The obvious one - spiders.
I am both fascinated with and terrified of spiders.

Mostly the little house spiders we have here in good old blighty are nicely sized and those are fine. I don't want them on me but they can do what they like, otherwise. Some of them grow to enormous sizes though..... there was one in the bathroom a few months back next to the pan.... I couldn't take my eyes off it, and I nearly fell off the throne when it made a dash for my toes for some reason.

I will never kill them though, as they are beneficial to have around the place and it's only rarely you'll see them. I was attacked by one however :P.... the little bugger jumped (yes, JUMPED!) from the back of the couch onto my shoulder and went down the collar of my t-shirt! I did a fair amount of dancing that day, whilst singing a song that went "OOOH AAAAH AARGH EEEE! GERROFF!"

But the real monsters truly do scare me. I'm going to Oz next year, and it's my hope to see a redback..... I am just fascinated with them. But the things they have over there are terrifying.... the huntsman is like a dinner plate. The white tailed spider is the size of a house spider but can cause horrible effects if it bites you. I remember reading about one that can give you priapism with it's bite..... a massive great stonker of a hardon that won't go away! I wouldn't know whether to rush to casualty or whack on the speedo's and hit bondi beach.

I'm more than a bit nervous about it. I've never known anything else that I'm so afraid of and yet so morbidly fascinated in.

My skin's crawling now.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 17:38, Reply)

Not quite a phobia but...
...the baddy from Who Framed Roger Rabbit... when he melts... 'nuff said.
(Moniker1, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 17:37, 3 replies)

I may be sorry
Down Syndrome- not the condition but people with it. I can't look at them- not even on tv. I can't eat when I can see one either. No idea where it started but I've got an overwhelming sense of unease when i'm around them.

They all look the same! I worry that one day they're all gonna snap and turn into some superhuman army intent on wiping the rest of us out. We'll all be taken by suprise and won't stand a chance at survival.

Due to this I can't be near a group of them without someone to hold onto. Its ridiculous: A 6ft3 guy having to hold onto his friends to pass 2 of them. If i'm alone I just have to turn round. Thankfully I have a car now but I have had to get off buses before to avoid them.

Let me point out that I've never had any bad encounters with anyone with downs and only one of my friends has (She had a scalpel thrown at her!)

Well, I think i'm done now. Off to get new teeth now after grinding them down while writing this.

P.S I'm sure they're just the same as the rest of us really
(bangorip fears all is not well, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 17:20, 1 reply)

I have just realised
that there are quite a few little phobias I have. Mostly they are all quite generic though.

I have a weird thing about getting blood taken. I'm fine with needles in general and having injections is unpleasant but not too traumatic. But take even a teaspoonful of blood from me and I go down like a sack of tatties.

About ten years ago, I had to have several weeks off work with what I thought was bronchitis. A few months later, my cousin cracked 2 ribs while coughing and the doctor diagnosed whooping cough.... well, putting two and two together, for curiosities sake the doctor decided to take a blood smaple and see if I had also had whooping cough, although now it had cleared.

He took it and proceeded to wave the little bottle of blood around in front of my eyes, going on about results and tests and I noticed his voice was..... distant.

I walked out through the waiting room, which was quite busy, across the gravel outside the surgery (crunchcrunchcrunch, crunchcrunchcrunch.... hmmm.... why it it echoing?) got to my car to find my right hand wouldn't work. Tried to open the door with my left hand, but midway through my attempt, something cracked me very sharply on the side of my head. The pavement.

I groaned and struggled to my feet, and as I did so I heard a faint voice. My eyes were all blurred so all I could make out was some blonde hair coming towards me..... "Wow!" thinks I, "That's lucky!" I thought it was my then wife. If anyone else had found me, how embarrassing would that have bee.... oh bugger, it isn't her.

She helped me to a wall where I sat down, but I point blank refused to go back into the packed waiting room and be embarrased in front of everyone. At first, she thought I was pissed, which didn't help, and it wasn't until about a minute later when I regained the power of speech that I managed to say "took..... blood...."

