gary's death, I was walking down the hallway to my bedroom, and I was looking at myself in the full-length mirror at the end of the hall. Suddenly my vision got very blurry and a misty white glow appeared between myself and the mirror, clouding my view. It was oval shaped and had a "vibration" to it. I stood frozen in fear, and I dared not move until the mist disappeared. I was pretty frightened immediately afterwards, but then I thought that maybe it had been Gary's spirit. I think that Gary, despite his criminal life, was in essence a good person. Perhaps he was visiting me to say one last goodbye or just checking in to see if I was OK.
I very rarely think of my experience even when other people tell their ghost stories, since it was so long ago. I don't ever offer that experience up. Something made me think to write that down and share it.
Ever have a dream literally come true? Is it prophecy? Or perhaps it's a case of simple coincidence. Here's my own personal experience with a dream becomming a terrible reality...
I was a high school English teacher for five years, and I got to really know so many young people. (For you St. Louisans, that's Marquette High School in Chesterfield below). I was fortunate enough to hear about the lives of teenagers - the good, bad, and lots of ugly. Life happens to all of us, but it affects adolescents in a deeper way. One of my favorite students was Carlo, a freshman. He was not an 'A' student, nor was he particularly studious. Carlo just had such a great personality, and he was liked by everyone. Although soft spoken, he had a ton of friends.
I had another student, Erin. This girl loved to talk. Erin was good friends with Carlo, but she was in a different class period. One day we were reading the Langston Hughes poem, "Dreams" when she raised her hand. I grudgingly asked her what she wanted, as Erin was notorious for trying to get me off topic.
"Do you think dreams can come true? I mean, like you have a dream, and what you dreamt actually happens in real life."
What did this have to do with Langston Hughes? I thought. Of course, Erin had to continue...
"I had, like, the worst dream ever. And I've had so many dreams come true, that I'm scared this one might come true too."
I was intrigued, and I could tell by her face that she was sincerely troubled. "What was your dream?"
She closed her eyes. "I dreamt that there was a big car accident. I wasn't in the car, but there were four of my friends't inside, but I couldn't make out their faces. I saw the car all messed up, near some trees, and I heard a bunch of screaming. One of my friends died, that I know for sure. I tried to see who it was, but for some reason, the dream wouldn't let me see. I woke up crying. It was horrible. It was SO real."
Erin continued talking about the repercussions of the death at school. Students were crying, word of the death spread throughout the school, and her active mind kept trying to find out whom had died. The dream apparently kept that fact from her. It was a morbid dream, a nightmare really. The class had fallen silent. I assured her all was ok, that it was just a dream. She didn't buy it, I could tell. But we had "Raisin in the Sun" to begin reading.
Four weeks later, I received a call from one of the assistant principals on a Saturday night. There had been a terrible car accident. A car with four Marquette students had slammed into a tree, and Carlo was in critical condition. He was in an induced coma, as he had severe head trauma. Doctors literally kept him in ice, but the brain swelling never stopped. Carlo was declared brain dead three days later. His parents removed him from life support and donated his organs on May 1, 1998.
After the funeral, I hadn't connected Erin's dream with Carlo's death. It wasn't until we were going over "Raisin in the Sun" again for final exams when one of my other students, Matt, blurted out, "Do you remember when Erin told you about her dream? You think it was Carlo's accident she saw?"
I looked over at Erin. I was too stunned to say anything, as I had forgotten all about her dream. She decided not to do her usual stunt of getting me off topic, and she remained silent. I let the class murmur die down a bit before taking a deep breath. "Yes."
Ever have a really bad feeling about something? For example, have you ever met someone and got a "negative vibe "from that person for no apparent reason? How about places? Maybe you've had this strong feeling of dread when you're in a specific room of a house. Some call this instinct, others say it's our "third eye." Yet skeptics believe it's all just our imaginations.
Here's a story from one of our fellow bloggers that wishes to remain anonymous...maybe you've had a familiar experience yourself...
