More Shocking Confessions: What creeps YOU out?

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frigilux

frigilux

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I didn't want to hijack Sandy's thread on ceiling fans, so I started this one. I think many of us have something that really creeps us out or that we detest. What's yours <br
Mine: Old refrigerators. A thousand apologies to those of you who own and love them, but I have an almost neurotic aversion to them. They absolutely creep me out and I'd store my perishables in a beer cooler full of ice rather than own a pre-1957-or-so refrigerator. I have a hard time even looking inside a 1930's or 40's model. There is no rational explanation for this aversion. I'm not creeped out by any other type of vintage appliance. Maybe I had some traumatic experience with one when I was a tyke. Go figure, huh <br
OK, your turn... <br
 
Lighthouses!

But only if they're lit. With NJ being on the ocean they're not exactly a rarity. Once I took my nephews when they were little to see the twin lights at Navesink in the Atlantic Highlands (incidentally the highest point on the eastern seaboard!). It was on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon, what were the chances? You can climb into one of the towers to the top. We did. The damned thing was lit! It's so high you couldn't tell from the ground. I don't remember climbing down. I don't remember driving home. I don't know how I didn't make in my pants <br
The other thing that mega-creeps me are sundials. I can't even look at a picture of one without shivering. A friend of mine has one in his garden, he puts a tablecloth over it when I visit <br
My ex was afraid of the eyes on potatoes. I always did the buying and peeling. Sheesh.
 
Clowns!

They just give me the creeps. I don't know why, but I have a real aversion to them. <br
Joe
 
For some reason I am afraid of the ocean at night. I can go there during the daytime but at night the darkness kinda freaks me out. I dated a guy that was petrified of fish. He couldnt go into the seafood department at the store without breaking out in a sweat. This is the same one that when we went to the Rock River in VT and we were in the water he saw the fish swimming by me. He screamed out FISH!!! I never seen someone move so fast. It echoed right down the walls of the river. Never forgot that
Then there was the yutz I was with for 6 years that banned mustard from the house. I could not even put it in the fridge without him having a nutty. I used to order a burger at a restaurant just so I can get mustard on the table. Yes I can be evil....
 
Unglazed teracotta plant pots......I can't touch them....even writing this all the hairs on my arms and back of my neck are on end!! Also pumice stone...can't pick that up either....mum had one in her bathroom and I could only move it to clean if I picked it up with a flannel.
 
Electric Heaters:

It's not exactly an irrational fear, but I get very un-comfy around electric heaters that have glowing ribbon elements or coils; I worry about the possibility of fire. My late partner had all kinds of them around (he begrudged running the energy-efficient furnace because "it runs up the gas bill," so he paid Georgia Power hundreds of dollars in Winter. Go figya). He was forever stacking magazines on them and putting the Sunday paper in front of them. He was also capable of leaving the Sunday paper on top of the range; he'd plop the paper down two inches from a burner, turn it on to boil water for something and then walk off and forget the whole shebang, until one day I put my foot down and told him I would leave if I ever saw that again <br
The only kind of space heater I'll have around is an oil-filled electric radiator.
 
Even though I love a gas cooktop---

I would not be comfortable in having an OLD gas range. I mean the ones that look like French antiques, with the tall curvy legs, and the side mounted oven. I know, that if they are properly restored/maintained, they can be safe and function well, but they just <U>creep me the freak out!</U
In other words, no stove older than I am, and I am about to turn 50 in a few months <br <br <br
I don't mind most other old appliances, however, (or would I be here as long as I have been? <br <br <br
One other (of the several) things that creep me out would be crocheted doilies and antimacassars <br <br
Lawrence/Maytagbear
 
Total freak out

is when I attend a funeral for a friend or acquaintance or relation whom I know to have been a kind, caring loving Christian and then you get one of those hateful christianists who preach ultra-nationalistic, anti-women, anti-Obama and anti-gay BS, followed by a gen-u-whine chance to kum-2-jeebus and be saved <br
Been to several since 2001 and they just leave me feeling awful. You can't stand up and say anything because there are people there who really are grieving and yet it just feels awful to see Christianity so perverted <br
I usually am in a funk for two days before and feel awful for a whole week after.
 
