The Spud
There's a story to this one...

The house in which I spent my youngest years had a little lane running behind it - effectively, a second driveway - providing access the rears of the houses along my road. Next door to us lived a couple of girls a little older than me and my brother; and their grandmother used to be all kinds of nice to us. She did, however, warn all four of us about The Spud.

The exact nature of the Spud was left unclear - but the important bit was that he lived down the lane, and was dangerous. As a means of keeping small children from disappearing off down said lane, the legend of the Spud was phenomenally effective. I was terrified to venture more than a few houses down (which was odd, considering that by the age of 3 I was being sent off on errands to the grocer's shop half a mile away... but there you go). I never went down the lane, and certainly not on my own, probably until I was at junior school.

How did I picture the Spud? About 6 foot, white, and segmented. In other words, while at infant school, I was terrified of the Michelin man.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:16, Reply)

Bleagh
Sick. As in vomit.
I hate being sick (when you reach that bit where it feels like it will never end), and have managed not to throw up in about four or five years. Quite a feat.
I will go to any lengths to avoid being sick. Usually just sitting up straight swallowing lots and drinking water.

I also hate othr people being sick as it makes me feel extremely ill. I will even run out of a party if someone merely says "Pass me the bucket!"



Also, my brother makes this noise like eegleeegleeegleeegl that makes me scream and run away in absolute terror. Dunno why. Just does.
(CakeCat, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:12, 5 replies)

THIS IS A FRONT! BEWARE!!
THE B3TA OVERLORDS ARE TRYING TO FIND OUR WEAKNESSES! DO NOT TELL THEM YOUR WEAKNESSES!!

*fashions hat from tinfoil*
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:12, 11 replies)

Great
I didn't have any phobias until today, but now I'm absolutely terrified of
being stuck in a room full of polystyrene, chewing gum,
coriander(?), seagulls, cross sections of macaroni cheese(?),
spiders(blah), snakes(blah), liver, clowns, horses and ..........
............
............
you lot!
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:11, 1 reply)

Flat pigeons
I've usually got little time for the rats with wings anyway but the sight of a frisbee pigeon that's been rolled into shape by several buses and trucks invariably brings the gorge up.

It baffles me. I've killed and butchered farm animals, had my hand up various animals during calving and cheerfully eat offal but the bundle of feathers by the side of the road just sets me off.
(paxvobiscum, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:11, 1 reply)

Mine is spiders, which is boring...
... but my friend Martin has a weird one.

When I was a wee young nipper of 15 I was sitting on a bench outside the Geography department of my school, eating my sandwiches. The quintessential student, I was - munching on packed lunch whilst skipping a detention (probably).

As it happened I was a slob and crumbs from my sandwiches were raining upon my legs, one of which was crossed over the other in the intellectual pose of the deep thinker or the poof. Suddenly I heard a voice in front of me:
"Matt..."
It was Martin, with ice-cold fear wrapped around his words; a boa constrictor suffocating his voice.
"... your leg," he mumbled quietly, still petrified.
The same fear stopped my heart - Martin, too, was scared of spiders and I was sure if I looked down I'd see an eight-legged monstrosity, fangs bared, ready to plunge into my calf. I steeled myself, and looked down.
There was fuck-all. Grey school trouser with specklings of white crumbs collected in the creases.
I looked back up. "What?"
"I can't look at it, Matt, it really freaks me out," he said, eyes shut.
"What the fuck are you on about, you crazy cunt?" I said (probably in those exact words but I can't guarantee that).
"Crumbs in a line," he replied, completely serious. "I do NOT like it."

I mean, what in the actual fuck? Not just a fear of crumbs, but crumbs in a line?! It's not like they're in military formations or lined up with a malevolent intent, they're just caught in the crease of my trousers.

Fucking twat.
(MJPerry was crude but clickable at, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:11, 2 replies)

Fruit based phobias
Specifically, pineapple.

I *hate* it. The smell nauseates me to the point where I could cheerfully (OK, maybe not cheerfully) vomit if I come within 5 paces of the damned stuff. I kid you not, one whiff of it, and I gag. Our local has an acoustic night every Tuesday, and sometimes they put pizza and sandwiches out on the bar. One night I made a grab for a slice, but in the half-gloom didn’t notice that it was layered with pineapple…

I can feel the saliva building in my cheeks even thinking about it. ‘Scuse me…

*Barfs*

Actually, just fruit in general doesn’t do it for me. I went strawberry picking once (I was dragged along because it was a fair bet that I’d be the only fucker that wouldn’t eat them as I went). As we drove back, punnets of freshly picked strawberries nestling on the parcel shelf, I got an almighty headache. Yep, the smell of strawberries gives me a headache… How lame is that?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:10, 4 replies)

also
just a prediction. The most common phobia that you hadnt thought of before that will emerge over the next week is 'cotton wool'.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:09, 6 replies)

Matches
You know when you get 2 matches in the box joined at the head - conjoined matches?