My grandparents live in an old town in Washington and have an old, two-story Victorian house. They know that there have been renovations over the years… staircases added or deleted, additional rooms, etc. You can see some of the places where changes have been made because there are steps up and down into room or strange little nooks.
One of these places is an upstairs closet that had once been a stairwell. The second floor didn’t have full ceilings except in the hallway; the three bedrooms and several closets had sloped ceilings with standing room in the centers of the room and some of the storage areas are even part of the attic. This one closet in particular had a curtain across the opening instead of a door and the ceiling sloped down into darkness, just as it would have when it was a staircase. I remember when I was a kid, me and my brothers played hide and seek upstairs and sometimes used that closet as a hiding place. I always got a freaky feeling when I was in that closet, even with the sunlight shining through the curtain. I remember always looking over my shoulder. I could only hide there for a few minutes before I had to get out. The feeling was hard to describe but it just felt wrong. It was a vague feeling that something just wasn’t right.
My mother’s family has a history of being sensitive or psychic. My mom is especially sensitive, and she also felt something off about that closet. She got the strange sense that maybe someone had been hurt when the closet was still a stairwell. She thought perhaps a child had fallen down the stairs or had been locked inside of it (in old houses like this one it was customary to have doors at both ends of a flight of a stairs). Not only did my mom feel something was wrong there, but my grandfather and grandmother had also felt a weird vibe around "that closet."
One summer, my mother had gone to visit her parents for a couple of weeks. When she arrived, my grandparents were both sleeping in a downstairs room they had converted to a temporary bedroom. They normally slept in the bedroom upstairs. She asked them why and they both said they couldn’t stand being near that closet. Apparently, the same freaky feeling that we had all complained about had gotten stronger. That feeling of dread seemed to be growing, just as a putrid stench begins to eminate from the source and infect the rest of a house. First, it had just gotten strong enough so that you could feel it when you passed the closet. Then, it got stronger and had "spread" to the two bedrooms and the end of the hallway. That’s when my grandparents moved out of their room. My mom usually takes the bedroom at the other end of the hall when she visits. Now, she could feel the bad feeling all the way down the hall, almost to her own room.
My mother, as well as being very sensitive, is also very religious. She tried ignoring the feeling for most of her visit, just as my grandparents had been ignoring it because they didn’t know what to do. But my mom finally got fed up.
She said, “I locked myself in that wretched closet and I prayed as hard as I could.”
I don’t know how long it took and I don’t know what she prayed to god for, but she prayed until she could feel a change in the bad feeling. After that, the bad feeling eased in intensity and gradually went away. My grandparents moved back into their upstairs bedroom a few weeks later and they’ve never had a problem since.
A medium... a person thought to have the power to communicate with the spirits of the dead or with agents of another world or dimension. Also called psychic.
Communicating with those that have passed away is an intriguing and controversial subject. I had a previous spooky post that dealt with this subject. In that story, the man's dead grandfather came to him during extraordinary circumstances.
But what about those that claim to have the ability to communicate with spirits every day? Mediums say they are able to somehow reach out to those whom have died. And in their work, do mediums ever see glimpses of heaven? We've all heard about stories of the afterlife...a world of paradise, joy, and peace.
What about glimpses of hell? Lucy claims to be a medium, and she's just started to blog about her work. I've been in contact with her via e-mail, and she has been kind enough to allow me to showcase her post about a world that doesn't seem like paradise at all. It's a peek into the other side of the afterlife...a world I hope none of us every find ourselves.
FAQ: Have you ever seen Hell?
I think so... although it wasn't like fire and brimstone or devils and such. Let me tell you about it...
A woman came to me for a reading. She said the deceased man she wanted me to contact had done some rather regrettable things in his life - which I will omit here. When I tried to contact the man - it came in stages. At first, I could feel utter confusion, panic, feelings of being utterly lost. Secondly, I saw him in a tattered business suit - it was grey with a white shirt and I'm not sure what colour the tie was. Next, I saw his wrist, he was handcuffed to a briefcase. Then finally came the vision that I certainly will never be able to get out of my head. It was a world of grey rock, black sky, like the surface of the moon I suppose. The terrain was very jagged, and it looked like a mix of lime-stone and perhaps concrete, crumbly yet hard to the touch. I could smell that there was a fire nearby (yep, you can smell in these visions), and it wasn't cold in this place- nor was it hot. It was warm, room temperature.