Fortunately, my cousin was passing in his car and stopped to help, so I managed to get a lift home.

Hot sweet tea. Oh the shame!
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 17:09, Reply)

Hairs
Or more specifically hairs in my food. Before I eat anything I will do a little automatic 'hair scan' and if there is indeed a big long hair it renders the meal pretty much inedible for me. If one actually finds it's way into my mouth then anything I have already eaten stands a good chance of making a surprise guest appearance on the carpet.
(Prof. Moriarty put his foot in it on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 17:03, 2 replies)

the usual
Butterflies - My next door neighbour told me when I was really young that butterflies were the souls of dead children... nice...
Twins - I live with one which is fine, freak out when his brother comes over though, their not even identical...
Foxgloves - Used to have them in my garden, until a giant bee came out of one and stung me when I was weeding
Tiny Rectuangular Post-It Notes - Fine with the big ones, put a little one on my desk and I have to remove it to the bin with two pencils used like chopsticks which is why my desk is populated with flower shaped ones, pink ones and green ones, the threat of a big yellow one torn in two is an imminent threat but so far hasnt happened...
(goodmorningbeautiful, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:59, Reply)

Wet tissue
I have an absolute hatred of wet tissue. I think it stemmed from when a wet piece of kitchen roll got involved with a poached egg I was about to eat. Now, whenever I see a piece of sodden tissue, I don't know what to do with myself. And hearing a piece of wet tissue being thrown into a body of water makes my very soul wither.
Also, I hate that funny piece of skin bit that attaches your top lip to your gum, I actually got it pierced to try and overcome my phobia, but alas, I almost fainted after the piercer had finished and it sits in my mouth like a tiny time-bomb just waiting to catch on something. :(
(resurrection_mary cannibal_ferox, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:58, Reply)

Fucking cheese
Probably not the healthiest of past-times, quite sweaty I would imagine. BUT this ain't about sexing fondue, more my pathological loathing for cheese.

Everyone loves cheese. This alone pisses me off, as sometimes, when there be no food about, the cheese eater can simply settle down with an actual CHUNK *retches* of cheddar, and just chomp the thing. I find this unreal, to the point where I get a bit dizzy if I watch people do it.

Some bigger boys gave me £15 to eat a block of blue cheese when drunk. Now, I'm obviously not too well versed in the field of cheese, but I'll tell you what colour a fucking food SHOULDN'T be, and that's BLUE. I eat some, I am sick. That's just the way I roll. I am later informed...and just get this you crazy cats...the stuff is shot through with MOULD. I know! The very nemesis of the sell by date, is here actively encouraged! And gorged upon!

I highlighted this madness to my cheese eating friends; to be quite frank, their response lacked the urgency I was anticipating. This is apparantly OK and NOT A PROBLEM, it even MAKES IT TASTE BETTER.

I despair. Click I like this if you too hate cheese, and end my dairy based isolation.
(bacontrout got ska, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:55, 6 replies)

Sponges and Newspaper..
One of my house mates can't stand to touch sponges, they make her feel physically ill. We got her dish cloths so she can still do her fair share of the washing up though :P

And I, for the life of me, cannot touch newspaper. The smell, the feel, the way the ink gets on your fingers, its just so DRY and DIRTY and STINKY!! And the idea of cardboard being scratched or chewed on also makes my skin crawl.
(Strangemiester, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:55, Reply)

Just me?
I'm not sure whether I'm alone in this particular scaredness...

