Spider guts
Nasty, horrible, multi-legged things. As soon as something moves in the corner of my vision, I feel my heart race and the adrenalin starts racing.
I can just about calm myself down enough to get rid of the ones that have really thin legs and move slowly. Anything bigger or faster and I lose over my arms and legs and it's 50/50 as to wether I beat seven shades of snot out of them with whatever is to hand, or run away and sit in another room for a bit while someone else kills it.

I think the most irrational part about this is that I then can't touch, or even look at, the thing used to kill the offending arachnid, like it's splattered parts would come back to life and start trying to crawl on my hands.

And now if you'll excuse me, I have to not think about this for a while.
:edit:
After reading Scaryduck's post about the end of the world I remembered that I don't fear the apocalypse one bit, it's something I'm actually looking forward to. Yet a stupid fly-eater any bigger than my thumbnail gives me the hoojahs.
Does anyone know the number of that hotel with the lovely padded rooms and tight overcoats?
(ex-rat, Wed 28 Jan 2004, 1:04, Reply)