The man wasn't suffering because of the terrain, he was suffering because he was lost. There was an odd lighting in this place, kind of like the lighting at night at a car dealership - you know, well lit by high-up spotlights? But you couldn't see the light sources. This man had no idea he was dead, that was the scary part. He thought he was still alive and had to get home - and he had to keep the contents of that briefcase safe. He never showed me what was in the briefcase, he guarded it very carefully "with his life".
He didn't communicate very much to me because he was in a hurry to find his way. I could sense his desperation. He wasn't angry, frustrated, or any other easy emotion - it was all fear and anxiety, but mostly fear."Where am I?" He kept asking, although I wasn't sure if he was asking me. I told him that he was dead, assured him that he didn't have to stay there, but he wouldn't hear anything of it. He had somewhere to be, and he was important. (After the session was over, I reconnected with this vision briefly - although I tried very hard to stay in it - which was probably a big mistake - and saw that he was still wandering.)
His "sins" on Earth had probably been too much for him, the woman said. My opinion on the matter is that people who do bad things generally beat themselves up over it. This man regretted, and his remorse was keeping him hostage until he's ready to come to terms with it. The feelings of utter loneliness I sensed in him were unbearable.
The impression, unspoken, that I got from this place was that it was created by something other than himself, but imposed by himself... and that it wouldn't be permanent, but he had a long ways to go. I got the impression that there was love behind this place, but also a great dark warning: do bad things that you know are wrong, and you'll spend a lot of time making it up to yourself.
Another impression I got was that he felt as if the persons that he'd wronged in life were watching him. Yes, there was a horrible feeling of being watched by vengeful eyes and listened to by angry ears. Lastly, this place was almost deafeningly silent, apart from the man's own breathing and heartbeat - and the occasional slight avalanche of tiny pebbles. And there were no stars in the black sky.
Is this hell? Or maybe some type of purgatory? It all depends on your religious and spiritual beliefs. Maybe the person who submitted this story is just making it up. Again, it's your call. You can read more of her amazing posts on her blog: Dead Coversations.
Residents of Brixton in South London say local squirrels are addicted to crack. How could this have happened? Police there have made extra efforts to arrest crack dealers and buyers, and the criminals have resorted to hiding their stashes in neighbors' lawns and flower beds. The squirrels are accustomed to finding their own stashes in the ground, but it seems crack cocaine has replaced nuts.
One local witness told The Sun: “My neighbour said dealers had used my garden to hide crack. Just an hour earlier I’d seen a squirrel digging in the flower-beds. It was ill-looking and its eyes looked bloodshot, but it kept on desperately digging. It seems a strange thing to say, but it seemed to know what it was looking for.”
Fellow residents back up this person's claims by saying that they too have noticed squirrels acting strangely and more aggressive.
The RSPCA (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) had this to say about these allegations: "These animals are big foragers. They are attracted by smell and will dig up what they fancy."
Similar "reports" out of Washington D.C. and New York City have been deemed myth and urban legend. Only time will tell if the South London stories are legitimate. I guess if they see the little furry guys beginning to attack each other in an attempt to "protect their respective turfs," then I would say that Brixton's got a problem.
Reports of squirrels going crazy are not new, and as you can imagine, squirrels are quite capable of finding some sort of substance that affects their brain chemistry. Here a few incidents involving really messed up squirrels:
Drunken Squirrel Kung-Fu...How pathetic. This squirrel has found a beer bottle and drank himself nearly to death. He probably beats the Mrs. at home too.
Gone Postal Squirrel...Apparently, this one has gone berzerk. Is he all hopped up on meth? Just say no, buddy. Put the gun down and return to being the horny little fuzzball that you once were.
Bacchanalia Squirrels...Speaking of horny. Geez, why have a full-blown orgy in the open like that? I think they found Grandpa's Viagra in backyard.
