Left-Handed People
There's something... I don't know... 'sinister' about them...
(SonoraAeroClub "OH SWEET HELEN OF BALLS!", Wed 13 Apr 2011, 23:19, 6 replies)

"Are you my mummy?"
Gas Masks. There was always something sinister about them. Every time we got told about them in school. I'd always get that tingly feeling on the back of my neck, and seeing them at Duxford Air Museum....well. I very nearly ran myself back to Cambridge.

Of course, after leaving school for a bit. You tend to forget about them. Then some bright spark decides to make them as a creepy little kid in a sci-fi show. And scares me half to death again. (Although it's a great episode....and series.)
(Dante licked your nipple on, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 21:19, 7 replies)

from before the grave
i hadnt spoken my dad for around 12-13 years but one night at 7:45, just as England kicked of in European cup match, the phone rang and it was my dad.i didn't recognize his voice, and as usual said some thing throw away and made a point of saying hurry up cos england are kicking off in a min. stunned silence for a moment, then he replied, "its me your dad i can call back later if you want". another moment of silence and then we started talking, not proper talking, but more a sort of awkward talking. after a couple of mins of this i asked him how he was and his words still linger in my head .
"as well as can be expected, considering the circumstances ". now i don't know why he said that at the time or why it stayed in my head but almost a year after that call he died from a massive heart attack. he never called back or answered any calls i made to him. i think maybe he knew there was some thing very seriously wrong with him, and he wanted to say some thing but couldn't, might have been the way i answered the phone or he might have bottled it at the last moment . we will never know .
but i am glad i managed to get a few words with him and wish that we hadn't separated on bad terms over some thing that was realy silly and not important, but pride and stubbornness run deep and carve many a scar in our family
( fluffybunnykiller Is feasting on the clitoris of life, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 21:18, Reply)

Also this and many other 1970's piffs
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sg6IVUvVsAs

shudderrrr
(gravesy, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 20:03, 1 reply)

Can't believe this was a kids programe
still scares the cack out of me now
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WzJ4yWDNSo0
(gravesy, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 20:02, 2 replies)

Your mum.
Last yet?
(badgermonkey007, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 19:14, Reply)

Oh and...
a picture of Marilyn Monroe in the morgue after she died. Her skin was all mottled on her cheek and her chin had dropped slackly. She looked absolutely nothing like herself in life. The picture was in her biography and it creeped me out for ages. I kept imagining I saw that slack face when I looked up at my bedroom window from outside. Yaaahh.....!!
( Sallyrsm, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 18:02, 3 replies)

the creepiest thing I've ever seen....
is the look on Simon Cowell's face when he first spies his latest cash cow.... he sort of nods and grins and you just know he's gone hard in his high-waisted trousers.
I bet he even got serious wood over Susan Boyle and that little six year old who did Somewhere Over the Rainbow on Britain's got Talent.
Oh and the hairy arms... Like Richard Keys!! Oh the humanity!!
( Sallyrsm, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 17:56, 2 replies)

When perfectly normal dogs
Hunch up their shoulders and put their heads down and stare with wide eyes at a closed door or empty corner. What are they looking at???
(WordsMeanThings, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 17:48, 9 replies)

Only a little creepy.
About a decade ago a friend and I drove down to Cornwall for a couple of days. After a 4 hour journey down and another few hours finding out hat there was nowhere with vacancies we elected to stay in the car in a carpark on a clifftop in Portreath.
After a fitful night's sleep in the car, interrupted by noisy trucks from the nearby airforce base, the sun finally came up.
We left the car and made our way to the cliffe top. After a while something odd happened: The sunlight took on a silvery quality and started to dim, until it almost dissapeared. The gulls went quiet for a second then started to make huge amounts of noise. Everyone on the clifftop was hushed and looking around in awe.
Sadly, the fucking clouds covered the sun at the crucial moment and my family back in Yorkshire got a better look at the eclipse then I did.
It really was a little creepy though.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 17:44, 3 replies)

Jocelyne Wildenstein
I hope she looks in the mirror and likes what she sees. Pictures of her make me shudder.
(TitanLX, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 17:27, 7 replies)

Creepy in a good way
The Fatima Mansions version of 'Everything I do, I do it for you'

When I'm on the bus...

www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3NLPSoU46k


Sorry, it's near the end of the week, I'm out of stories and it's been a slow day round here, it's the best I've got left in me.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 17:23, 1 reply)

When spontaneously visiting friends on winter evenings
I often like to simply stand outside their living room windows, watching them watch telly, until they notice me.

