Archive for the ‘Fears’ Category

The Clowns Are Coming

Posted: September 24, 2016 in Fears, Humor, Things I Hate
Tags:

ABC News: Days after several reports of spooky clowns alarming residents in California, pranksters in similar costumes are popping up in other states.

Sgt. Tom Weger of the Fishers Police Department in Indiana thinks his town is dealing with a copycat.

Chills, man.

Chills, man.

“We have had over the past week three calls of a suspicious person dressed in a creepy clown outfit,” Weger told ABC News today. “We believe it’s just one individual dressing up as a clown and kind of creeping people out a bit.”

The reports come after similar sightings this month in Bakersfield, California, and the launch of social media accounts using the name “Wasco Clown,” showing a scary clown posing at different locations in Bakersfield and nearby cities.

Fishers, Indiana, isn’t alone in the new sightings, days before Halloween residents of Albuquerque, New Mexico, were recently spooked when a scary clown posed for a photo in front of a local restaurant and posted it on social media. But the clown, Tickles, told ABC affiliate KOAT-TV in Albuquerque that he didn’t mean any harm by the scary photo.

And clowns have also reportedly appeared in Jacksonville, Florida, popping up on security footage.

The World Clown Association says such spooky sightings are giving clowns a bad rap.

“People dressed as horror clowns are not ‘real clowns,'” president-elect Randy Christensen said. “They are taking something innocent and wholesome and perverting it to create fear in their audience.”

Lordy.

You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? The clowns are coming.

For years, clowns built up goodwill throughout the world, appearing at birthday parties, circuses and carnivals, making balloon animals and squirting people with whatever the hell comes out of that flower on their chest. Some even appeared on television under names like Bozo and Clarabell. We even had our own local clown, Flippo.

flippo-cu-jpg

Flippo.

Flippo was nightmare fuel, man.

Famous actors even portrayed clowns. Respected men like Red Skelton and Soupy Sales had clown characters as a part of their act.

Clowns were everywhere, man. And now, this. The true nature of clowns is emerging.

A few of us have always known something was amiss. Something was missing behind the make-up and painted-on smiles.

Something awful lurked there.

Perhaps the trouble all started with Willard Scott, goofball weatherman for the Today Show. He was a clown, you know. Dude never seemed right.

Or maybe it was John Wayne Gacy, serial killer of at least 33 young boys in Chicago.

He buried the boys under his house. Part-time job? Clown.

And now the clowns are tired of pretending, weary of playing out the fraudulent pretense of being friendly, nose-honking fun-makers.

Yes, the clown’s true nature is emerging, and it is horrifying. The clowns ain’t playin’, man.

Soon, Ronald McDonald will be revealed as a poisoner of Big Macs, perhaps the murderer of Mayor McCheese.

ronald-mcdonald

Good God.

The Hamburglar will be found strangled in his sleep, with strands of bright red hair found at the scene.

Facts will be unearthed involving Bozo, the information unspeakable and abhorrent.

Yes, the true nature of clowns will soon be revealed to all, and it won’t be funny.

Note: I still can’t wrap my head around a World Clown Association. Just too terrible to contemplate.

Note 2: Say what you want, Tickles the Clown. I’m not buying it.

Note 3: Remember when I was threatened by an angry clown? That was pretty scary. Hope he doesn’t read this.

Note 4: I stupidly clicked on a “Clowns Near You” link while researching for this article, and while I was terrified the answer would be “right behind you”, this dude popped up. Calls himself Mr. Bugaboo. Sweet God Almighty.bugaboo

And so it continues. The clowns are getting more brazen, and Fleetwood clownManor is the latest to face evidence of the COMING CLOWN HORDE. Here’s the story:

GREENVILLE, S.C. — A note some Greenville County residents found on their apartment doors has them concerned for the safety of their neighborhood.

Residents at Fleetwood Manor Apartments on Fleetwood Drive reportedly received letters on Wednesday stating the property management has received complaints of a person dressed as a clown trying to “lure children into the woods.”

The letter, which appears to be printed on Fleetwood Manor Apartments letterhead, reminds the public children should never be alone or walking through the woods at night.

