Tag Archives: rotting

Things That CREEP Me Out

Here are ten things that CREEP me the hell out:

Old timey dolls. What were people thinking in the olden days? Were they trying to scare their children to death? Who would want to wake up to see those evil little faces staring at you? The one above wants to swallow my soul.

Speaking of scaring children to death, jack in the boxes are another way to do it.
The anticipation of that thing popping out is enough to give me a heart attack.

Mayonnaise. SO GROSS! Barf!

Eyeballs. Specifically, touching or operating on them. The Lasik scene from Final Destination 5 almost did me in.

Bar soap*. Especially that slimy gunk between the bar of soap and the soap dish. Gag!

*More on this on a future post.

Mummies. I DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT! EVER! Put that thing back where you found it! (Plus, they carry curses).

Mold, eeeeeeeeeeeew!

Long toenails. Revolting! Clip that shiz before I lose my lunch!
(Also gross: long fingernails on men and those Lamisil toe fungus commercials).

Candle wax on birthday cake. And it gets on the best part – the frosting! I always worry that someone is going to blow too hard on the candles and spray that damn wax everywhere. If I’m in charge of candles, I put them all in one corner so the rest of the cake doesn’t get wax cooties.

Roaches. make. my. skin. Crawl.

So there you have it – ten things that I find utterly disgusting. Runners up were: hairy drain clogs,
hoarders, John Malkovich, porta potties and rotting, never brushed teeth.

What creeps you out? Let me know in comments!


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When He’s Thirty-One!

Tomorrow is a very special day for a very special guy. It’s Adam’s birthday! Hurray!! In celebration of this momentous occasion, may I present – “When He’s Thirty-One*.”

* sung to the tune of The Beatles “When I’m Sixty-Four.”

When he gets older, gray in his ginge,
Not too long from now,
Will he be as wrinkly as a leather bag?
Will he start to look like a hag?

Once he has age spots, walks with a cane,
Will he be as fun?
Will he still tease us, will he still please us,
When he’s thirty-one?

Oooooooo
Will he lose his mind?
Joints start to creak and pop,
Hope he won’t go blind.

Can he stay outré, cheeky and brash,
As the days go by?
Mellowing with age might modify his ‘tude,
I hope he stays cocky and rude.


Yelling at children, “Get off my lawn!”
Fly always undone,
Will he still tease us, will he still please us,
When he’s thirty-one?


Years advance, he poops his pants, Depends, Ensure, there is no cure,
for old – now he smells like pee.
Dementia’s made him vague,
Commenters stay away,
Mikey, Polt and Craig.


Passing out Werthers, gumming his food,
Trying to get it up,
Osteoporosis, disease and decay,
He’s sincerely rotting away.


Hearing loss, hemorrhoids, varicose veins,
Old age has begun.
Will he still tease us, will he still please us,
When he’s thirty-one?


Poo!

Happy Birthday Adam!

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