If they're too engrossed, I'll start scratching at the window softly.

I hardly ever get arrested, and when I do they normally come and get me out, unless they have to pay bail again.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 16:49, 2 replies)

My grandparents house
back when i was 7 or 8, me and my brother used to stay at our grandparents bungalow for the weekend(although on this occasion it was just me).this house was built in the 1920/30's,no central heating,open coal/wood fires.so i'm in bed,when out of nowhere,there is a small boy of about 5 or 6 years old next to my bed.he's wearing old style clothes,sky blue shorts and white shirt(not a t-shirt).as i'm looking at him he starts to run at the fire.before i can scream he jumps into the fire and disappears!
At this point i lose it completley and scream the place down,couldn't sleep in that room again until the fireplace had been boarded up.i went back into that room about 10 years later,and it still felt wrong.i often wonder if any later owners had any experiences like i did?
(The man they couldn't spang Got spanged on, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 16:30, 12 replies)

I've mentioned Japanese horror flick, Ju-On
I just watched the trailer and it still shit me up. Especially at 1:25

www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8R1dODSbzU
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 16:20, 4 replies)

When fishing
I will stay late as possible, on my own - in a wood/field as that's when the best fishing occurs.

So you might find me at 10pm at night on a summers day happily singing out loud. Why? - because for some reason I believe that keeps away the ghouls. They leave you alone is you sing silly songs about how innocent you are and that you mean no harm.

I've been fishing at one place surrounded by trees, as soon as I cant focus on anything - my float for example. I realise its too dark and begin to pack up. Then I realise my predicament, a walk through trees and field in the dark. Thing is - I hear footsteps and branches breaking... obviously an over active imagination but still ..


"LALA laa, I'm going now, no need to scare me... lalalala"

I'm such a wuss.

:(
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 16:04, 9 replies)

Midnight, on some beach in France trying to win the affection of this Canadian Lass...
Megan I think her name was. Skinny dipping had been suggested. There were a few of us there. I was vying for her attention. I was doing ok.

Then a swarm of bats flew out of some nearby old WW2 pillbox and the moon was temporarily blocked out from the sky.

Apparently.

I was too busy running away, hell for leather, head down with my gangly teen arms and legs pumping for all they were worth.

I never got a look in and to this day bats still freak me out.

Bastard bats.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 16:01, 2 replies)

Peepy Peepy and Jesus Creepers
Peepy Peepy lives opposite my parent’s house.

Peepy Peepy has never aged in the past 30 years my parents have lived there.

His bungalow hasn’t seen a lick of paint or duster for the same amount of time, but he has two immaculately kept classic 70s cars. It actually seems as though he is trapped in some sort of 70s feedback loop, as his clothes have never changed either.

He has never spoken and used to live with his mum who lived to about 120 (she just disappeared one day), who was the arch-curtain twitcher, hence the Peepy Peepy moniker. She also used to scream and shake her hands at us if we were playing football in the street.

As a child, he was a terrifying character, some sort of Norman Bates-esque nightmare. God only knows what he did with his mother.

Of course, being much older and objective, it’s quite a sad story. He was a social outcast with little or no personable skills and when his father died, had to take care of his mother until she passed away. I guess he clung on to the things that had most meaning and normality for him, like his cars and the way the house used to be.


Jesus Creepers

Lived further up my parent’s road. This was a clear case of someone with Asperger’s syndrome, left to their own devices by the council once his father had died.

Another sad story really. As a child he was this tall (6’9) gangly beast, whose beard continued to grow until he was finally taken into care and terrified the shite out of me.

