I’ve been attacked by bulls and oxen weighing up to 2,000kg and survived.
I watched my first horror, Nightmare on Elm Street, age 8, and loved it.
I beat the final boss in Spyro II: Gateway to Glimmer.
But I’m not totally fearless. In fact, I’m afraid of seven things…
Don’t trust ’em. Nobody needs that many legs for legit business.
It’s not that I don’t like children. It’s that I’m terrified of them and think they should live in drawers.
My list of reasons to remain child-free currently extends to #3,201,283 (which is ‘They might want to use my Nintendo DS when I’m using it’), but #1 is KIDS TELL THE TRUTH.
Lies are an amazing invention. It takes kids too long to discover them.
They have no filter. They tell the truth and make observations about the world at top volume.
“MUUUUUM, MUM, WHY IS THAT LADY SO FAT?”
“DAD, DAD, WHY DO YOU MAKE ME BRUSH MY TEETH WHEN THAT MAN HAS CLEARLY NEVER DONE IT IN HIS LIFE?”
“MUMMY, WHY ARE YOU TELLING AUNTIE SUE SHE LOOKS PRETTY WHEN YESTERDAY YOU SAID SHE’S REALLY LET HERSELF GO SINCE MARRYING UNCLE DAN?”
I’m a) British, b) an extreme introvert, and c) on sweet, sweet drugs for social anxiety. The very last thing I need is people telling me the truth about myself. I require a veneer of false politeness, sexual repression, and strict adherence to safe conversational topics like the weather and… well, just the weather, please.
Children are also evil geniuses. My friend and I took her kid to the supermarket. He wanted some kind of sweet thing, she said no, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “NO MUMMY DON’T HIT ME AGAIN!” and wouldn’t stop until she gave him the sweet thing.
3. People who order salad in restaurants with any other option but salad.
There’s something wrong with them; who knows what else they’re capable of?
This is also one of the reasons I distrust you.
4. Tears (as in liquid secretions from the eye area, not rips)
I’m a sporner. I enjoy watching the popping and excision of cysts, pimples, lipomas, blackheads, and other assorted pockets of wonderfulness.
I’m fine with blood. I think I’d make a good nurse, as long as I didn’t have to comfort anybody or pretend I cared about their pain.
But tears freak me the fuck out.
I seek out the most extreme horror I can find and am inevitably disappointed, but you know what does scare me? The scene in Hannibal where Mason Verger arranges for a child’s tears to be squeezed into his martini, which he then drinks.
Even writing about it has made me feel sick. I’ll have to go and watch The Waterfall Cyst to cheer me up.
6. Phone calls
7. Being turned into a human centipede
If you need more than the title of this one to understand, I’m scared of YOU.
What are you scared of?