Allergic to Beer?

Woe is me!

I am forced to conclude that I am allergic to something in beer. I love beer, especially Czech beer, but it hates me.

Last night, I had four glasses of beer with a friend. This morning, I am dizzy, throbbing headache, my right eye is swollen up and my sinuses too and I have a sore throat on that side too. In short, I feel pretty crappy to say the least. I have been getting this sort of reaction to most beers this last few years but this time is the worst. If I drink wine, whiskey or anything else, I am fine so it really is beer.

My father suffered the same fate. The older he got the more beer seemed to dislike him. A pint of Fosters Lager was about all he could manage in the end without a similar sort of reaction.

So I am afraid that I must now stop drinking beer. Aging is such an insult.



God Visited My Blog Last Night

I had a visitor to my website over night. According to his email address his name was God.God at to be precise.

However, based on the content of the message left to greet me this morning, God had very little to do with it. I had thought about reproducing the content of his email here but I won’t. The person who wrote it belongs to that small group of people who feel that God has given them permission to hate and take retribution. Just like the people who are ISIS, beheading and killing for God, this, I suppose ‘christian’, believes he represents God and God’s will and uniquely has the power to identify his adversary.

I feel sorry for these people. God is love and love knows no bounds. The kingdom of heaven is inside of us as each of us is a small part of the One. This is why we should love one another as we love God. We must also recognize that God is everything and is therefore both God and Goddess. God is also good and evil for not to understand that God is both sides of a two-edged sword is to acknowledge that there must be a duality of Gods. There is not. There is simply One.

The email I received was pure evil hatred and abuse – of me, my writing, my very being, along with the Jews, thrown in for good measure I guess. It is a tired and familiar firebrand, fundamentalist, bucket of bile and hatred. Nothing I nor most people would associate with God or love at all. I feel sorry for its author and I wish him well and hope he finds the love he is crying out for in his current condition of reddened mist of anger, hate and racism.

People are Funny

People. We are a strange bloody lot don’t you think?

There is a woman down our street who we often meet walking her dog. If we have our dog with us too she will cross the road to avoid us glaring the entire time. What is bizarre about this is that dogs like to sniff each other don’t they but her she protects her dog from contact with all others muttering to herself and glaring her glare at other dog and owner. Why?

Today, I made a comment on a global warming story. I expected a reply or two it is par for the course but the reply I actually received blew me away. It said “Look mate, I have an O level in science and I got that O level by answering CO2 to a question so you knows I knows all there is and you can’t argue wis me.” OK. I guess I lost that interaction then.

The last time I flew after the plane landed most people in aisle seats stood up. More or less everyone waited patiently for the doors to open and the line to start to move. As the aisle person left, the middle and window seaters got out before the next row started. Not the man behind me though. He pushed and he shoved from his middle seat opposite me grabbing me and pushing me out of way and doing the same with an older woman in front of me. She and I exchanged that glance you do under such circumstances. He was 3-4 people in front of me still shoving and pushing his way to the exit. Of course, he fell down the plane steps and had to be given medical attention. I checked on him and while waiting to make sure he was OK, was rather surprised when his wife joined him. I don’t get it? Why push and shove people out the way abandoning your wife in the process? Guess only he knows.

Me? Yep guilty as charged. I can get pretty mouthy if I feel impeded by bureaucrats. The wisest move would be to stay quiet but damn it, I cannot abide people in uniform who think that gives them the right to be rude and officious! I am sure a few folk have looked at me and thought me totally off my rocker too.

Funny thing is though, it is these little moments of idiocy and stupidity that makes like fun isn’t it? We look out for the strange dog lady these days disappointed if we don’t meet her. Life is as much about people’s eccentricities as anything else.

Real Ghost Stories Online

Tonight, one of my stories – Medium – from My Haunted Life Too was featured on the Real Ghost Stories online podcast (January 27th edition).

Real Ghost Stories Online is a website that does a show via podcast available on iTunes. According to the site, the show is a combination of interviews, verbally submitted ghost stories and written ghost stories sent to us by listeners all over the world. 