People used to watch out in the street for him, as if cornered, you’d spend the next hour or so talking about Formula One, which he loved, and other mundane stuff until your eyes bled and your mouth dried up quicker than a blob of spit in the Sahara.

I guess he just wanted someone to talk to. Which makes me feel tragically sad.
(Deskbound You insignificant speck of dust, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 15:38, 2 replies)

Paedo by proxy and others.
All those books, with their soft-focus white jackets of a small tearful child. The stories are harrowing, horrifying tales of abuse, usually with some life-affirming ending. I can see why some survivors of such things would want to get a message out, but it's a bit past that now, isn't it? It seems to have become some sort of porn, greedily devoured by people who just can't seem to get enough of reading about the tings that happened to these people. The sheer number of such books means there must be a huge market for them. Fuck, Tesco even had a whole section devoted to them at one point.
It's not just the subject of these books that creeps me out, it's the industry that's formed around it and the people who lap it up.
( Colonel Boris "...a desperate Buzzfeed imitation...", Wed 13 Apr 2011, 14:43, 47 replies)

Turin Shroud? Pah, try the Willenhall Mattress.
I once helped a young lady move house, seeing as I owned a large van (amazing how popular someone is when they have a large van).
Anyway, all that was left were a few of the big items, including a double mattress. Now, most people I've moved have either had a nice new-looking mattress wrapped in polythene, or have told me they are going to be dumping theirs "soon" if it is looking a bit tired. I can understand that, it's a very personal thing, especially if it is a scabby old piece of junk, covered in cum and piss stains, it's not the kind of thing you'd want anyone seeing, is it?

Well, this lass had a double mattress which was obviously quite old. I don't know if they lined them with lead in the old days, but it was bloody heavy, and it was well past its best, floppy in the middle. I asked if she was sure she was taking it with her, after all, they aren't that expensive for someone well-heeled like her.
Yes, absolutely she was taking it, it had belonged to her Dad, in fact he'd died on it.

Not only that, he'd left his outline on the fucking thing.

I was most definitely a little phased by this, especially as there was indeed the outline of a person on this mattress, seemingly scorched onto it. I asked if she was taking the piss, but she was 100% serious, so I humped it into the van and we took it with us.

The drive from Stafford to Coventry was, um, quiet, to say the least, her clutching a massive rubber plant in the front seat. I tried to broach the subject of the mattress, but to no real effect - she was very matter-of-fact about it, he died on the bed and then they found the mark, so there was no way she was dumping it. It seemed a perfectly normal thing to her, despite me saying little subtle things like "Fucking hell, that's seriously creepy, just where did that outline come from? Have you seen Hellraiser 2?"

Funnily enough, though she was a nice girl (ie. human), all thoughts of trying to knob her in exchange for the use of the van evaporated after seeing the mattress, just in case I ended up rolling all over Dad's outline.

And no, before some clever bastard asks, he didn't fall asleep in bed whilst smoking and burn to death.
(Rsoles, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 14:31, 6 replies)

Paparazzi upskirt, taxi photos.
Always splayed among the red-tops with gusto, pictures of teenage girls' pants while getting out of taxi's, despite rallying against sex offenders, guilty or not yet proven, the rest of the time. Hypocrite, pervert, bastards. Imagine if that was your daughter? Apparently a press-pass means this is ok. No.
( SauronWibble I'll hold it, you lick it..., Wed 13 Apr 2011, 14:30, 13 replies)

Jesus Creepers
with socks.

Socks that have the toe part flapping about at the front.
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 14:22, 2 replies)

Elasticated Comfort Slacks

( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Wed 13 Apr 2011, 14:19, 1 reply)

I get freaked out by water where I can't see the bottom, or where there's a lot of seaweed.
Just thinking about it freaks me out a little bit.

The thought of the cold, slimy fronds wrapping around my lower legs, the fish and creatures that hide in the depths, things ... things with teeth, slime, scale ... horrid.

