Okay, so tallying the poll, does this mean lotus pods are no longer on the “things you find creepy but other people don’t” list? Because lotus pods seem right up there with clowns and spiders.
/indifferent to lotus pods.
Feet. Not just dirty feet, mind, but feet in general. They’re gross and ugly and weird. If someone touches me with their feet, I will freak out.
I know so many people like that! I’ll be curled up on my couch, not realising their weirdness, and they’ll find a different chair just so they don’t have to sit on my “foot side.”
But not him.
Charlie is a survivor. He must strike a careful balance; provide enough victims for his masters, but leave enough so that there will always be more for the insatiable tuna casserole consuming masses.
It is a wicked and evil existence, but Charley bides his time, and waits patiently…
I think that’s a really good idea anyway. Where do you get them?
I can make a reasonably well informed guess. The thing is, it’s not a rational fear. I am not afraid of being sucked in, I’m afraid of the drain itself, for no real reason.
The Achilles tendon. Don’t touch mine. I don’t wanna touch yours. I want to kick someone in the face and then take a hot shower just thinking about it.
I thought Charley’s whole shtick was that he was begging to be eaten, but wasn’t considered worthy. “Sorry, Charley.”
And what was the deal with the glasses and the nasally voice? Was he supposed to be a knockoff of Charles Nelson Reilly?
My personal squick is trying to tune the rental car radio in a city I’m visiting and hearing…
“We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun…”
Obviously a Clever Ruse on his part.
White washing the fence, as it were.
The military photo – yes, creeps me out, too, because I always think, “They take these formal portraits so they’ll have a nice picture for the obituary when s/he is killed in action.” 
(And to all the parents of children who served in the military, I hope you are enjoying those portraits as a snapshot in your kid’s life, no different than a senior portrait, something to laugh and feel nostalgic about with said kid about for years to come. And if that’s not the case, I am deeply sorry for your loss.)
I’m not sure if it was the Surinam toad or another amphibian (I seem to think it was a frog, since what I saw was happening under water), but the video of the critter’s back, the big holes the tadpoles had emerged from, the way the skin flapped — GAAAH! I really can’t think too much about that image, because it makes me want to throw up. Far worse than the lotusboob.
OMG. Just found a YouTube video. I watched approximately one second of it. It is the Surinam toad. :eek: I’m not linking it because I don’t want to have to look at it again. ::shudder::
I’m not alone! Those things have ALWAYS creeped the hell out of me.
The picture I mentioned was, in fact, cropped out of a picture taken of my dad and his two brothers when they were all in the service, for the express purpose of having a nice picture for the obituary. (Although a good 40 years and his military retirement stood between the taking of the picture and his passing.)
Again I learn from the 'Dope. There is a riverboat here. They photograph everyone and try and sell you the pics as you leave. When pressed, “The Coast Guard makes us take them.” Probably for the same reason. “Do recognize this guy? We found him floating under the Broadway Street Bridge.”
Creepy.
Parents kissing their kids on the lips. That’s just weird to me, our family never did that. And we’re part hillbilly too!
My family knows that I hate oversized tacky christmas decorations so as a joke they sent my partner one of those gigantic hot air filled balloons that are scaled for things like outdoor coliseums or mega malls. It’s a Santa and sleigh and it’s at least 6 feet tall and 8 feet long. Every year he sets it up in a way that this giant santa’s head is staring and nodding at me through the bedroom window. It completely freaks me out. Not only does it play the same annoying music over and over but it lights up the entire canyon so that all of our neighbors (who live in the dark woods for a reason) are treated to the display every year as well. I’ve already started guilt tripping him this year about how we should donate it to the local family shelter and that a practical joke is no longer funny after 5 years.
Crushed velvet. Not such a big deal anymore, but when I was a kid growing up in the 70s, that shit was everywhere. And touching (now, just the thought of touching it) made my stomache do flip-flops.
The word pores (as in, on your body) or the phrase “blow the soot out of it” (as in a car), also ooge me out. For some reason my dad figured this out when I was little and took much delight in torturing me with it.
Men who are very pro-life and straight folks that are vehemently anti-SSM. It just seems unnatural to my way of thinking to the point that I almost can’t listen to even a logical argument from them on the subject. It’s like, ‘gah! be concerned with something that might actually affect your body, will ya?’ Way unhealthy interest. Ugh.
Little bits of anything that turn into trash, even if I’ve just then torn it off myself. Once it’s in that form, I almost can’t stand to touch it simply to throw it away.
Some celebrities that other people love and really creep me out for reason unknown even in my world. Currently there’s Adrian Grenier and Shia LaBeouf are just two that I can think of off the top of my head that I don’t get the appeal of and has me zipping past any information of them that I ever see. And I ain’t lookin’ at their IMDb pages now either.
< shudder shudder shudder >