Phobias
What gives you the heebie-jeebies?
It's a bit strong to call this a phobia, but for me it's the thought of biting into a dry flannel. I've no idea why I'd ever want to or even get the opportunity to do so, seeing as I don't own one, but it makes my teeth hurt to think about it. *ewww*
Tell us what innocent things make you go pale, wobbly and send shivers down your spine.
( , Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:34)
What gives you the heebie-jeebies?
It's a bit strong to call this a phobia, but for me it's the thought of biting into a dry flannel. I've no idea why I'd ever want to or even get the opportunity to do so, seeing as I don't own one, but it makes my teeth hurt to think about it. *ewww*
Tell us what innocent things make you go pale, wobbly and send shivers down your spine.
( , Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:34)
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I shouldn't associate with...
..people with strange phobias. It reveals entirely too much about their bizarre psyches.
Take, for instance, my father: 6'5" northerner with overly thick eyebrows, whose habitual look could conservatively be described as "vacantly menacing". Soft as a brush, but no yoof' footballer who he referees would ever know this...and none of them argue with him. Clearly none of them have ever approached him with a cotton wool ball. Apparently it's the sound...the *crunch crunch crunch*...and as for the texture - well I've been ont he planet 20 years, and in that time never have I seen him touch cotton wool. It's a dilemma for a man who loves the smell of Germolene (!) but get near him with the beard of Santa (not a spelling error, I assure thee) and he's out of his chair faster than a Bond villain in the ejector seat and cowering against the nearest wall.
Then there's my brother, who has such a fear of newspaper that he can't be in the same room as a copy of The Times. My boyfriend gave him two bottles of vintage ale for Christmas (nice) but...under the wrapping they were protected by...newspaper! Quelle horreur! Our living room carpet was nearly soaked in Manchester's finest when he took off the shiny paper. He also refuses to eat fish and chips which have been wrapped in newspaper...apparently they "smell of newspaper" and that spoils his dinner.
I also, in my extended network of friends, have met someone who's scared of beards; a middle-aged lady who can't be in the same room as someone wearing a mask; and a colleague who believes squirrels are agents of the devil...
...speaking of the Devil, remember that earthquake a few weeks/months ago (I forget)? My housemate was awake from the beginning (at 1am) until I left my room at 7.30. She called me into her room where I found her cowering in terror under her duvet, convinced that the Devil was shaking her bed "just like in the Exorcist". I had to reassure her and Google the earthquake before she would leave the blankets.
After all this, my fears of evangelists and crying children seem a lot more normal.
*I'm new, please let me in gently :)*
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 19:24, 2 replies)
..people with strange phobias. It reveals entirely too much about their bizarre psyches.
Take, for instance, my father: 6'5" northerner with overly thick eyebrows, whose habitual look could conservatively be described as "vacantly menacing". Soft as a brush, but no yoof' footballer who he referees would ever know this...and none of them argue with him. Clearly none of them have ever approached him with a cotton wool ball. Apparently it's the sound...the *crunch crunch crunch*...and as for the texture - well I've been ont he planet 20 years, and in that time never have I seen him touch cotton wool. It's a dilemma for a man who loves the smell of Germolene (!) but get near him with the beard of Santa (not a spelling error, I assure thee) and he's out of his chair faster than a Bond villain in the ejector seat and cowering against the nearest wall.
Then there's my brother, who has such a fear of newspaper that he can't be in the same room as a copy of The Times. My boyfriend gave him two bottles of vintage ale for Christmas (nice) but...under the wrapping they were protected by...newspaper! Quelle horreur! Our living room carpet was nearly soaked in Manchester's finest when he took off the shiny paper. He also refuses to eat fish and chips which have been wrapped in newspaper...apparently they "smell of newspaper" and that spoils his dinner.
I also, in my extended network of friends, have met someone who's scared of beards; a middle-aged lady who can't be in the same room as someone wearing a mask; and a colleague who believes squirrels are agents of the devil...
...speaking of the Devil, remember that earthquake a few weeks/months ago (I forget)? My housemate was awake from the beginning (at 1am) until I left my room at 7.30. She called me into her room where I found her cowering in terror under her duvet, convinced that the Devil was shaking her bed "just like in the Exorcist". I had to reassure her and Google the earthquake before she would leave the blankets.
After all this, my fears of evangelists and crying children seem a lot more normal.
*I'm new, please let me in gently :)*
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 19:24, 2 replies)
Evangelists...
Everyone should fear them. Help treat your fears with a hosepipe.
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 20:12, closed)
Everyone should fear them. Help treat your fears with a hosepipe.
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 20:12, closed)
"Beard of Santa"
Classic.
Good use of (possibly mock) French-ish too.
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 22:12, closed)
Classic.
Good use of (possibly mock) French-ish too.
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 22:12, closed)
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