Park rangers and an anthropologist were busy beginning to excavate the body just Wednesday. The body was laying face down, and hikers in the Mendel Glacier area could see the body's head and arm protruding from the ice. This area is extremely remote and takes several days for even the most seasoned ice climbers to reach.
It's an unbelievable discovery, and they hope to unravel the mystery as to whom this man is. "It's almost a snapshot in time," said Dr. Bob Mann, deputy scientific director of the Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command, based in Hawaii. "This crewman, whoever he turns out to be, he's somebody who went missing 60 years ago."
Prior to World War II, it's known that up to two dozen planes crashed in the Kings Canyon area during test flights. Historians believe that this airman might be the last remaining crew member from an AT-7 plane crash that occurred on November 18, 1942. A hiker found 4 of the bodies back in 1947.
Scientists will work on excavating the body and preserving it. Hopefully, the airman is still carrying some sort of identification, like dog tags. If not, they will do DNA analysis of the tissue. They say it will be a long tedious process of getting his body free of the glacier, but perhaps learning who this poor soul is will bring comfort to the mystery airman's family.
Interestingly, there have been some very monumental discoveries in glaciers and such. Here's a quick rundown of a couple lifeforms "on ice."
Frozen micorganisms...In 1997 and 1998 American and Russian scientists discover a plethora of new microscopic lifeforms trapped in ancient ice from the South Pole.
Wooly Mammoth...Only 50 of these prehistoric beasts have been found, and only 12 have been the entire body. In 1997, an entire mummified Woolly Mammoth was found in Siberian ice. It was removed in October 1999 to a frigid, underground cave where it has been carefully studied.
Oetzi, the original Iceman...He was discovered in the Italian Alps back in 1991. Oetzi was wearing goatskin boots and a grass cape. They also found him with a copper-headed axe and quiver full of arrows. Scientists believe Oetzi was in combat before he died. He had an arrow wound in his shoulder and a wound on his hand.
"Little Baby"...Celine Dion and hubby Rene used in vitro fertilization to conceive their first child, Rene Charles. Doctors were actually able to fertilize TWO embryos, and Celine has kept the remaining embryo frozen. She plans on defrosting Rene's brother soon. "We have a little baby waiting for us," she said. "I don't know if it's good forever but I think it lasts for a very long time. I'll go get it, that's for sure."
Her embryo will go on...and on...
Is that her son Rene Charles or a member of Hanson?
The following spooky story was submitted by fellow blogger Nancyrowina back in 2005. She lives on the Isle of Wight, a picturesque, diamond-shaped island south of Southampton, UK. The Isle of Wight is well known as a perfect holiday getaway and England's most haunted spot. Here, you can attend several "haunted walking tours" and go hunting for ghosts. Being a resident of the Isle, it seems having a ghost story or two is the norm. If her story were to happen to someone here in the States, I believe witnesses wouldn't be as calm as Nancy was during her experience. Here is Nancy's story...
One morning at about 5am I was walking home from my friends house. I was nearly home with just one more corner to turn before I was on my road.
I immediately noticed a man walking towards me. He was quite odd looking - his clothes appeared Victorian and he had a walking cane he was flourishing as he approached. I wasn't aware of any costume ball or carnival near here or anything of the sort. I thought to myself, What a strange old man. Wonder where he got those clothes from? and carried on walking towards him.
Then it got weird...
He was ignoring me and not attempting to make eye contact at all as he got closer, but I wanted to talk to him or at least say good morning as he looked so eccentric I wanted to know why he was dressed that way. I looked directly at his face and smiled when he was about 3 meters away from me. When his eyes met mine he looked frightened, and I felt bad. I didn't want to scare the old guy, but before I could assure him that I wasn't going to mug him -
He disappeared right before my eyes. He had looked so real that I questioned my sanity for a minute, then wondered if he was a ghost. I wasn't scared as much as I was shocked and didn't know what to think, so I carried on walking to my house.
