A (Literally) Haunting Tribute to Joan Rivers

Alex Casey asks whether this really is ‘the end’ for Joan Rivers. //

The world and Donald Trump farewelled comedian Joan Rivers in New York today. A dark day, another shining and oddly taut star gone. For those of you who find yourselves crippled with grief – there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I think I have found a way to summon her ghost into your home. If you jonesing for Joan’s ghost to stand at the end of your bed and rip the crap out of your pyjama fashion, please read on.

Bathe in the river of insults

Bathe in the river of insults

Joan’s passion for exposure, storytelling and ghosties came to a head on the TV show Celebrity Ghost Stories, an essential programme that features celebrities retelling their spectral experiences. By far the scariest part of it, from what I have seen so far, are the wigs that they use in the re-enactments. In the first episode of the show, Joan joins Bill from Kill Bill, Pam Focker (as in Meet The) and Chachi from Happy Days to share her haunting tale. Reader beware, you are in for a mild to non-existent scare.

Many years ago, Joan was at a low-point in her life. Needing peace and quiet, she moved to the heart of a rural country town called “New York City”. She was bankrupt, so could only afford just the one enormous penthouse ballroom. When she moved in to the humble abode, her dog wouldn’t go past the front door and stayed out in the corridor. The ballroom was freezing cold even in the middle of summer, and sometimes graffiti would appear all over the walls. Joan reckoned that there was a ghost.

Recipe for disaster

Recipe for disaster

After talking to her neighbours, Joan found out that a woman called Mrs Spencer inherited the building years ago and spent her life moving up and living on each floor. Only till she died IN JOAN’S EXACT BALLROOM. The lights would flicker every night and Joan would yell down the corridor to her dog “I guess Mrs Spencer is back”. Obviously, the next logical step was to hire a voodoo priestess from New Orleans. The voodoo priestess visited the ballroom one night to hoot, holler and haphazardly pour cornflour all over the floor. Everyone knows that ghosts bloody hate cornflour.

Joan and her spooked pooch

Joan and her spooked pooch

The voodoo magic worked for a while, but then Mrs Spencer returned. At a loss, Joan conveniently found a dusty framed portrait in the basement. She immediately knew that it was of Mrs Spencer because of spidey senses. She hung her spooky framed picture in the lobby of the building, and asked the spirit to leave them in peace. The ghost of Mrs Spencer loved having her picture on the wall. The ballroom warmed up, the pooch came through the door, and eventually the ghost became mates with Joan. For the next 18 years, Mrs Spencer would visit her every night at 3am and stand at the foot of her bed. The end.

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Whatever your stance is on ghosts, I think we can all agree that Joan has definitely found a way to be one. She’s probably already hosting I’m A Celebrity Ghost, Get Me Out Of Here!. After reading about the extravagant demands for her own funeral, I can’t help but feel that her celeb ghost story was a less of a story and more of a hint. Basically, I think that Joan Rivers wants you to hang her photo so she can come and visit. Simply get rid of your cornflour, print the image below, and hang it wherever you want. Seems like a fitting tribute for a woman so obsessed with the pursuit of fame that she went on The Celebrity Apprentice and won.

Rest easy Joan Rivers, please don’t come into my room tonight/ever.


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