First of all, there will be no judging here. This is a safe place to discuss fear… unless you’re scared of something like tin foil. Then maybe you need to go sit in your car cause it’s about to get real up in here.
Now, some fears are just silly. Like, how I used to be afraid of the Duracell battery commercials. But some silly fears have been popularized as “urban legends”. And you know why they became urban legends? Same way sterotypes exist. Because there’s truth in them! Not the stupid ones about spider eggs in bubble gum and Bloody Mary and… actually, scratch that last one. I get chills even thinking about it. I won’t even drink something called a Bloody Mary. In fact, I don’t even like people named Mary. But there’s truth in some of the rest.
Snakes in toilets
I have always, all my life, looked in the toilet before sitting down to make sure there are no snakes. If I’m sitting there too long – Which I don’t usually do, because I’m not a man. I go in, take care of business, and leave. – I take a peek every so often to make sure one hasn’t poked its head up while I’m doing my business. I ain’t gonna be violated unless it’s by choice! Snakes don’t know about The Violence Against Women Act. Snakes can’t read. I thought I was being paranoid, until this happened! And this! And this! Snakes popping up in people’s toilets!
I’m scared of heights so when it gets up high, I get nervous looking down. But if I fall backwards, all that will happen is I’ll fall backwards for a few hours until someone shuts the damn thing off. But if you get your pant leg, or especially your shoelace caught, consider yourself a dead man. And if you’re wearing a hoodie and decide for whatever reason to lie down on the escalator, forget about it. You’ve got about 15 seconds to call your mom and say goodbye and apologize for being the kind of dumbass who lies down on an escalator while wearing a hoodie like this guy. There was also this poor fool and this girl with a few less toes.
Wildlife growing in your organs
When I was a kid, my friend told me that her dad swallowed watermelon seeds and had a watermelon growing in his stomach. He had a belly in the shape of a watermelon. It made sense. How was I not to believe that? I spent yeeeeaaars eating my watermelon very, very carefully to make sure the seeds never even so much as entered my mouth. Before I ate it, I would usually go at my slice of watermelon like I was playing Operation until all the seeds were removed.
Now this can’t actually happen. BUT, there was a guy who inhaled seeds from a tree and the tree actually grew in his lungs. That’s worse than the watermelon and if that could happen, what’s stopping a watermelon seed from getting trapped in a fallopian tube and growing into a hearty watermelon baby?
I was scared of clowns before I ever saw Stephen King’s It. Before I ever saw evidence of the damage they could inflict. As a young lass at 4th of July parades, whenever I saw the clowns heading towards us, I’d run and hide (it’s just now occurring to me what a neurotic mess I’ve always been). They were always setting off loud explosions in garbage cans and whatnot and I found it horrifying. With that kind of disrespect, it’s only a short leap to pedophilia and murder. And rape. You don’t come back from clown rape, let me tell you. And if he gets you pregnant (cause clown rape is not legitimate rape and your body can’t shut it down), and the conservatives ever get their way, you’ll be giving birth to a clown baby which is like giving birth to Chucky. That baby will bite your tit and poop fire!
There is an article which talks of a clown that knocked on a woman’s door… and then shot her in the face when she opened it. Everyone already knows about John Wayne Gacy. I’m sure there are others but I didn’t want to probe too deep.
Bodies under the bed
My box spring is on the floor now, but when it wasn’t, I always looked under my bed. I’d never let me feet hang off the edge, and if I wanted to really make sure no one is under there, I’d poke under with a stick instead of my hand, just in case the movie Little Monsters is real. I don’t want Howie Mandell dragging me under there, especially now that he’s bald.I wasn’t just being paranoid diligent because apparently, finding bodies under beds happens all the time. I mean, not in your house, unless you live with a serial killer, but like, in hotels. If you don’t believe me, see here, here, and here. Also, here.
In all those reports, people slept in these beds. With the dead bodies underneath!! If that doesn’t give you chills, I don’t know what will.