The property management in the letter indicates Greenville County law enforcement is conducting daily patrols of the property due to the reports. Below is the full text of the letter:

8/24/2016

To The Residents of Fleetwood Manor

There have been several conversations and a lot of complaints to the office regarding a clown or a person dressed in clown clothing taking children or trying to lure children in the woods. First and foremost at Fleetwood Manor Apartments children’s safety is a top priority. At no time should a child be alone at night, or walking in the roads or wooded areas at night. Also, if a clown or clowns are seen you are to immediately call the police. Greenville County Police Department is aware of the situation and have been patrolling the property daily.

Thank you,

Property Manager

Donna Arnold, one of the people residing at the complex who received the letter, said she called the Greenville County Sheriff’s Office to come out to Fleetwood Manor after her son and others reported seeing clowns behind the basketball court.

“I thought my child was seeing things,” Arnold said. “And then the next day I had about 30 kids come up to me and say, ‘Did you see the clown in the woods?”

First off, are there any more chilling woods than “Did you see the clown in the woods?” That’s nightmare fuel, man. Secondly, one particular part of the letter confuses me. So what they’re searching for is either a “clown or a person dressed in clown clothing”? WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFERENCE MAN? Aren’t all clowns just people dressed in clown clothing? Or, no, please, say it isn’t true . . . there are actual living breathing humanoids that are simply clowns all the time?

N-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O!

clowns

Sweet Jesus. Nightmare fuel. Watch both videos for optimum scared shitlessness.*

*It’s those kinds of words that separate this website from all others. You’re welcome.

babysecret

Apparently this is a recruiting video for a sorority at the University of Texas. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

sorority

Insane. One gust of wind, man . . .

roof-climbing-girl-dangerous-selfies-angela-nikolau-russia-1

roof-climbing-girl-dangerous-selfies-angela-nikolau-russia-2

roof-climbing-girl-dangerous-selfies-angela-nikolau-russia-10

roof-climbing-girl-dangerous-selfies-angela-nikolau-russia-7

roof-climbing-girl-dangerous-selfies-angela-nikolau-russia-4

So this suicide-encouraging construction was built on the side of Tianmen Mountain in the Zhangjiajie National Forest Park. That’s in the Hunan province, but I’m sure you knew that. Anyhoo, this glass path is 4,700-feet above ground level, kids. I’m no scientist or mathematician but I’m pretty sure that’s high. I can imagine how the design team meeting went: “Hey, let’s build a walkway on the side of a mountain, say, about 4,700 feet high. That’ll be fun. And ooh! Let’s make it glass so people can look right through it!”

Seriously man, get this thing out of here. Be sure to check out the video below the photos.

[click terrifying photos to enlarge]

high4

high2

high

man-in-car

Not me but eerily similar.

My recollections regarding my horrifying hoodie in the backseat the other day got me to thinking about other heart-stopping moments I’ve experienced in my lifetime. Give a listen, kids . . .

Once I was on a plane returning from Vegas and we had to land in Minneapolis for a layover. I was looking out the window as we were landing, actually watching the landing strip lines flashing by, when at about 20-feet off the ground the pilot lurched the plane upward so violently the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling, several people screamed, and most tragically I spilled my drink.

On a related note, I may have professed my love to a flight attendant and made a couple promises to God if he let me live, but that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway, after we leveled off the pilot got on the intercom and told us a plane was on the runway that wasn’t supposed to be there and he had to pull up to avoid a crash. My friend, who hated flying anyway, actually tipped the pilot as we exited the plane. Oh yes he did.

Anyway, scary.

Years ago I had been visiting a friend down in Waverly and was returning home around 2:00am. I recall it was a really foggy night, and as I came up Blaine Highway I stopped at the intersection of Blain and Route 50. Keep in mind I was in a cloth-top Jeep CJ-5 at the time.

I stopped briefly at the stop sign, but before I could pull onto Route 50 the passenger side door of my jeep flew open and a man jumped into my jeep.

Talk about a heart-stopper. Foggy, 2:00am, man jumps in jeep with me. Sweet Mother of God.

After jamming my heart back down my throat and making sure I hadn’t wet my pants, I screamed something along the lines of . . .

“WHAT THE HELL, MAN???”

Well, it took me about 3-seconds to ascertain that this jackass was drunk as a skunk, and from what he told me his friends had stopped and threw him out of their car for reasons that would soon become clear to me – the dude was a bad, bad, drunk.

He demanded that I take him to Chillicothe, which sadly for him was in the opposite direction of my destination. I told him this, but in his drunken state he wouldn’t take no for an answer. At this juncture my fear had turned to anger, so I had no choice but to turn off the jeep, walk around to the passenger side, and jerk drunk boy out of his seat and onto the road. I gave him a good shove, and the last I saw of him he was staggering off into the fog and parts unknown.