It’s very professionally done and really a great listen. The website is filled with great features too. I recommend it.


Tonight’s podcast is available on iTunes and will be also available below – don’t miss it. Medium begins at 16:55 in the podcast.

Battle Cry! (From My Haunted Life 3)

Here is a short story from My Haunted Life 3 – out now on Kindle…..

My Dad told me this creepy story several times when I was growing up. His childhood wasn’t so great and so he liked to escape at weekends or whenever he could. His best friend, Jack, and he, loved to cycle, camp and hike around East Yorkshire and that’s what they did just anytime they could. It was the years directly after the war and there was little traffic or other people to bother them.

One night, they pitched their small two-man tent in a farmer’s field near Long Marston. They knew very well that, in the vicinity, many years ago, a battle had taken place there during the English Civil war – The battle of Marston Moor. It was partly why they were there as they both had a love of history as well as the outdoors.

They retired as dusk came as they were heading back in the morning and needed to get up early to allow sufficient time for the trip. Cycling all day is tiring and so they had no problems sleeping.

Around 1am, a hand shaking his shoulder woke my Dad up. It was pitch black. As he awoke he heard Jack’s voice,

“Nev, Nev, do you hear that?”

Dad listened and to his amazement he could hear the thudding of horses galloping, men shouting and screaming and the clash of steel on steel. This was taking place in a thunderstorm and was accompanied by the sound of rain, thunder and huge flashes of lightening. He was horrified.

The two of them sat in the dark listening to what he described as a cacophony of battle sounds all around their little tent in the field. They dare not move. They dare not look outside the tent. They simply sat there wide-eyed with cold sweat dribbling down their icy cold necks listening to the sounds of a Civil War battle in a thunderstorm going on around them.

As soon as dawn began to break, the sounds faded. They got up, skipped breakfast, and got out of there as soon as they could. The field was totally empty when they finally summed up the courage to leave the tent.

The experience obviously had a big impact on him because he would often tell my brothers and I the tale of the night the Battle of Marston Moor took place. I think what had shocked him more was that, when checking up on the battle years later, he discovered that it did actually take place in a thunderstorm.


If you enjoyed this, why not buy one of the My Haunted Life series? Or, if you would like to write a review of one of these books on Amazon, I will gift you the book (provided you agree to sign up to my mailing list and promise to write the review!). You can buy one of these Amazon supernatural hits below;

My Haunted Life

My Haunted Life Too

My Haunted Life 3

Your Life is One Big Lie

One of the central themes of all my writings – even the My Haunted Life series – is the nature of reality and the role that we may play in dictating that. Over the last twenty or so years (if not my entire life really), I have read, meditated on, studied and discussed this topic and the process I have come to several conclusions. One of these is that I now believe that much of our world is an illusion.

It’s easy to draw analogies with movies like the Matrix here and I and others often do but what I mean is a lot of what we think we know isn’t real. It isn’t truth nor fact. I once said (and thought it was rather cute) –

The more I think on it the more I realize that certainty is an illusion. History was written by the winner, the news is provided with a spin and other people are opaque. We know nothing for certain. It used to be that the internet might provide information,but it too is now nothing but opinion and scare mongering. Nothing can be relied upon. We have to look inside ourselves for anything of value – anything that can be relied upon – but it too is colored by our ego and personalities.

So in the end, if the past is a colored view and the future a fancy, what do we have left?

Simply to live in the moment…..” (The Mystical Hexagram (Vasey & Vincent, 2012)).

Life is an enigma and I may never actually understand the answers but I do know this. Everything that we take to be true is probably not. Let me give a few examples;

1. History – history is written by the winner and it reflects a perception or view of what happened. There are alternative histories for everything and the sad thing is, they are all colored by the same issue.

2. Education – Education is partly about providing certain tools – reading, writing, critical thinking, analysis – but only in limited degree. The rest of education is essentially to ‘brainwash’ you with cultural normalities, cultural convention and to ensure you don’t actually challenge the system. Most people accept what they are told as the gospel truth and never for a minute stop to think critically or analytically about things. In this way, the illusion is maintained.