For me its the thought of -

A wasp or hornet flying around in my room at night while I`m trying to sleep <br
This actually happened to me one evening while I was trying to take a nap - A yellow jacket wasp was 1 foot from my pillow.
 
Wooden popsicle sticks

Can't explain it, but the texture of a wooden stick on my tongue will just freak me right out! It was always a good excuse to choose an ice-cream cone, too...
 
When my family moved in 1982. I first looked at the house as was greeted by a full set of avocado green appliances. I always thought they were hideous. I later bought a house and found a green fridge in it. It wasn't long until it fell out a window. Another thing for me is white french provincial furniture. I can't see how someone ever thought it looked good <br
Lastly, I remember being scared to death of the furnace in a friends house when I was five or so. It was one of those big gravity warm air things with big octopus ducts. It had a couple doors on it and I thought sure it was going to eat me.
 
dark damp basements

and a unnatural fear of those old blk cast iron sewage pipes wont go in the basement here unless with someone
wierd hu
one reason we installed the new washer on the back porch and bad knees the other reason
 
Whatthehell, One More...

One other thing that creeps me out seriously, major, big-time <br
Open-casket funerals and "viewing rooms." I do not think it's respectful to the dead to pump them full of chemicals, slap more makeup on them than you'd find on Joan Collins and Linda Gray combined, and then put them on view like it was Lenin's Tomb. My own funeral instructions specify a closed plain unfinished pine coffin covered with a pall. <br
The whole nicey-nice business of modern funerals creeps me out, actually. Saying "passed away" instead of "died" - does the euphemism make them any less dead? Or hospitals telling you, "We lost him." That one always makes me want to say, "Well, you'd better find him, and that right quick. <br
It seems that when death is involved, absolutely nothing can be called by its simple, honest, time-honoured name. Coffins have become "caskets." The undertaker's is now a "funeral parlour." A person's body has become their "remains," or in the case of cremation, "cremains," a term I think should be used only to refer to the idea that a cretin is speaking of someone's remains. The barbaric is sometimes made even more barbaric: Those dreadful viewing rooms at the undertaker's are now often called "slumber rooms." Hel-lo-oh - if Grandpa was gonna wake up, he wouldn't be here. Even the dignified word "funeral" is often replaced by "service"; the last time I looked, services were something held in a church, not in a commercial establishment dedicated to mulcting grieving people out of more money than they can reasonably afford <br
There are many good and decent and honest people in the funeral business, but there are also some hell-bent on treating death like it was some kind of red-carpet event, with the only difference being that the star of the show can't take a bow.
 
Surface abusers <br
When I vist someone and one coat (mine in this case) doesn't fit in the coat closet, and when every horizontal (and often vertical) surface is filled up with every manner of crap iget crazed. <br
If I have to move 10 things on the coffee table to place my beverage down, I get skieved out beyond belief.
 
I'm not sure what creeps me out... <br
I used to detest wasps. They don't freak me out as much as they used to. But, if I put out traps early in the spring, I can catch alot of the queens and they won't invade my sheds. I'm always ready with the can of Raid <br
I suppose another thing I don't like is old basements. There's an antique shop I like to go to and it's in an old OLD apartment building. The three upper floors are ok, but the basement is not in the best shape. The stairs leading down are creaky and old. There's exposed bare wall where the plaster has fallen off. It's dusty and has that 'basement odor.' It's quiet and all you hear is water dripping into the sumps...drip...drip...drip.. <br
I've found quite a few great items in the basement, but I really really don't like going down there <br
~Tim
 
Clowns

I dont like clowns either or those tongue depressers.They make my tongue depressed.I dont care for unglazed pottery.I do like old fridges though,mine is eighty and I often think of all the different foods that have been stored in it and how excited the people that bought it must have been and Im sure they are gone now.
 

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