Whenever I visit a Tesco 'extra' store, I get a tightening pain in the chest and the feeling of Blue & White over-engineered corporate-ness spanging me in the eyes. I'm restricted to using only one hand, as I could swear that I feel the sensation of a conglomerated monstrosity reaching around to delve my pocket and pillage my meek wallet for all its worth, while buggering me senseless with all manner of expensive low quality merchandise, leaving my rectum feeling like I've eaten a tin of value curry.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:50, Reply)

wood lice - eeek!
Yesterday I stayed at my boyfriends and every time we went out for a smoke, I could see these horrible creepy black yukky, disgusting revolting things climbing all over the place on a white exterior wall. It made me cut down on the smoking - they're revolting. I'd never seen so many climbing on walls, I thought they lived under pops and damp places - eeeeeek, I have goose pimples even thinking about it!
( lafleur likes cheese, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:50, Reply)

Anal sex
I really don't see the fascination behind it, I don't ever, ever want to do it. I had a girlfriend a while ago who asked me to try it with her, but about an inch in I had to stop.

I mean, that's where POO comes from.
Yeuch.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:46, 26 replies)

Hmm
This QOTW has confirmed something I've long suspected: EVERYBODY hates clowns. And wasps. Surely in a democracy there should be grounds for both being banned?
( Olembe Refuses to write in this space, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:42, Reply)

Dry sponge
Rubbing a dry sponge with ones hand makes me feel like I'm sprouting hairs on my back and I gurn like a flidmong. I could listen to fingernails down an ethnic minority board all day, but a dry sponge being rubbed makes me do a Hawking.
(Spaff_Quaffer Wise fwom your gwave., Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:27, 4 replies)

Giving birth to a Harlequin Baby
I'm male.

Don't google that if you don't know what I mean.
( Muns, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:24, 1 reply)

Paranormal stories make my eyes water
Whenever I read a 'real life' story about ghosts or UFOs or whathaveyou they always make my eyes water. Even if they have no emotional effect on me, even if im not remotely scared by them, my eyes'll start running uncontrollably.

Not sure that really fits in with the QotW, but while I’m at it, eating cheese always makes my cheeks sweat.
(Dean, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:23, Reply)

Brushing my teeth.
No, I'm not scared of the brushing, that would result in a gobful of festering rot-pegs!

The irrational fear that I feel during brushing is that I'll knock my teeth against the tap when rinsing. I could avoid it by using a glass to rinse, but I'm waaay to lazy for that.

I did try touching it gently to try and 'face my fear' but it didn't work and now I wedge my foot against the bathroom door in case the missus comes in and knocks me at precisely the wrong moment.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:11, 3 replies)

Kind of related...
I've started doing some part time work in a local bar to supplement my income a bit.

Last night was what my new colleagues refer to as "The Land of Leather Sale". Initially i was rather curious as to the menaing of this, I assumed that it would be some sort of convention for sofa salesmen or something similar.

Imagine my surprise to walk into work last night and find the monthly gathering of the local S&M club. Apparently they're all members of a BDSM website that meet up once a month to discuss "things". (I didn't want to know what "things" they were taking about mind you).

You're probably wondering how this relates to this weeks QOTW. Well, I earned a new one last night after listening to a 50 year old wild-haired harridian telling a 30 stone leatherbound biker chap about her fetish for wool clothing "becuase she likes the way it makes her erogenous zones itch"

My job is to provide nourishment in the form of yeasty beery goodness and snacky nibbles. Not to listen to the fetishes of the local Saga holiday camp.

It's just wrong i tell thee!

edit: It's my B3ta Birthday in two days! Happy birthday to me, squashed tomatoes and wee!
(Nuclear Ninja like a radioactive Chuck Norris..., Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:11, Reply)

Puppets larger than humans
I have no idea why but they freak me the fuck out.

A good example are the Easter Island-type guys who pop up in this Supergrass video - youtube.com/watch?v=WXL_Xb0zT5g - horrible things

*hides*
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:10, Reply)

Women.
Women, women, women.

My phobia is females. Theyre all... confusing, and gooey, and nothing makes sence. I so much as brush against one, and BANG im in a hot sweat, in need of a strong asprin.

Spiders, snakes, needles, heights, im all fine with. But women? Ha!

And im assuming (hoping) im not alone...?
(Pointless as a chavs bathroom, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:08, Reply)

Escalators
Not escalators themselves but the section on some where they reach the floor of the next level. I'm always terrified that I'll get my head stuck in there become deaded. For some reason, even though this idea fills me with dread, I always have an urge to stick my head in.