3. Religion – While all religions are probably based on wisdom and spiritual truth, they are all and without exception, subverted to match someone’s political or cultural agenda. They become the basis by which people can be manipulated and controlled.

4. On a more mundane level, the music or entertainment industry can be used to prove its all illusion too. Many singers can’t sing (they use computer software now to ensure perfect pitch), many musicians can’t actually play, many live performances are lip synched. It’s all a lie (It didn’t used to be). Actors and actresses public personas are creations and false often nothing like the reality. Show business is really all a show – an illusion – just like everything else in your life.

5. You are bombarded day in and day out with messages – some subliminal and others in your face – buy this, eat this its good for you, holiday here and so on. The marketing machine uses our ability to imagine and visualize – a rudimentary skill though it is in the  majority of us) and uses OUR magic making ability and equipment to have us make THEIR reality. Our magic has been hijacked!

I could go on and on but I won’t. Don’t ask me who the THEY might be. I have no idea and I am not a conspiracy theorist – that’s just another fantastical dead end. That there is a THEY – whether THEY actually know it or not, I am sure.

I also have concluded this. Given everything turns out to be illusion and that I cannot trust anything, then I must turn to the only thing I can rely on – me. Unfortunately, I have to first clear the Me of all the nonsense I have been conditioned with and am bombarded with daily. As Mark Stavish terms it – I must know my own mind. This is far from easy and may not be attainable at all but I can make progress towards it and, in doing so, I can take control of my life and my reality. I can be a true mage and imagine my thoughts into reality. Of course, I also live in other people’s realities too and I must learn how to interact with their parallel universes too.

You know, if the outer world we call life is an illusion while the inner world is real then surely, the Kingdom of heaven truly is within us and faith – well, it can move mountains.



What are You Going to do for Lint?

You are thinking “Ha, Vasey has a typo in his blog post title” right about now aren’t you? Well, actually I don’t. I just unloaded our dryer and scraped out the hunk of lint from the filter to place in the trash. It set me thinking and so I did a little research and I was right. We have a lint problem. You won’t hear about it in the mainstream media nor on the BBC because unlike ‘global warming’ it doesn’t have the potential for money making, global taxation and one-world government. But I will make a prediction. Mark my words as you read it here first.

Here we go…

In 20-years from now global temperatures will be pretty much where they are today and CO2 levels will have well surpassed all those nonsensical targets meanwhile our oceans and life in them and out of them will be dying from plastic poisoning.

Yes, all that fibre (2000 strands from one wash of one pullover apparently) goes out of your washing machine, down the sewer and into the ocean where it accumulates as it is not biodegradable. It enters to food supply of the bottom dwellers who fill their stomachs with the stuff and, well the rest is about food chain isn’t it. And all of this could be stopped by legislating manufacturers to put proper filters on the washing machine drains. Easy. The frightening thing is that there is little or any money for proper research into this but the study done back in 2011 should have been enough to sound the alarm bells.


Meanwhile, we are told that CO2 is a pollutant and vast sums are being spent on the impractical trying to stop CO2 from entering the atmosphere. The geological record shows us that actually, the world’s atmosphere has always held significantly more CO2 than it does today, that temperature and climate change continually due a number of known factors and that the relationship between temperature and CO2 is the inverse of what we are told to believe. I.e. CO2 follows temperature. Perhaps more importantly, CO2 is the gas that plants and trees use to photosynthesize producing Oxygen in the process and at 280ppm of CO2 they suffocate (we are currently at around 400ppm). By the way, saying 400ppm is a way to make a minute number look much bigger to you – it is actually 0.00004% – miniscule compared to the 18% it once was in the Earth’s geological past!

So, let’s get this straight, while ‘scientists’ and politicians like Al Gore have their heads stuck deep in the pig trough of money that is the global warming fallacy, for the lack of a filter, we may poison ourselves and the biosphere out of existence!

Sounds about par for the course doesn’t it.