I half expected him to reappear in front of the jeep, and if he had I’m 100% 50% sure I would have run over him and continued home.

Anyway, if you’ve never been on a 2-lane country road on a foggy night at 2:00am, had your car door jerked open and a guy hop into the passenger seat, well, you haven’t lived.

Not recommended though. Damn, that scared me.

This daughter and father’s ensemble. Jeebus.

night

Someone in the Backseat

Posted: October 30, 2015 in Fears, Mystery
Tags:

I’ve never been more scared than I was that night.HoodedFigure_zps55364230

I’d been out with a girl I was dating from Bainbridge. I left her place around 1:00 AM, and as I drove east by Jones Levee Road something made me look out the window to my right. I immediately looked back ahead, but I’d seen something out of the corner of my eye.

Somebody was sitting in my backseat.

Yep, as I’d glanced out the passenger side window I distinctly saw somebody out of the corner of my eye, silently sitting there.

It’s sort of a primal fear, isn’t it? Somebody behind you?

He must have snuck into my car when I was at my girlfriend’s house.

Was it a former boyfriend of hers? A former flame of mine? Random mugger? Serial killer? The Grim Reaper?

Whoever it was, sitting silently there in the backseat, surely had evil intentions.

I cautiously took a peek in my rearview mirror, hoping to do so without letting my unwanted guest know I was suspicious. Hell, maybe my eyes had played a trick on me.

No such luck. There, just barely, I could see a shoulder and a part of a hoodie. Where the face should be was shrouded in darkness.

The radio was off. I strained to hear breathing, anything, from the backseat.

Nothing. The only breathing I heard was mine.

My mind was reeling. What to do? Slam the brakes and hope to send the intruder through the windshield? Get home, pull in my driveway and make a run for it? Start talking, tell him I know he’s back there? Scream like a 9-year old girl at a Beiber concert?

I’m joking now but trust me, at the time I was scared out of my gourd.

I decided to drive home, hit the brakes, open the door and jump out. Only then would I turn and face my adversary.

The drive from Jones Levee to my house took only a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. It’s funny how time crawls when you’re expecting an axe to the back of your skull at any moment.

Somehow, as I pulled in my driveway the garage didn’t seem like a good idea. Something about a closed-in space didn’t appeal to me at that particular moment. You know, not enough room to run fight. I opted to forego the garage and park outside.

I turned onto my street, hoping desperately some of my friends had decided to pay me a late night visit. No dice. My house was dark.

Thus, my moment had come. I pulled slowly into the driveway, expecting the worst. There was no going back now. It was time to face whoever, or whatever, was behind me.

After a deep breath I hit the brakes, slammed the car into park, threw open the door, jumped out, and turned to face the terror that awaited.

Curiously, my backdoor stayed shut. Through the tinted window, though, I could see the silhouette of the hoodie wearing intruder, unmoving. It may seem odd but the fact that he was still made him immensely more frightening.

Fighting the urge to make a run for it, I jerked open the rear car door. And there, right before my eyes, was . . .

My parka.

Sitting upright on my backseat.

With its hood laying against the headrest.

Where I’d tossed it before leaving Bainbridge.

It lay there with, apparently, no intention of strangling the life out of me.

To this day I always double-check the backseat before getting into my car, especially after dark.

You know, in case a coat is lurking there.

Because I have a couple. I came across this information on the worldwide phobiainterweb the other day and found it fascinating. Let’s get right into it . . .

Agyrophobia: Fear of Crossing the Street

  • I have absolutely zero fear of crossing a street. Show me a street and I shall cross it. Except this one:

Mageirocophobia: Fear of Cooking

  • I have no fear of cooking, but I can’t cook much. My culinary skills are limited to hot dogs and whatever I can put into a microwave or my beloved toaster oven. Why would be afraid to cook? Getting burned? Chopping off an appendage? I’m confused.

Pediophobia: Fear of Dolls

  • Hell yes I’m afraid of dolls. Always have been. I wrote about it in my critically acclaimed and world renowned blog Mannequins and Clowns and Dolls, Oh My! that has since been used in college classrooms across the globe. Well, not really, but I’m still afraid of dolls. Too bad the name for my phobia sounds like it’s related to child molesting or something. Geesh.