On a lighter note:
"An escalator can never break: it can only become stairs. You would never see an Escalator Temporarily Out Of Order sign, just Escalator Temporarily Stairs. Sorry for the convenience.” Mitch Hedberg

I'm not Mitch Hedberg.
(Fully Goyle what?, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 16:05, 6 replies)

The word 'Cue'.
It really gives me the fear when people use the word 'Cue' every two seconds on the internet.

I mean, why?

"Blah blah blah. CUE blah blah blah. Blah. CUE blah blah blah. CUE. CUE. CUE."
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:58, 5 replies)

The fear of flying.
Why is it, that most of the time we can go in a car, bus, train or a ferry without the thought of whether or not we will reach our destinations alive.

Now.. get on an aeroplane. Which is statisticly the safest method of transport. And the mind goes into overdrive.

Why do I have to work so hard to think of anything else but the plane plummeting to the ground and everyone screaming. I feel like the more I think about it, the more chance its going to happen. Maybe I have mind control abilities I dont know and could somehow crash the plane just by thinking about it? I have even read the ENTIRE easyjet inflight magazine.. TWICE on one flight before to try and keep my mind off disaster.

Take off is the worst. How can a heavy tin can like that defy gravity? Its just not possible. Damn I hate flying I really really hate flying. And with each flight nerves seem to be getting worse rather than better. Why is it planes make different noises with each flight?

Once I was on a flight and the pilot thought it'd be a laugh to turn the engines off mid air. I heard the most dreaded sound you could hear on a plane. And that is the sound of engines spinning down, and felt the plane go slower. I think my soul left my body at that point. If I was harbouring any DVT in my cramped up legs, then the addrenaline just pushed it right out.
Thankfully plane was just slowing down to maneouver himself to land. Time flies quickly when reading the Easyjet inflight magazine for the second time.

My final gripe about flying is this. Which would help the first problem a lot. I travel alone a lot. Why is it they never put me in a seat next to a nice lovely young single girl whos also travelling alone? Nope I get sat next to Fat bastard smelly business tycoon or Werthers Original sucking old granny. Arghhh!!
(Miggyman, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:57, 4 replies)

Dentist 1 Snugglesacks 1
Where the Phobia Began

I was about eight year old and need a filling in my tooth.
My parents take me to our local dentist.
Sitting in the rather large chair with some scary women that smelt like feet looking in my month, telling me I need a filling and a tooth removed.

Queue the biggest needle I’ve ever seen in my life! Being shoved into my mouth with no warning!

“AHHHHHHHHHH! You bitch!”

Queue smack across the head from my dad!

Half way through drilling the worst pain id ever felt in my life!
The dentist hadn’t numbed my mouth properly and hit a nerve!!!

“You (continues profanities ........................ impressive knowledge for an eight year old, common when you are brought up in Newcastle)”

Queue mum and dad pinning me in the chair till the dentist had finished and then being grounded for 6 weeks for the impressive use of profanities!!!

From that moment on I was never going to the dentist again!

10 years later

Needing to go to an emergency dentist and I have the biggest swelling and pain in my mouth I’ve ever seen, and being dragged by my hair to the dentist by my flat mate.

In nothing but a pair of hot pants and a bikini top! (See My boobs story and picture link on my profile)

Enter the fittest dentist I’ve ever seen and the biggest grin on his face as he sat down!

I swear he was extremely pleased to see me!!!

He asked me to relax as he looked at my teeth! Again queue a bigger needle being shoved in my mouth!
This time I decided to fight!
I bit the dentist so hard it took my flat mate and the dental nurse to ply me off the dentist!

Dentist is now cursing and decided to sedate me!!!! Now that was the best thing in the world!

Still I’m never again going to the dentist again but think I should have tried to get his number first before I bit him!

Well that’ll teach them!