The My Haunted Life Trilogy – Final Book

My Haunted Life started off as a book idea to help broaden my readership (from magic to paranormal) and to utilize material from my blog supplemented by new stories as well. The first book – My Haunted Life – sold well and is still selling well and it prompted the idea for a second book – My Haunted Life Too. The second book went out only in Kindle format and it too is selling well.

Well, in the book world, things usually come in three’s and so yes – a final book in this series is in the works with the rather unique and obvious title… My Haunted Life 3! Like its two predecessors, it is a collection of true short stories of strange experiences in life; both mine and others. These are not just ghost stories but stories of strange coincidences, poltergeist, weird incidents and other such glitches in the Matrix of life. They will make your flesh crawl and are probably best read in daylight hours. They will also make you think about reality and the way that we create it.

My Haunted Life 3 is already available for pre-order on all Amazon sites. I can tell you that it has some super stories in it – I wrote them recently so I should know right? I will likely feature one or two of them nearer its release but for now – catch a look at this cover! I think it is the best yet.

my haunted life 3

The final iteration in the My Haunted Life series will likely be to combine all three volumes as a paperback collectors issue. I suspect that will happen in March or April so until then, grab your Kindle versions on Amazon.


Medium – From My Haunted Life Too

There was a time growing up when I became quite fascinated by spiritualism. The idea that a person could communicate with the dead—actually see and hear ghosts—was of great interest to me. This was an interest that my mother was actually willing to share with me, and so we ended up taking a couple of trips to a spiritualist church in Hull, England. These sessions were always characterized as demonstrations of clairvoyance, rather than speaking with the dead; but that is exactly what these people did.

On our second trip, my dad decided to stay at home, muttering something about it ‘only encouraging weird activity,’ but he was always interested in what had happened at the meetings, of course. He was, I believe, quite right. It did encourage the strange, ghostly activity that was going on in our house at that time, and it also made me more open to strange phenomena.

Attending a spiritualist church as a teenage boy was interesting in and of itself. The first thing I noticed was that the vast majority of my fellow visitors were female and well over the age of fifty. However, by contrast, the mediums were often younger people. That evening, it was quite a full audience for the demonstration as the medium was highly regarded, and he apparently attracted a more diverse audience. He was two or three readings into the evening when his eyes met mine.

“Young man,” he said.

I gulped and likely flushed, as all eyes suddenly stared at me.

“I have a man here with me in spirit who would like to warn you about that motorbike that you have. He is showing me that you will have an accident, so be careful. He is young, this man, and he is wearing motorcycle gear. He passed some time ago, though,” said the medium.

To be honest, I could barely speak. I just nodded acknowledgement, and the medium duly moved on to his next ‘victim.’

Of course, I was consumed with my own thoughts for the rest of the demonstration. We thought that the young man could have been my dad’s brother who had died long before I was born in a motorcycle accident; and yes, I had just recently bought a second-hand Honda C70 motorbike.

At the end of the meeting, both the medium and the organizer approached my mother and me. The organizer knew us and lived in the same area that we did. It transpired that the medium wanted to spend some time with me. He said that he had some things he wanted to tell me, and so, could I come by the next day around 2 p.m. for some tea?

We went home and told my dad what had occurred. He was understandably a little upset at the idea of his brother coming through, but he agreed that I should go for the tea and see what the medium had to say.




The next day was actually very disappointing at the time. I had fostered this idea that somehow the medium would tell me something really important, meaningful and deep. In fact, we simply sat in the backyard drinking tea and eating cakes, just chit chatting for about an hour or so. After that, the organizer suggested I should leave so as not to tire the medium, who would be giving another session later that day.

As I was about to leave, however, the medium looked at me and said, “Do you write at all, Gary?”

“Not much. Why?

“Well, I just wanted to say that you will one day write a lot.”

“Okay, thank you,” I replied.

“One more thing, Gary.”


“Be open.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked, somewhat puzzled.

“Be open to spirit. They will write through you. Don’t be afraid. It will feel quite natural. It may not happen for many years yet, but it will, and I think that you might just sit from time to time with a pen in hand and a bit of paper and see if it happens.”