I rounded a corner and there was a family walking down the road. I thought it was extremely strange - bear in mind it was 5 AM. They were all blonde - a mum, a dad, and 2 kids - a boy and girl. They saw me straight away and started smiling, and laughing, but there was no sound coming out of their mouths at all. They all looked very real to me, just as the old man had moments before. Though they were visibly laughing and trying to say something to me, it was as if they were in a silent movie or something.
They walked right up to me and separated politely to let me pass. As I was walking through the path they made for me and saw them all around me...
They vanished too!
I walked in my house, went to bed and thought, I need to get some sleep. I was exhausted and decided that sleep deprivation must've caused me to hallucinate during my journey home.
Perhaps ghosts are always walking among us, I'm not sure. Maybe sometimes certain circumstances create an environment more conducive to bringing the spirit world into our realm. It could also be that there are individuals that are somehow "more sensitive" and the spirits are attracted to them.
I don't know, nor do I care to investigate.
Was Nancy just 'seeing things' because of her lack of sleep? Or maybe Nancy is just one of thousands to have encounters with apparitions on this Isle. They believe that underneath the ground, the "ley lines" charge the electromagnetic field, thereby increasing psychic energy. Isle of Wight is also home to a large ghost investigation team. Encounters with ghosts in taverns, hotels, churches, homes, and even the jail and zoo are simply what everyday life is like for the residents of Isle of Wight.
Fart, passing gas, breaking wind, cutting the cheese, air monkey, anal accoustics, butt burps, morning thunder...there are a thousand different names for flatulence, and it's one of the things in life that we ALL do. But for some, flatulence is a real problem. Until recently, there hasn't been a solution to help those with gastronomical reprocussion issues. May I introduce...
The Flatulence Deodorizer is a charcoal pad that is worn in your underwear, strategically placed to absorb any "poop fumes." The Flat-D is reusable and effective. It's like having your own butt filter! There's no side effects, medicines to take, or any complicated procedures...just line it up with your anus, tape the Flatulence Deodorizer to your underwear, and you're good to go.
Brian Conant is not only the inventor of the Flatulence Deodorizer, but he's an avid user. Brian had retired from the Hawaii Army National Guard. It was there where Brian came up with the idea for Flat-D. During a simulated chemical attack, soldiers were wearing chemical protective clothing. While wearing the clothing he released gas and noticed that he couldn’t smell any odor nor could anyone else. Thus, Flat-D was born!
How effective is Flat-D? Just read the REAL testimonies below:
Josie from Chicago...I remember the desperation and anxiety I felt as one night I searched intently to find a solution to my humiliating problem that was worsening. I came across your website and I purchased the deoderizer. It was the answer to my prayers. I facetiously tell my close friends that many lives of those around me have been spared my body's wrath, but comedy aside I am truly grateful to your company.
Ryan... How in the heck does this work ! ! ! This is AMAZING ! ! ! I work in an office with cubicles and my co-workers were on the verge of kicking my @$$ because of my flatulance.... the Flat-D solved this problem 100% ! ! ! Theres not even a hint of smell any more.... NOTHING ! ! ! I dont know how it works.... but its amazing!
Dawn... It has been much more pleasant in our home since we received the Flat-D. Especially at night in our bedroom. "Fluffing" the covers no longer is a bad thing. Thank you Flat-D, you’re a breath of fresh air. (literally).
Quick Fart Facts: * On average, a person produces about half a liter of fart gas per day - distributed over an average of about fourteen daily farts.
* Foods that "fuel the fire" include: beans, corn, bell peppers, cauliflower, cabbage, milk, bread, eggs, beer, and raisins. These foods contain sugars that we humans cannot digest. When these sugars reach our intestines, the bacteria consume these sugars, and the end result is gas.
* The animal that farts the most in the world is...the termite. Because of their diet and digestive processes, they produce as much methane as human industry. So blame global warming on termites!
Blogging since 2005.
Medical sales warrior by day, writing ninja by night...
I am the author of The Mechanica Wars series. The first book, Dragonfly Warrior, will be published in January, 2014 by 4 Wing Press.
I love science fiction, fantasy, literary fiction, biographies, and chocolate chip cookies.