That.

Fucking terrifying.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:09, Reply)

Pogonophobia
We have a trainee with Pogonophobia. It was hilarious. There's me, sat at the front desk, said trainee takes one look at me, screams and bolts out the door. I was rather confused until we later found out they have Pogonophobia and then I laughed my arse off.

Pogonophobia for those who do not know is a fear of beards. I look rather like a viking (I need to shave its much to long/bushy just now, but even then I'd still have a beard beecause I'm not getting rid of it. Its very useful - keeps my face warm up here in the far North, strains my soup, keeps my face cool in hot places, and pleases the missus no end)
(Teran Thinks Pogonophobia is funny, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:08, 1 reply)

Electric Drills.
Probably brought on by my childhood experiences described in last week's qotw, the sound of an electric drill boring it's way through masonry sends a shiver down my spine every time.

I'm okay with drilling into wood or metal, but masonry? No thanks.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:08, 1 reply)

Them shit wooden forks that you get at some chippys.
They're horrible! I hate eating with one of them, I'd rather use my fingers. Makes me cringe just thinking about biting into it.
(Xstopher, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:04, 5 replies)

Fecking Wombles.
The knee-high fuzzy little bastards scare the shit out of me.

Those Beady eyes filled with deceit.. Pointy noses that wrinkle in an all-knowing way... and flappy ears that you KNOW are picking up your every move.

They hang around in secretive gangs ready to attack. Just because They haven't attacked yet doesn't mean they won't...

It's because of them that I carry a big fecking torch when I walk at night. A Big Fecking torch and a lump-hammer.
.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:03, 2 replies)

Fingers + Face = Fear, Paranoia and Freak-out
Anyone lightly poking my face so that they are barely touching it send me into a panic fit, the lighter they do it, the worse it is. I cant cope with it, it makes me unable to breathe and I feel like I'm gonna pass out. I stopped telling people when I realised that people are bastards, and they will do it to see the subsequent freakout and me batting at my face like a spakker angry with his own nose.
I thought i was alone in this strange condition, but when i went to Uni I found someone else with this weird streak in them. As a result we have spent many a strange afternoon sitting in front of one another lightly touching each others face at the same time to see who would 'break' first.
It truly is a game with no winners, just two very sad, demented looking losers....
(Formaly Over say's hello, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:02, 7 replies)

I used to work with someone
who had a phobia about Scotch eggs. not eggs, not breadcrumbs, not processed meat, but a combination of the three.

what a stupid attention seeking cunt.

My phobias? well not so much phobias but more irrational hatreds, such as outie belly buttons, the hideously deformed fizzog of Steve Bruce and Paris Hilton.

the world would be a better, safer place without them.
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:02, Reply)

Crimplene
I hate that stuff so much. I avoid old people like the plague, just in case. The way they rub their shiny, crocodile-skinned old hands up and down their horrifically crimplened legs makes me want to barf like a pissed up teenager. And the sound. AAARRRGGGHHH!!! I've often thought of having my teeth removed just so that I don't have to feel them being on edge.
(porkylips looks better as the sun goes down., Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:01, 1 reply)

Lots
I used to work with a guy who was afraid of Kiwi fruit. He claimed it was something to do with fruit having hair, but he was fine with peaches.
He literally would not come into a room if there was a Kiwi there, so one of the other lads at work who lived in the same block of flats used to spend his Saturdays throwing kiwis through his open bedroom windows.

I despise the feeling of tearing cotton wool. When my son was born we used to use damp cotton wool to clean him after changing him, it came in big rolls, and I used to cringe when I had to fetch some, tear it and wet it.

My ex has an un-natural fear of belly buttons. If I was lying on the couch or something, and for whatever reason my belly button was showing she would freak out. Now this was fine if I was fully naked or without a shirt, but a belly button poking out in the middle? "COULD YOU COVER YOU BELLY BUTTON PLEASE K TNKS CALL ME WHEN IT'S DONE AND I'LL COME BACK INTO THE ROOM". I would love to say she found it amusing the day our young son (He was 14 or 15 months at the time) decided to climb up on the couch and start sticking his finger in my belly button. Nothing quite like seeing your SO running to the jacks for a sneaky vomit.

I know quite a few people that are freaked out by the thought of bare feet.

