Weird, gross, creepy, or unsettling moments you've had

I don’t really mean for this to turn into one of those “creepy experiences you’ve had” threads, since I know there are a lot of those. If it becomes one, no biggie (because I like those threads) but what I’m mostly looking for are moments that made you shudder a bit, but didn’t freak you out completely.

Anyway, here’s mine (warning: TMI):

I got an infection on my ankle on Thursday from a ruptured blister–said ankle ballooned up to twice its usual size, such that even the doctor was impressed. That’s not the unsettling moment; that was really more of an “oh god what’s happening to me I’m gonna die” moment. The unsettling part came after I started the antibiotics. The swelling (which is still there, incidentally) became sort of inert, like the fluid build-up was just sitting there. It also moved around a bit, wherever gravity took it (so a lot of it ended up pooling on my foot). This meant that when I walked on it, I could FEEL it gooshing around inside my foot. It was really, really weird to walk around work today and feel this nasty-ass ooze wobbling around like thick jello. Weird, creepy, gross, AND unsettling.

So what have your experiences been?

Stops to think like a nine-year-old boy

Got one! Get your barf bag out. Had a very nice ragdoll cat named “Bunny” whose hobby in the Spring was eating, uh, bunnies. Bunnies have parasites.

One night my flopsy-mopsy cat lolled in my lap for a very long time and when he finally arose and took his leave he left a squirmy little pile of his unwanted guests in my lap.

Are you sick yet? I was.

Earlier this morning the very pregnant **mrs.kidneyfailure ** and I were talking about how her doctor had said that although she’s now in her second trimester and her nausea should mostly be gone, she still might throw up sometimes in the mornings. No sooner had we finished talking about this did MKF cough a very deep cough and get this weird look on her face. I knew what it meant: she was going to spew everywhere. In the spur of the moment, rather than getting a trash can or whatever to collect her vomit, I just cupped my hands below her mouth. You can guess what happened next.

That’s love.

Not gross, so much as unsettling.

A couple of days ago I was waiting for the bus with another woman. We were minding our own business, occasionally looking up from our electronic devices to watch for the bus, when a red truck drove by with an unshaven man in a white T-shirt at the wheel. Suddenly he clenched his fist, threw back his head and let out a scream/roar/howl, not sure how to describe the sound other than “AAAAAAAARGHGGHGHGHGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” as he kept driving with the other hand. My fellow bus rider and I were horrified and fascinated, and spent the next minute or so speculating what could have possessed him to do so and whether he was OK to drive.

Now that I think about it, there is one possibility I hadn’t considered, and maybe my fellow bus rider might have but was too polite to mention:

One neighborhood nearby is notorious for prostitution due to the number of bars and motels in it. Maybe he was getting a BJ and driving at the same time (yes, it’s possible) and was ahem, really enjoying himself as he drove past the bus stop. Either that or there were teeth involved. :eek:

Ahhh the Fluid Leg Bag. I know it well. I had MRSA a few years ago in my leg, same thing happened. I had to keep it wrapped for months to keep fluid from pooling. I think ‘the first time I changed a diaper’ is going to be high on many people’s lists.

Wow. That is love, for sure.

yes, that brought one to mind. Not the first diaper, but soon after daughter was born, I was changing her on the bed, while sitting on the bed, and didn’t keep track of where I set the dirty pooey diaper. I soon discovered where it was when I put my hand right in it when trying to get up. That taught me a valuable lesson: to wrap up the diaper as soon as it comes off!

Rather unsettling event: Folding clothes at a laundromat, some old guy walking through looks straight at me and starts an angry rant about “those damn Indians” I’m just glad he kept walking. FTR, I can’t for sure claim NA, but there is most likely a branch in the family tree way back, according to a geneology my aunt was working on. Maybe he buys into stereotypes (not a stretch) and was looking at the rolled bandana and braids I was wearing. It was weird though.

Several years ago, I contracted a bad case of Tinea Cruris
I tried to treat it with OTC anti fungals but it kept getting worse. I got myself to the doctor but not before my parts became engorged with fluid and had swollen to the size of a large grapefruit.
It was like having an very itchy water ballon where my genitalia was suposed to be.

Very creepy, you bet and this from a guy who watched his own vasectomy being performed.

Ah, fuck…gross!


I predict good things to come in this thread.

I’m a dude, and that’s one of the most adorable things I’ve ever heard.


My father did that EXACT SAME THING to me. I was something like three years old at the time, so I don’t remember it, but apparently I got this very concerned look on my face and started to heave. My dad cupped his hands below my mouth and I threw up in them.

The kicker? Apparently, the next time I had to throw up, I marched over to him, grabbed his hands, and cupped them together so that I could throw up in them. :smiley:

That’s love, all right!