Deipnophobia: Fear of Dinner Conversation

  • I sort of have this one, and it may date back to my childhood and some pretty awkward dinners. And you know those parties or weddings where they assign seats at the tables? Hate ’em. Absolutely hate ’em. Nothing worse than forced conversation, in my opinion. I despise small talk and have been known to pretend I’m on my cell phone when I see someone I know in the supermarket. In related news, I’m a horrible human being.

Eisoptrophobia: Fear of Mirrors

  • I have no issue with mirrors, but I think I know why people do. There have been way too many  movies in which somebody shuts a bathroom mirror and there’s the reflection of a serial killer over their shoulder.

Demonophobia: Fear of Demons

  • Question – Who’s not afraid of a demon? It’s a damn demon, man. Good Lord. On a related note, every time I hear the word demon I think of a story a friend once told me. His grandma was old and suffering from dementia and hallucinations, and he’d visit her often. Occasionally during conversation she’d stop, look over his shoulder and up into the corner of the ceiling and say, “Shhhh . . . don’t move. The demon is up there, watching.” My friend said that it never failed to give him chills.

Pentheraphobia: Fear of Mother-in-Law

  • I’ve only had one Mother-in-Law in my life (my second wife’s mom had unfortunately passed away earlier) but I must say I had zero fear of her. She was the salt of the earth. On a related note, does anyone know what that means?

Arachibutyrophobia: Fear of Peanut Butter

  • Oh, for God’s sake. Like it’s going to stick to the roof of your mouth and kill you or something? This reminds me of that woman on The Maury Show who was supposedly afraid of pickles. That had to be a scam. Nobody’s afraid of pickles. Kumquats maybe. Pickles? Never.

Cathisophobia: Fear of Sitting

  • I don’t fear sitting, but I hate to sit for long periods of time. For instance, I love flying but I have to get up a lot, much to the consternation of the people in my row. I do have a fear of people coming up behind me when I sit, and for this reason I always had my desk in a corner where my students couldn’t get behind me. My buddy JR once told me I must have been strangled from behind in a past life.

Automatonophobia: Fear of a Ventriloquist’s Dummy

  • I’m not afraid of ventriloquist’s dummies. I’m terrified of ventriloquist’s dummies. Didn’t you read my critically acclaimed and world renowned blog Mannequins and Clowns and Dolls, Oh My!? Come on, man. Click on the links.

So, what say you? Do you suffer from any of these or other phobias? C’mon, it’s just between us and a couple hundred thousand Shoe: Untied followers.

Spill your guts, people!

Hey, we all have our fears, right? I saw a woman on Maury Povich that was deathly afraid of pickles, although I think she may have been an actress and Maury was just havin’ some fun with us. In any event, the Top 10 Fears of the general public, according to surveys, are as follows:

1. FLYING.

What? I’d love to be able to fly. I’d just soar to the beach like a boss, landing on mountaintops and stuff on the way. Why should we be scared of  . . . oh, you mean in airplanes? Never mind. That can be scary as hell at times, although flying is really one of my favorite things to do.

2. PUBLIC SPEAKING.

Never got this one at all. I actually enjoy public speaking. Not sure if my public enjoys me speaking though.

3. HEIGHTS.

Yeah, not crazy about heights either. I get all dizzy and whatnot. My trip to the top of Empire State building in 1989 did not go well, and is still spoken of in hushed tones by those in attendance. On a related note, Hitchcock’s “Vertigo” was a helluva movie.

4. THE DARK.

O-o-o-o-h, THE DARK. What ‘s so scary about the dark? I’m a night owl, always have been. Something about the cover of darkness that appeals to me. Not sure I wanna know what that says about me though. In addition, I promise I’m not a window peeper or a serial killer or anything. I just love the night. To me, the ultimate date would include a 2:00 a.m. walk on the beach.

5. INTIMACY.

Wait. What? Who doesn’t like intimacy? I’m all about the intimacy. I do not get it. I’m flummoxed, befuddled, bewildered, stupefied, dumbfounded and confused.*

* Thesaurus.com is a wonderful tool.

6. DEATH.

I mean, nobody wants to die, but I don’t really think about dying that much. On the other hand, I’ve written two blogs about dying over the past year. Disregard. This does remind me of an interesting occurrence though. Once, while teaching a writing class, I asked a group of 8th graders to write about what it would be like to live forever. To my surprise nearly all of them wrote that it would be a horrible curse to never die. I found that to be extremely interesting and somewhat telling.