Dentist 1 - Snugglesacks 1
Till next time.
(snugglesacks, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:57, 2 replies)

When driving
I sometimes find myself thinking "What would happen to me if I drove into that wall/lamppost/barrier at 80mph?"

And then I get scared that I might actually do it, and have to look away.

I don't know why.

It's even worse on a motorbike, because of a thing called 'Target fixation'. I've found myself accidentally heading for bus stops before.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:56, 1 reply)

Gold (fish) Finger
My bestest pal, S, is a bit of a scaredy cat and is happy to admit it. Unlike me however, who is scared of nothing and no one. (*)


But she loves fish, however, only when they’re alive and swimming in a tank, not battered and deep fried and served with tartare sauce. As a kid, she always had a tank of goldfish, which she looked after carefully and proudly. However, being the squeamish sort, she didn’t really like taking them out of the tank to clean it, as they were a bit scaly and slimy, so she used to get her dad to do it.

She bought a new fish one day and asked was about to clean the tank before introducing him to his new piscine friends. Her dad was busy, and suggested to her that it was time that she got over her fear of fish handling and emptied the tank herself. So, she knuckled down and got on with it, carefully taking the two fish from the tank, getting it all sparkly, then popping them back in. She then took the new fishy over to the tank, removed him from his confines (probably some kind of bag) and let him free…

Only the little fucker was having none of it and jumped clean out of the cup he’d been scooped up in and made a break for it.

Down the back of the chest of drawers…

...that was attached to the wall… There was just enough gap for the slippery little devil to slide down the back and come to a choking halt on the carpet. She could see him flapping about, gasping his last, but was powerless to rescue him.

Subsequently she refused to enter her room until her dad had wrenched the cupboard free of the wall and given little fishy the burial he deserved.

20 years on, she still has nightmares that there are dying fish flapping around behind the units in her bedroom.

(*) Apart from heights, deep water, ferries, tin foil, things with no legs (not like, Douglas Bader, I mean maggots and worms), dying, mushroom soup and John Stapleton.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:55, Reply)

Flying.
Because, well - one is tens of thousands of feet in the air, with absolutely no chance of survival should the plane crash.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:53, Reply)

Hippy Jippies
Cauliflower makes my stomach turn. Not sure where the irrational fear of that vegetable comes from. Its not even the taste its the TEXTURE.

Also, cannot handle other peoples hair, particularly in plugholes or on beds.... Just not right.
(babsbunny, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:49, 2 replies)

Kinda weird
I've a few phobias whi9ch stem back from when I was younger.

The first is fire, my brother always used to play with fire when he was younger and this used to scare me even then, it's quiite weird because I can use a lighter without a problem but if I even so much as see a box of matches on a table I totally freak out. Once I was admitted to hospital for shock when I was living with my ex, who's mother left them out on the table

The second one is dogs, quite straight forward really, was attacked by one when I was younger that nearly killed me. If a dog barks at me I freeze up and panic

The third is the weirdest one of them all - ants. When I was younger I remember laying out in the garden in the height of summer. Halfway through dozing off I felt this crawling all up my arms. I was laying in an ants nest - but this wasnt normal ants - these are the jobbies who sting you (those repulsive red ones). I woke up and looked at my arms and I could barely see any skin for ants - I was screaming and shouting and they started to bite me.

Ever since then if I even so much as see a few ants together I totally freak out

Quite odd really :(
(Nukey, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:48, Reply)

Oh, where to begin...?
First of all, I won't sit on a toilet that already contains a floater, due the the obviously rational fear that it might leap up my bumhole and throttle my brain.

Secondly, I get these bizarre moments of paranoia if I'm ever out with someone and they vanish for a few moments. I suddenly start wondering if they ever existed at all -- like maybe I made them up, Tyler Durden-style, and the only one that doesn't realise it is me.

And finally... I'm terrified of barnacles. No, really.

Dear GOD, I'm a freak.
(Orin delurked to post this gibberish on, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 15:43, 4 replies)