I think this is a bit more then what you’re looking for so I’ll give the readers digest version and trim it down to a creepy “moment”
A few years back my mom got a call from a person that was planning to move on to the block where we used to live, where I grew up from ages 2 to 14. It started out with questions like “Did you like the neighborhood?” and then she said the reason she really called is because she wanted to know if we were comfortable living near a child sex offender “Waaah?” “Oh, Dave Smith was arrested for having child porn* etc etc case details etc etc” “Waaah?” My mom told me about this conversation the next day. My creepy moment was when I all of a sudden though to myself “Oooooohhh, that explains soooo much”

*To the best of my knowledge his offense were strictly limited to kiddie porn

My very first gross and unsettling moment ever:

Grandma (when she was still with us) kept three cats.

Three cuddly, adorable, cute cats. All very good with people.

So at age 8 I was more than a bit surprised to find their handiwork in Grandma’s back yard -

A small rabbit. Ripped in half. Guts and viscera and all that gore spilling out onto the patio. Head and upper torso gone. And a very satisfied cat licking its paws.

When I had five cats I stopped wearing closed toed shoes* after the following two things happened, within about two weeks of each other:

  1. Put my foot into a shoe and onto the torn-off top half of a gecko.

  2. Put my foot into a shoe and onto a large cockroach (the kind that will fight you for your breakfast cereal), still very much alive.

*Luckily I lived in Las Vegas so wearing sandals all the time was an option.

One of mine - cat related
Summer - I came home one night to find my darling pets had presented me with a headless mouse. I said thank you very much and I hope you ate the head as I tossed it into the bin. My home was fairly rodent free at the time so there were no more mousy manifestations - until…
Winter - I decided to put on my nice waterproof walking boots for the first time that year. Normally due to various arachnid incidents I check shoes before putting them on my feet. I didn’t this time. Left shoe goes on fine - right shoe goes on…gahhhhh whats in there - shoe comes off and something grey flies out of it gahhhh ah ha ha it’s only a moth - take a closer look ewwww mummified mouse head.
I’m sure the cats were laughing at me.

Your story reminded me of one of my more shameful stories.

Scene: My boyfriend was graduating and was invited to a college graduation party at a swanky mansion in Pasadena held by a classmate. I had only turned 21 half a year earlier and had been (and still is) a lightweight when it came to alcohol. It was an open bar and I had a beer or two, several cups of sangria and some heavenly drink made with crushed ice, vodka, gin, lime, and who knows what else made by a part time bartender friend of my boyfriend.

Twenty minutes later, I barely make it to the bathroom and my boyfriend is holding my hair while I upchuck chunks of partially digested pita, roasted lamb, and grilled vegetables all over the gilted gold (really) and marble sink. We tried rinsing away all the puke, but the chunks just would not go down the drain. The mess just got soggier. The party was crowded and there were other people who want to use the bathroom after us. I had never met most of these people before in my life and I didn’t want my first impression to be the sloppy drunk that destroyed a bathroom.

What my boyfriend did next both grossed me out and made him a hero to me. He plunged his hand into the mass of warm barf that was starting to congeal in the sink and handful by handful, he brought it over to the toilet until there was no more barely digested bits in the sink. He rinsed out the sink, flushed the toilet and then washed his hands three times with soap. I would have kissed him at the time, except I felt a second wave of dinner coming up, but this time I made it to the toilet.

Whenever I get annoyed at my boyfriend for being an hour late for something, I just think back to this event. He loves me. He really really loves me.

I didn’t think my wife’s puke story would inspire so many responses. Either way, I’ll just say: Yes, if someone is willing to to put their hands into anything that was excreted or regurgitated from your body that probably means he/she loves you or (at least) cares about you very, very deeply.

ETA: Or they’re getting paid to. Or they have a fetish for that kind of thing.

I hope my husband is so kind when we are expecting… You’re a dear husband!

I’ve posted this story before in the MMP and on GB: (Ernie the dog is a little Bichon Frise.)

Oh, I got puke stories. You haven’t lived until you’ve had to clean puke off a seat belt. The worst part is when there’s something in the vomit that you can recognize, like the crinkly edge of a lasagna noodle.

My favorite is still my ear-zit story. Some years ago, I got an infected sebaceous cyst on my earlobe. It was just annoying at first, but then it began to swell and made my earlobe turn purplish and jut out at an odd angle. When I started feeling tender areas in my neck, I knew it was spreading beyond rational control, and I needed medical intervention.

The doc was mighty impressed, and also glad he wore a face shield I’m sure. I rolled onto my side on the table, he put a little drape over my head with a hole for my earlobe, injected it with something that made it feel REALLY distended and painful, then sliced into it (a scalpel on your ear, by the way, makes a really loud and unpleasant ripping sound) and squeezed.

The nurse said that it hit two walls behind the doctor. I have no trouble believing that. After squeezing out the nastiness and flushing it a bit, he packed it with gauze with some kind of antibiotic on it (the only part of the whole affair that really made me queasy; ever had someone pack cloth inside your earlobe? Narsty), and sent me home with some prescriptions. The next morning, I made my then-fiancee help me pull out the gauze. Fun times.

Now, wanna hear about the “chewing ulcer” on my dog’s eye that eventually caused her iris to bulge out through the hole?