7. FAILURE.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt afraid of failing. Not sure why, because Lord knows I’m damn good at it.

8. REJECTION.

Tough one here. Sure, nobody likes to be rejected but I don’t really fear it. I’ve never not taken the leap of faith for fear of being rejected. That’s no way to live, is it?

9. SPIDERS.

Nah, not afraid of spiders at all. Spiders are cool. If I find one in the house I sometimes take it outside and release it into the wild. Spiders do great things for us dumb humans, don’tcha know?

10. COMMITMENT.

Oh God. S-o-o-o-o, how about those Bengals, huh? I think we can go places if Andy Dalton gains some consistency. And we always have Ohio State, amirite? O-H!!

With these in mind I thought I’d discuss some of my own fears. They say it’s good for the soul to talk about it, and Lord knows my soul could use some cleansing. So, here we go. By the way, you may notice a trend. Drumroll please . . .

1. CLOWNS.

Hate ‘em, always have. They’re frightening looking and they’re not funny. I always wonder what’s lurking under all that make-up. It didn’t help when I found out that notorious serial killer John Wayne Gacey worked as a party clown in his spare time, just humoring and entertaining the kiddies. You know, right before the dismembering and stuff. And Ronald McDonald? Nightmarish.

I’ve seen this guy. In my dreams.

2. MANNEQUINS.

Just chilling.

I just got chills typing that. They watch you when you walk by, you know that, right? I mean they actually turn their heads. Anyway, years ago I had a date with a girl who worked in the Macy’s perfume department at a mall in Columbus. I was supposed to pick her up after store hours. The plan was for her to leave the front door unlocked at a predetermined time and I’d mosey on in to get her. Great plan, except not really. I walked into a bad dream. The only lights on were those emergency kind way back and high on the walls, creating a sort of shadowy effect throughout the store. The mannequins were all dark silhouettes, and I swear one reached out and tried to grab me as I walked briskly by. OK, I was running like a 12-year old girl chasing Bieber’s limo. Anyway, once I found my date I was fine, if you don’t count the profuse sweating, hyperventilating and shaking. And not once did she ask why I kept looking over my shoulder on the way out.

3. DOLLS.

She’s looking at YOU.

I grew up with two older sisters and their dolls were horrifying. Especially the older ones with the porcelain faces who would just cold stare at you like a demon from the underworld. Jeepers. And the talking dolls? Sweet Mother of God they were scary. Now that I think of it, this may all stem from that old Twilight Zone episode called “Talking Tina” where the doll ended up killing that dude. I watched it and was obviously scarred for life. It’s weird, but the “Chuckie” movies never bothered me at all, they actually seemed funny to me. It’s the regular dolls that are the worst. The kind that watch you walk across the room.

4. PUPPETS.

Gotta little Sandusky in him, no?

Not the little hand puppets, but the big ones that sit on the ventriloquist’s knee while he controls them with his hand up their ass. Just chilling to look at. I also hate the puppet’s that are controlled by strings. Something about their jerky movements and, again, those lifeless eyes. Just pure terror. And Howdy Doody? Creepy.

5. RATS.

B-r-r-r-r-r-r…

I know what you’re thinking. This guy had a gerbil he loved, what’s up? Well, all I can say is gerbils and mice are way different than rats. Hell, I have no problem with snakes or bats either. Got bit by a bat once, but that’s for another story. Rats though? Not so much. Maybe it goes back to my childhood when I went out to feed our pony one morning before school. I popped the top of the 50-gallon drum full of oats and reached in to grab what I thought was the scoop to fill Thunder’s feed bin. Wrong. I grabbed a big ol’ rat. It made some hellish screeching noise and leaped about 37-feet straight up, trying to bite my nose off on its ascent. Well, it seemed like 37-feet. Maybe it was 3? Anyway, I nearly wet my pants so maybe that’s where my fear of rats began. If it wasn’t then it certainly would have began years later when I was coaching high school hoops. Back then I had to walk from my office way down by the gym all the way up to the high school office in order to call in my stats  and interviews to the newspaper and radio. Anyway, after making my calls I was heading back down the long hallway, just minding my own business. Suddenly and without warning, a giant rat comes flying around a corner, just hurtling toward me full throttle. That in itself would have been nightmare inducing enough, right? But n-o-o-o-o, there’s more. This rat was jacked up, man. Methinks it had been in the rat poison because this rat wasn’t right. It was bouncing off the walls, rolling over occasionally while every once in awhile standing up on its back feet, wobbling unsteadily. And oh yeah, it was making a noise that sounded as if it emanated from the depths of hell. At that point I froze for a second, then turned and headed for the front exit before this beast leaped up, ripped a vein out of my neck and killed me. Sorry for the dramatics but I was traumatized. Still am. Hence the fear of rats.

