But the polish is only on one side of the nail. Why do you need to see the whole thing?
snakes.
eels
especially eels
Actually, I meant hives in general and things that look like hives. Survival instinct has little to do with logic – holey things aren’t always wasp nests – and everything to do with gut-reactions. I have never been attacked by a bear, but I have a gut-reaction to them when I see them stuffed in museums that makes me pause. I really think that the majority of people who count holey things in their creep-list are probably more to do with insects than the actual holey thing. Kind of like how certain buzzing frequencies make my skin crawl, but not others – instinctively I react to the frequency of the bugs with stingers, but flies or cell phones or other things that don’t sting don’t make my skin crawl.
A lot of men’s shoes give me the creeps. Sneakers or any kind of sports shoes are fine and even maybe sexy. Loafers, not great, but they will do.
But the old fashioned men’s shoe that is a brown, shoe-polished leather color and laces up, and the leather has punched-out bits for decoration (I know there is a name for this, but I don’t know what it is)? Shudder.
I’m sure I had a traumatic experience as a baby involving men’s shoes.
Brogues. I can’t for the life of me think why anyone would choose to wear such monstrosities, and this is coming from someone who admits to a mild footwear fetish!
This, this, THIS. Anything like “I’ll never let you go!” or “You’re stuck with me.” or anything insinuating that said person will be with me no matter what makes me want to chew my arm off and run, run, run.
Also:
Nazis
spiders
midgets (little people, whatever the PC term) - yes, I know this is a rude thing to find creepy, but I can’t help it
Same here. The thing you linked to is obviously wrong and repugnant and its existence a proof that the world wasn’t created by a benevolent god.
I really, really hate unfamiliar underlit rooms where I cannot find a light switch that helps. Worst is finding a light switch somewhere obscure, as in behind a bookshelf, flipping it, and no light goes on. This I can blame on my (now much-missed) grandma who used 25 watt bulbs to save money, had several perpetually broken light fixtures, and kept towering towers of *stuff *in every room, even sometimes in front of windows.
Also, I hate ordinary playing cards. They give me abstract nightmares. Please don’t ask me to learn bridge. This one, I have no idea why.
I understand the deep-sea thing, but I’m not afraid of whales; I’m afraid of those huge-jawed, pointy-toothed, bleached-out, distorted critters that would explode if you brought them up to the surface. I’m not so afraid of them coming to get me (since if they came up to bite my butt, they would, as I mentioned, explode) but afraid of somehow falling far enough to become their food. The Abyss was difficult, though compelling.
Ugh, I had one of these the other night. I was completely aware that I was asleep and lying down but I was equally certain that I was standing up and there were people on all sides of me, pressing into me menacingly. I could feel the pressure of them against. Me. Horrible.
There’s a woman at work who creeps me out. I believe I’ve said one sentence to here in the 3 years I’ve worked there (asked her for the loan of a pencil; she didn’t have one). I’m not entirely sure why she creeps me out but I think it’s because she has Dick Gephardt eyebrows and a really bad hairdo.
Ouch. This has recently happened to me. At a bar with friends. Get into an emotional conversation and I tell my friend about my good friend Martin who died in his 20’s. I am sad.
Then my friend Alex shows up. Most of us have the habit of ‘dropping off the grid’ for a while when life gets in the way. Just out of the blue he stops in. He proceeds to tell us how good he is doing - new job, new apartment, more pay, etc. Things are looking up.
Two weeks later I hear that he died in a motorcycle wreck.
I am sad again at the loss of another good friend.
Insects en masse. Small numbers ok, big numbers, not so much.
House centipedes must die.
And those goofy air inflated sock looking things- ah air dancers they are called. Pure evil.
There’s another photo I’ve seen – a real one – of a species of frog, the females of which carry eggs on their backs, and the tadpoles emerge through holes . ::Shudders::
I can undestand about the light switch. For me it is more about if it’s dark you flick a switch and light comes on - If the light doesn’t come on I suffer an overwelming sense of wrongness. I have been known to put a lighted candle in the dark room even though every other light in the house is working.
Blackouts are …interesting.
Wow 2 pages.
That’s not an air dancer. It’s a wacky waiving inflatable arm flailing tube man!
I’ll go with the mounds of squriming, writhing bugs.
Hey, if they pummel you, they’ll have to come for me too! I totally agree (and here I thought I was the only one who thought this way).
Long nails creep me the fuck out – the longer the nail, the creepier it gets. And while nail polish doesn’t creep me out, per se, I certainly do find it unattractive. Listen girls, you don’t need to do anything to your nails aside from keeping them trim. Seriously, us guys are easy!
I’m not even 100% sure where she lives, cos she upped and moved in with this fella, so I can’t even check the local hosptials/police … 
You ever see a girl that has those long claw-like pasted on nails, but didn’t do so good of a job with them, so that down toward the cuticle, under the blood-red polish, you get this unnatural rough and bumpy effect?
Albino people, for some reason, make me uneasy. I know it’s wrong and I’m as polite to them as I can be, but their very pale hair, skin and eyes are mildly unnerving.
Likewise people with very bad acne, or with severe scarring. Dunno why. On the other hand, missing limbs don’t bother me in the least.
Wooden paddles used for eating ice cream. I cannot stand to see someone else use them. I will stop what I am doing and get them a real spoon.
As for using them myself–not in a million years. Fortunately the truck that serves the best goddam soft ice cream on the planet gives you a plastic spoon.
Carpet. I mean, I have carpet in my house, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes when I’m walking, or someone else is walking, and I feel or hear the frictiony scuff of foot on fibre, I get the biggest shiver like I just got a big raw carpet burn on my very soul. Ick.