I am wary of penguins. I don't like the way they look at me. I know they are planning something. I bet those vicount minty biscuit things are in on it too!
(oeb, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:00, 1 reply)

A wooden spoon
Or anything wooden for that matter. Even the thought of licking it or rubbing it on my tongue, gives me and outbreak of goosebumps and electric shocks down my back.

This can also be applied to any furry fruit, such as peaches or kiwis.

The only way I can regain any semblance of control is by imagining I’m licking jelly or ice.

I’ve no idea where this phobia comes from…..
(Deskbound You insignificant speck of dust, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 14:00, 2 replies)

I've a fear of
repeating mys...oh, bugger.
(Eds Meds Mathskillz=1,Socialskillz=0, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:59, 1 reply)

Clowns?
I have no problem with them now, but, when I was little... yikes. I seem to remember a nightmare from when I was about 3 in which they featured heavily. (As did a fox - but, hey...)

The Dr Who story called The Greatest Show in the Galaxy was one of the best when I was 11 (or thereabouts), just because of the clown connection.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:59, 4 replies)

Liver
not my own, the stuff the butcher sells.

The texture, the colour, the smell (I've no idea what it tastes like) just make me boak.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:59, 5 replies)

I've a fear of
repeating myself
(Eds Meds Mathskillz=1,Socialskillz=0, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:59, 5 replies)

Internet Violence
Stuff from rotten.com et al.

I once, years ago, watched a video of some poor Russian soldier getting his head cut off with a spade.

Had nightmares for weeks. Since then I've never sought stuff like that again and, if I accidentally come across stuff like that, I look away and close the page before I see anything.

Fictional or reproduced violence I can watch all day long and not turn a hair. But knowing that what I'm watching is real and that some poor bastard is gasping his last (and in incredible pain) is just something I can't tolerate. I empathise too much.

So there's a lot of famous stuff on the Net that I've not seen (Ken Bigley's execution springs to mind) and, too be honest, I can't understand people who *do* watch that stuff. I mean, what kick do you get out watching someone's suffering?

Meh. I'm too soft.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:58, 10 replies)

Coriander
An aquaintance of mine has a crippling fear of corainder. It's not that she dislikes the taste... She thinks it moves funny, and follows her. She is even terrified of the leaves being put on anything. The shape reminds her of death, apparently.

We think we should put flat-leaf parsley on her food to see if she can tell the difference...
(Rotten_Cointreau is a proper scientician, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:58, 1 reply)

polystyrene
is evil. Evil, I tell you.

It doesn't matter if I pretend that I'm okay with it - the moment my skin brushes it, my visceral reaction is to recoil shivering with my teeth bared as I suck air into my lungs in a high-pitched shriek.

Squeaky evilness.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:57, 1 reply)

Two things...
Sand - Specifically when there's a thin spreading of it on the pavement I'm walking on and it makes a spine shuddering "crunch" underfoot. I'm not too bad walking barefoot on a beach full of sand, but I have to get every last bit off my feet before I return to hard surfaces. I also dread it getting in my food at the beach because of the same crunch you get between your teeth.

Also

Pigeons - Ever since I was slapped in the face by a French pigeon (or more accurately a pigeon in France - I never checked it's passport) I'm much more wary of the filthy flying rats. It's embarrassing but I've been known to stop dead and flinch as one flies towards me.
( e.m.m.y. foxtrot uniform charlie kilo india tango, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:57, 6 replies)

At last a qotw I can contribute to.
Unfortunatly I'm too bloody busy - Pah!

Oh the horror!
( girlinthehole, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:57, 2 replies)

Fear of milk
Once upon a time in infant-school back when I was aged 5 or 6 (possibly even 4 - I really don't remember). I saw one of my classmates puking. Because she had just been drinking milk, it came out all white. Now, I had seen puke before, but completely white puke ... something inside me just freaked out. Within a few days, I had become so appalled by this that I point blank refused point blank to drink any milk at all. All my cereals had to be without milk. I still ate milk-products such as butter. This actually went on all the way until I was aged 19 when at uni, I was offered some cornflakes with milk and not wanting to be the un-cool kid, accepted it, and the rest, they say is history.

Although I like milk when it's drowning cereals, I still don't like drinking a glass of milk on it's own. Even today, if I see somebody drinking milk, it makes me feel a bit sick on the inside.

Needless to say, my trip to Mongolia was interesting, and not wanting to offend the locals, I even tried a few sips of Kumis.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:56, 7 replies)

Cutlery
Not, you know, just sitting there, spooning away.

(four pronged bastards, just waiting to poke prick penetrate, um stab me)

But when I'm eating, I cannot, just can't, have the buggers touch my teeth. Doesn't seem to both Mrs Fireflier - she just clunks away merrily as I grimace.
( Fireflier La la la la, not listening on, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:55, 1 reply)