So there ya go. I know, I have issues. Still, I opened my soul to you, my innermost fears laid bare for the masses. I know that you, too, have some things you’re afraid of, and here’s your chance to let it all out in the comments section. Let’s do this!

Oh, I also fear being made fun of, so take it easy on me.

I just looked at my reflection in the mirror. It blinked.

Bonus pic:

1

I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I though it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.

Bonus pic:

1

 

My sister says that mommy killed her. Mommy says that I don’t have a sister.

Bonus freaky pic:

1a

1

Ever have one of those dreams that make you scream and sit bolt upright in a cold sweat? One of those dreams where you’re not 100% certain it didn’t actually happen?

Yeah, me too. Just the other night. Jeebus.

In my dream I’d just taken a shower and as I sometimes do I went to my basement door to toss the towel down the steps, where I’d grab it later and put it into a pile to wash. It was late at night and I opened the door, tossed the towel down the pitch-black steps, shut the door, and started to walk away.

But . . .

As I did that I realized something wasn’t right. I hadn’t heard the towel hit the floor at the bottom of the steps. There was an eerie silence instead, just before I’d closed the basement door.

Something told me to go back and check.

In my dream I hesitantly walked back and opened the door, but of course it was black as night. Then I reached in and turned on the basement light . . .

And there, about halfway down the stairs, was my towel, hanging in the air, clearly over a human form.

With no legs underneath it.

At that point the screaming and sitting bolt upright thing occurred, and I laid back down and attempted to slow my heart rate a few beats. Sparky, of course, was standing on my chest, licking my face and trying to calm me down.

The dream was so real though, damn it, that I just couldn’t go back to sleep.

I had to go check. I had to.

Then I actually went to the basement door, opened it, flipped on the light switch quickly, and took a look. You know, to make sure a towel wasn’t laying halfway down the steps or maybe hovering in the air over some unseen creature from the netherworld.

All the while, my main protector Spark was beside me, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.

Of course, nothing.

Still, even with Spark snuggled up beside me it took me a long time to fall back asleep.

Dreams, man.

And I just know I’ll hesitate before I thrown a damn towel down those steps again.

Chilling.

Chilling.

A numbers cruncher at a Manhattan ad firm suddenly decided that the office mannequins were out for his blood — so he jumped to his death from a fourth-floor window to escape their wrath, sources told The Post on Thursday.

“They’re after me! They’re after me!” David Caquais, 43, shouted while frantically pointing at the dummies in the Garment District offices of Catch NY around 9 p.m. Jan. 2.

“This guy’s running around . . . he’s kicking the window panes. He’s using his fists, his elbows, trying to get one window pane open,” said a worker at Avalon hotel across the street.

“He’s yelling all kinds of things . . . He goes to a fourth window, and that’s when he gets enough room to get his body through . . . and he jumps,” the witness said.

Caquais’ funeral was Thursday at Our Lady Help of Christians R.C. Church.

And so it begins.

Listen, you may call this guy crazy but I don’t doubt him for second. You’ve all read about my fear of mannequins in the blog Mannequins and Clowns and Dolls, Oh My! so I get it. Hey, I’ve had mannequins watch me walk across a store before, just waiting to pounce. I feel ya, David Caquais. I really do.

PS – Is it me or does this sound like a 2015 version of a Twilight Zone episode? Freaky, man.

Somebody walked into this abandoned warehouse in Baltimore and stood face-to-face with hell on earth. The structure stretches over 4-acres and contains over 100-million spiders. I believe this place needs to be torched immediately, nuked from space or napalmed into oblivion, but that’s just me. You know, because it contains over 100-million spiders.

Random thought. Who counted the spiders?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Best Fails of October!

Posted: November 5, 2014 in Fears, Humor
Tags:

Let’s revel in other people’s misery.

