October 23, 2012

You know that feeling when you remember something that terrified you as a child and you can’t seem to shake it until you’ve confronted it and realized how ridiculous you’ve been for the past xyz years? I had that feeling the other day. I tried to solve it with Google maps, but I couldn’t remember where I was supposed to go.

When I was growing up, there were a few notable houses in my neighborhood that went above and beyond the call of duty when it came to Christmas decorations. There was a street where every house was covered in a vast array of lights, (Peacock Lane) and another Peacock wannabe that, at the end of a long cul-de-sac had a weird illuminated nativity that freaked the daylights out of me. Why? Hell if I know.

The last house that I was thinking of, used to put a chalkboard sign in their front yard that had an “x days to Christmas” countdown; but the thing that always got me is that they had a life size horse and buggy on their porch. It. Was. FUCKING. TERRIFYING. Like where in the fuck do you keep that shit when it’s not Christmas? In your basement? “Hey, Grandma, you’re going to have to sleep in the buggy tonight…” WHAT. That house has cemented my long-time unease with life sized inanimate objects that are based on animate ones. I was recently able to make progress on this fear when, at my college halloween party at Madame Tussaud’s, a group of my friends and I got really drunk and defaced Jessica Simpson. It was better when I found out another group of my friends was even more drunk and bit of Lindsay Lohan’s nose. #THUGLIFE.

In any case, excuse me while I poop myself thinking about this house.

The other thing I got to thinking about is that I’m also really uncomfortable with Victorian houses. They freak the living daylights out of me; and come to find out, there are like, twenty million different types of victorian architecture so of *course* I just became well versed in the fact that Mansard loft conversions are baller, but the entirety of a Mansard house would keep me awake for a week… (Other notable examples are Queen Annes and Gothic revivals.)

AND: because what good post about me being afraid of things  wouldn’t be complete with pictures, I present…. Shit that is scary. A photo essay, by: Mac R.


Let’s start with the John Mock house. This frightening behemoth is right near my brother’s best friend from highschool’s house. SO I’VE DRIVEN BY THIS SUCKER A LOT. IT IS TERRIFYING.


This one always gets me too. It’s a hotel in Eureka, CA.



You may be thinking to yourself, “My, you are afraid of some strange things…”

…If you think these are strange, I’m also afraid of Doris Day.


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