As for dark water - just - no.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 14:13, 19 replies)

sleestacks
.
(haberman is singing in the changes, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 13:42, 1 reply)

Deaded People
When we went to Peru, we were staying somewhere near the Nazca Lines. It's fairly remote there and for something to do, a group of us decided to visit a graveyard. However, this graveyard was in the desert, and a lot of the graves had been dug up by grave robbers, leaving holes in the ground with just the skeletons at the bottom.

It took about 30 minutes to drive out to this place, and it really was in the middle of nowhere. There were about eight of us and we were the only ones there, except for a man sitting in a wooden hut taking money. We made sure our taxi drivers in the beat up cinquecentos wouldn't leave us, and had a walk around.

The wind was howling, there were teeny, dusty tornados and the looming Andes were in the distance. Add that to the skeletons (some of which still had dried skin/ hair attached), it was pretty creepy. Plus there were bones in the sand we were walking through.

I love being a tourist.
( awayfromthenumbers, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 13:25, 3 replies)

Right here, right now
I've just been out for a lunchtime stroll, and for some reason the town is full of weird, misshapen people with deformed, twisted faces, shuffling about and leering evilly.

More than usual, I mean. It's like the Walking Dead out there. I made it back to the office at a run!
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 13:24, 15 replies)

animated animals....
Not all animated animals but two for now and I get the feeling its becomming a phobia. Anyway the first one I find creepy is that bear off the birds eye adverts. You know when someone opens their fridge to find a small bear with little eyes there who threatens to break their legs if they dont buy the correct peas next time. I mean I seem to be on a strange planet where no one else finds that just wrong. Its not even that part but the end when it cuts back to the bear who says something like "oh and dave.... buy that shit again and i'll cut ya.
Leading on from that, the misses has been watching old reruns of Bad Girls (the womans jail thing) and I have got into it a little as well. Anyway its sponsored by some pharmacy which has a huge cartoon owl wearing peoples cloths.... its starting to get to me.
Oh and to finish this little theropy session the single most creepy shit in the world was that television test card with the girl and creepy clown playing on a black board. Not just that but the constant "booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooop" noise just said to me "the clown wants to cut you up"..... creepy shit.
(snarf81, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 13:06, 9 replies)

Childhood...


This particular tale takes place in the late 60's when the powers that be tore up one of my favourite places and built a fucking school there.

When I was kid the local countryside was dotted with pits. Mines. Some were working, most were not and I lived surrounded by massive slag-heaps from old pit workings. Most of these had been reclaimed by nature and one of my favourites we called the "Bluey's". Short for Blue-Heaps. This pace was a maze of trees, scrub-land, old ponds full of frogs and newts and abandoned tunnels and mine workings. There was also an ancient railway line that ran through it. It was a paradise for kids. Loads of places to hide, build dens and play. But, progress came along and they bulldozed the lot and built a fucking huge school - Lord Lawson Comprehensive - where I later completed my education. But, back to the tale.

I can remember one weekend when me, my brother, and a few of his mates went exploring the half completed school. For some reason I was very wary of this trip. Not unusual as I was usually very wary when in my older Bro's company. It was a rare trip with him when he didn't do something evil like shoot me, lock me in somewhere dark, try and drown me or stick me inside a metal drum and roll me down a hill. The usual stuff.

Anyway, this particular trip, one of his mates who was with us disappeared for a while. Then we heard blood-curdling screams and suddenly this bloke (Billy Guy was his name) appeared from inside what looked like a giant pressure-cooker and I almost had heart failure.

His hands were blackened scaly claws and his face was the same. Black, scaly and flaking. He looked fucking terrifying. I took off like a bat out of hell. I was never a fast runner as a kid but that day I probably hit 60 miles an hour uphill and didn't stop running until I hit civilisation. Houses. A pub. Adults. Someone who could call the police, the army and whatever else was needed to fry that fucking horror. I'd never been so scared in all my life (and with my brother that was saying something). Eventually Steve found me and persuaded me not to call in an air-strike (I was about to call the police) and then, for once, they told me what they'd done.

Billy had coated his hands and face in soft mud and then let it dry in the sun. As it cracked, it gave this scaly appearance and it was that what had scared the living shit out of me. Bastards.
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Wed 13 Apr 2011, 12:57, 4 replies)