I’ve always been a fan of the horror genre, hence my love of The Walking Dead and stuff like that. And since it’s Halloween I thought it would be appropriate to list my 20 All-Time Favorite Horror Movies. You know, just for you.

Night of the Living Dead (1968)

The opening scene to this movie simply mortified me. I believe this movie was one of the first, if not the first, that used the word zombies. Here’s that opening scene . . .

Cloverfield (2008)

In my opinion, this was a very underrated movie. My favorite scene is when we finally get an up close look at the monster, right before he eats a dude. Love it.

The Fly (1958)

The last scene of this movie absolutely knocked me off my feet as a kid. For the whole movie we’ve seen the guy with the fly head, never thinking that their might be another being with a fly body. Then this happens . . .

Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)

My family used to take trips to Florida, and I always thought of this scene when we’d pass a river or creek.

The Mothman Prophecies (2002)

LOVED this movie. And the scene where Richard Gere gets the phone call scared the bejesus out of me. Freaky.

Friday the 13th (1980)

Forget the hideous remakes, the original was stellar.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

There’s something about this scene when Donald Sutherland screams that is very unsettling to me.

The Exorcist (1973)

If this scene didn’t creep you out you have no soul.

When a Stranger Calls (1979)

Yep. He’s in the house.

Psycho (1960)

Of course. It has to be the famous shower scene.

The Shining (1980)

From the whole movie, one and only one scene stands out, and it’s not Nicholson’s “Here’s Johnny!”

It’s this chilling scene . . .

The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1979)

This may be the most little known scary as hell movie in history. Even the trailer is spooky.

Alien (1979)

Even though you know what’s coming, it’s still hard to watch . . .

Pet Sematary (1979)

This is very difficult to watch. Seriously. Parents with small children should probably move along to the next movie.

The Omen (1976)

You know why you don’t know many people named Damien today? Because of this movie.

Carrie (1976)

There is no way the new version will be as good as the original. No. Way. Here’s the climactic prom scene.

Halloween (1978)

Maybe the best horror film of all-time. Absolutely terrifying.

It (1990)

Evil clown. ‘Nuff said. I swear I can barely watch this scene . . .

Dawn of the Dead (2004)

Just a freakily good beginning.

Salem’s Lot (1979)

I literally had nightmares about this scene. Not even kidding.

Sweet dreams everyone!

So a couple NFL assclowns did some really stupid things today. First, here’s Sammy Watkins celebrating too early and getting caught from behind:

And here’s Lamarr Houston getting injured while celebrating a sack. By the way, his team was behind by 25-points when he did this.

Imagine this thing looking you square in the eye when you were 7-years old. Chilling.

Note: You gotta admit I’m good with the catchy titles, huh? Seriously, I’ve been writing attention grabbers like a boss.

This story took place when I was a kid, I guessing I was about 15-years old 7-years old. I was at the zoo with my family, and it was supposed to be an All-American summer day with Mom, Pops, and the sisters. By the way, my sisters? Mean as junkyard dogs to me. They just treated me brutally throughout my childhood, picking on me often and repeatedly. Keep in mind they are a little older than me, and by a little I mean a lot.

Here I was, basically the perfect kid and treated as such by my saint of a mother, and yet I was forced to put up with the evil shenanigans of those two. Did I mention they are much older than me? Anywho, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were behind this yarn I’m about to spin in some manner, either by telling me to look elsewhere while they ran or telling me there were free Cheez-Its around the corner and then bolting from the immediate area.

Long story short I got lost. Separated from my family unit. Wait. That last sentence sounded painful. Yikes. Anyway, I’m lost at the zoo, not a great place in which to be lost, and Jack Hannah was nowhere in sight. I remember being a little afraid at first, then the fear turned to full-out panic:

“Mom?”

“Mom?”

“MOMMY!!!”

At this point I’m sure my sisters were probably watching from behind the Lion Pit, grinning maniacally and hoping I’d wander in there and become the King of the Jungle’s brunch. I didn’t, thank God, and just decided to start walking and yelling “MOM!” from time-to-time. I mean, they’ll miss me sooner or later, right?

Right?

Eventually I came to this little sidewalk that cut through some trees, and in my infinite 7-year old wisdom I took it. I was sort of half-jogging down this sidewalk when it happened. I suddenly came face-to-face with an enormous 7-foot peacock. OK, it was probably 4-feet tall but I was about 3 1/2 feet tall so to me it was a monster. I froze. He froze. And then it happened. His tail feathers arched open and he made a charge at me like Honey Boo-Boo towards a bag of Funyuns. It was an absolutely horrific sight.