“Thank you,” I said again, feeling a bitter sense of disappointment. Was that all?

Apparently, the medium put on an uncharacteristically poor showing later that evening. He was tired from meeting with me, he had claimed. I didn’t understand why that should be so, nor really why he wanted to meet with me. At the time, I didn’t believe that he had told me anything very much of value at all.

About six months later, I visited the University of Hull. They had an open day for prospective students. I was seventeen and looking forward to going to university, so I went. Driving back home on my motorbike, as I accelerated away from some traffic lights, I suddenly saw a blur jump out in front of me. I braked as hard as I could, but I hit whatever it was. I heard the yelp of agony as I did so, and then I found myself sliding along the street at about 30 mph, until the handlebar hit a pothole and threw me away, gashing a hole in my knee as I went. The bike was messed up, I was okay (although bruised and bleeding), and the poor dog was dead. I felt bad. I felt terribly guilty for killing a dog. I also felt very fortunate that the light had turned red behind me, and I wasn’t run over by a car.

I remembered the medium then—what he had said in the message—and I understood that this was a sign.

Now, I do indeed write. I write a lot. And the spirits? Well, they do come through. As the boy in the movie said, I see dead people.

This story and others like it in My Haunted Life Too. Out Now!

my haunted life too final cover




The Chess Piece (From My Haunted Life Too)

A friend of mine once told me this story on a Halloween many years ago. It chilled me to the bone. Whether it is true or not, I am not sure, although he swore on his mother’s grave that it was.

In the late 1970s, the central cemetery in west Hull was a real eyesore. It was overrun with trees, bushes and weeds, and it was used as a place for all sorts of illicit activities. Most people gave it a very wide berth indeed. Many of the graves in the cemetery are Victorian, and they are grandiose monstrosities of a bygone era. It is a pretty damned creepy place in fact. These days, the whole area has been cleaned up, tidied and is actually worthy of a visit. However, back then, it was a place to be avoided if at all possible.

My friend was walking home, somewhat tipsy, from the pub with a couple of other friends that night in the late 1970s. They thought it might be scary fun to take a trip through the cemetery. Who wouldn’t? They decided to walk across it, and while picking their way between overgrown and fallen tombstones, heavy undergrowth and trees, to their horror, they came to an area where many of the graves had been tampered with. Whether for theft or some other macabre reason, in this area in the middle of the cemetery lay scattered bones and open graves with coffins and contents partially exposed. Horrified, the three friends began to hurry, totally creeped out by the place and what they saw there.

This is where it gets interesting, however, because at this point, my friend accidentally kicked something as he moved as swiftly as possible through this darkened field of bones. To his utter horror, he realized that it was a human skull as he watched it rolling away into the undergrowth.

He told me that in a moment of pure madness, he decided to take it with him. Gingerly picking up the skull, he ran with his two friends to the nearest way out of the creepy cemetery. Having escaped from the cemetery, he stuffed the trophy skull in his bag, and they all went home.

When he arrived home, he took out the skull and examined it. It grinned back at him and was in good condition. He was actually quite proud of his fearlessness and, with some satisfaction, he placed the skull on his bedside table for further inspection and cleaning the next morning before he passed out to sleep.


Awakening the next morning, instead of the skull that he and his friends had collected the night before, he was shocked to find a large, carved ivory chess piece sitting on the table. The chess piece was carved in the form a man. This freaked him out no end. Where was the skull? Where had this come from? He later confirmed with his mates that he had taken a skull from the cemetery, but that skull was now a large ivory chess piece. The chess piece was even scarier to him than the skull. It seemed to have a dark presence around it and, after a couple of days, he and his friends returned it to where they had found it—during daylight. They left it back in the cemetery where they felt that it belonged.

Did the chess piece turn back into a skull, we wonder? Or did he simply imagine that it was a skull initially? We will never know.

This short true story appears in My Haunted Life Too – available for pre-order now and released on Kindle on 17th December. You may also like the first volume – My Haunted Life – Out now.

my haunted life too final cover