I am afraid that clowns will take over the world and make it compulsory for everyone to dress like a clown and wear that hideous make up. Yes, I have coulrophobia. I know this will never happen. But WHAT IF IT DID?!
I’m afraid of accidentally punching my boxing instructor. Cause she for sure would sock me back and then I’d finally have that black eye I have never had. Oh, wait, that’s a real fear. Though I would kind of like a black eye.1
I’m afraid of being alone on a desert island with only Moby Dick to read. Or even worse the complete works of Henry Miller. *shudder*
I’m afraid that the next season of Bun Heads won’t be as good as the first. I know it has many flaws but I heart it. What if its next season is like the third season of Veronica Mars? Worst TV season EVER.
I’m afraid of Pants Too High. And every single guy I have ever been with has thought that it was the funniest thing in the world to stomp about the place with his trousers/tracky dacks/pants/slacks/pj bottoms/whatever-you-call-them-where-you-live pulled up way too high solely to torment me. Kind of like this:
As you can see it is an ABOMINATION. It is not funny, it is horrifying. No man should be allowed to do it ever, under any circumstances. It is the fashion crime that goes too far. Frankly, it should be illegal. It has to stop.
But the worst of my minor fears is this one:
I am afraid that as I get older my arse will fall off. Don’t laugh! I have seen this happen with many older people. Admittedly more men than women. They develop this weird baggy seat of their jeans thing where there’s air when there should be an arse. How does one go through life arse-less? Does it make sitting down really uncomfortable? It scares me.
Am I alone? Surely someone else out there fears their arse falling off? We’ve all seen those baggy old people jeans.
- What? When I was little I thought black eyes were cool. [↩]
FYI – Sons of Anarchy showrunner Kurt Sutter is developing a new show called Diva. Clown. Killer. which is apparently about a “washed-up eighties rock star and her adult son, who is a party clown and assassin.” It’s a sitcom. LOL
Jen: Aaaarggghhh! *runs screaming for the hills*
Sadly, us old people look terrible in jeans. This is why, to protect the eyes of you young folk, I gave up wearing them.
Sherwood Smith: See, that’s no fair. Everyone has the right to wear jeans no matter how old we are and no matter how non-existent our arses! I refuse to accept a statue of limitations on jeans wearing.
Plus the eyes of young people can take it. Take a look at what some of them are wearing. Sheesh.
I feel like the boxing might help with the losing the backside bit. I hope so… I like my butt. 😀
Gretchen Ash: I feel compelled to say that my arse is right where it should be. It has not fallen off yet. I have hopes it never will.
Boxing is the best. You should see my abs! 🙂
I would like to reassure you about the loss-of-arse fear, but I can’t because the truth is, mine DID fall off. And worse, I didn’t even get older for it to happen. Instead, I just lost some weight. And virtually all of that weight (part of the weight loss was because I’ve had to go gluten free, and apparently Irish/Italian lineage means that cutting out bread is like crash dieting) that I lost came off my arse, so that none of my britches fit correctly and unless you’re gawping at my breasts, you can’t tell which way I’m facing while in a dress. And even worse than worse, I’m not allowed to fret over my arselessness because apparently I’m supposed to just be grateful that I’m thin, according to public opinion. At least I’m healthy, if arseless.
As for the black eye, I agree, it would be nice to have one. I managed to somehow avoid getting one so far, even when my nose got broken. Had a sporty black bruise that ran across both cheeks like war paint though.
Artemis Grey: You have my condolences.
A few months ago my grandma and I were in line at a shop and a little old lady walked by.
Grandma: Hey, did you see that? Look! Just look at that ass!!
Me: shhh.. she might hear you.
Grandma: Don’t worry at our age, we don’t hear! Does my ass look like that? When I get old, well older, don’t let me use pants if I look like that, all deflated and sad..
So now whenever my grandma visits she asks me if her ass is still in place.
Oh, great. Not only do I have to worry about a clown sneaking into my room at night and murdering me, but I also have to worry about a clown conspiracy? I’ll be hiding under my bed if you need me.