At that point I did what any reasonably intelligent 2nd grader would do – I ran like hell. Seriously, just scampered out of there like a rabbit on crack. Problem was, the peacock was pretty good at scampering as well. Random thought: If I ever start a band I’m naming it The Scampering Peacocks. But back to the chase. The peacock was right on my ass, just burnin’ rubber trying to get at me. I glanced over my shoulder and the news was not good – he was gaining on me. Right about then I had a horrifying thought. Can peacocks fly? I envisioned this winged beast piercing its talons right in the back of my neck, picking me up and flying me off to peacock parts unknown to be eaten at his leisure. But that didn’t happen. Instead, it caught me and ripped me to shreds pecked me on the back of my legs. I turned and tried to connect with a roundhouse kick but the demon bird was quick on its feet, deftly hopping out of the way. From that point on, though, he stalked me from a distance of about 5-feet, which in some ways was freakier than being attacked by this predator from hell. He was stalking me, waiting for me to make a mistake so he could swoop in for the kill.

In the end I was saved by a heroic zoo worker, a superhuman immortal who faced the monster head-on and ran it off. OK, it was an 83-year old female volunteer but she was a hero to me. Before vamoosing though, the behemoth fowl stopped to give me one last look, like, “This isn’t over little one. We shall meet again.”

The same lady actually helped me find my family and told them the story, so of course I had to endure years of ridicule from my aforementioned much older evil siblings. In addition, the whole ghastly experience led to a life-long aversion to peacocks.

Sad story. Sad indeed.buytrew34

Oh, and to this day I don’t watch NBC unless absolutely necessary.

Note: Some parts of this story were exaggerated to enhance the experience. It’s called creative license. What I’m trying to say is I love my sisters. They weren’t that mean to me. I, on the other hand, just might have been a less than perfect little brother. Sorry Sis and Sid.

I have to get one of these.

Adorable.

Adorable.

Discovery – Piotr Naskrecki was taking a nighttime walk in a rainforest in Guyana, when he heard rustling as if something were creeping underfoot. When he turned on his flashlight, he expected to see a small mammal, such as a possum or a rat. “When I turned on the light, I couldn’t quite understand what I was seeing,” said Naskrecki, an entomologist and photographer at Harvard University’s Museum of Comparative Zoology. A moment later, he realized he was looking not at a brown, furry mammal, but an enormous, puppy-size spider. Known as the South American Goliath Birdeater (Theraphosa blondi), the colossal arachnid is the world’s largest spider, according to Guinness World Records. Its leg span can reach up to a foot (30 centimeters), or about the size of “a child’s forearm,” with a body the size of “a large fist,” Naskrecki told Live Science. And the spider can weigh more than 6 oz. (170 grams) — about as much as a young puppy, the scientist wrote on his blog.

Nothing to see here, folks. No worries. Just a spider with the leg span “the size of a child’s forearm.” Hell, I may even get one as a pet. Let it run around the house like a puppy. I’m sure the ladies would love it when it ran up their leg for a nice snuggle.

Anyway, check out that South American Goliath Birdeater up there. Good God Almighty.

The Tampa Tribune: Some folks think clowns are funny, while other find them creepy. Residents of a California town find them mysterious as well — especially when they come out at night for no apparent reason.

That’s what has been reported in Wasco, where residents have spotted clowns roaming the streets in the middle of the night.

No reason has been given for their appearance, officials say, and they do not appear to be tied to any criminal activity.

I’ll tell you exactly what they’re doing. They’re planning to kill us all. Why? Because clowns are dirty, evil bastards who want to lurk in our nightmares, loom over our beds and kill us in our sleep. I’ve known this for years, and now the world is finally seeing these murderous, bulbous-nosed hobos for what they really are – untrustworthy people who hide their heinous intentions behind pancake make-up and orange fright wigs.

People, listen to me and listen good. The clowns are gathering. They’re donning their size 23 red shoes and loading their squirting flowers with battery acid. We must prepare ourselves accordingly. I shall have a confetti cannon and giant rubber hammer at the ready in preparation for the imminent clown attack. You, fine people of America, should too.

The Wasco Clown Slideshow is below, for your perusal. Before viewing, shelter your children.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Sweet Mother of God.

27364748


%d bloggers like this: