How to...

... Conquer your Fear of Things.

WARNING: This post is not for the faint of heart.

Spring has sprung, and my apartment is now home to various cree-ee-eepy crawlers (not the ones you make and bake from a tray of molds) and buggies galore.
Unfortunately for me, this includes spiders... I have the very same feeling for spiders that a one Mr. Ron Weasley does... that is to say, I DON'T LIKE 'EM!!



Not only that? Spiders in Chicago are fucking HUUUUGE... AND, AND AND there's a slight rumor and possibility of coming upon a BROWN RECLUSE SPIDER. I had to research spiders on the internets to identify the vomit, woof, disgusting large ones I would see skittering around my apartment.
They are not brown recluse... phew... but they are probably wolf or hobo spiders. And I have to beat them to death with my own shoes when I see them, so I have to conquer my FEAR of them. How do I do this, you ask?
It is simple. I try to take away their power to scare by giving them a funny nickname. This worked so wonderfully well in a Supernatural episode where Sam and Dean came upon an evil clown. I couldn't just not watch the episode, I mean... it's Supernatural for chrissakes... so I had to conquer my fear of that one scary clown.



Here he is... nightmare inducing, yes.
His new name? Mr. Fartleywinks. You see? Not so scary after all. You're welcome.
I have a copyright on that name, so don't even try to steal it.

So, now back to use that old trick to conquer my fear of spiders!!



Oh! Hehe... oh... it's a lot... (dry heave), excuse me... lot bigger than I remember... and hairy, and... skittery... and (vomits in mouth), excuse me, I just... vomited in my mouth a little bit. I can't do this... I can't do this...
Still afraid of spiders.
But what of the other skittery little creatures infesting my apartment?

Silverfish.



Woof.

Well, again... they make me want to barf. They move like shifty little backwoods children, wearing pillowcases for clothes and putting nails in the road to ensnare innocent motorists so that the guy in their village who likes to wear other people's faces as a mask with the rusty chainsaw can have MORE victims to carve up in his basement. So, they will get names that fit their general appearance.
Names like... Uncle Sasparilla, Grampa Ebenezer, Cousin Ermengarde...
I killed Uncle Sasparilla last night. He was in my bathroom. Does anyone have a problem with that?? No. Good. Moving on...

Not in my apartment, but oftentimes in my thoughts if it's around Halloween or if I'm home alone are ghosts. Ghosts scare the shit out of me, yet they fascinate me and I can't turn down a good ghost story, ghost tour or scary movie... the price? A few nights without sleep. No big whoop.
Here's a recent ghost lady that has ruffled my feathers a bit:



Mary Shaw.
Hey, you know what's not okay? An unnatural love for dummies.
You know what else? Having a creepy poem about how you kill people... ahem:

Beware the stare of Mary Shaw
She had no children, only dolls
If you see her, do not scream
She'll rip your tongue out at the seam

You know what Mary Shaw? NO!!
Your new name is Ethel O'Brien, named after our old crazy neighbor who called our house once to tell me that our front door was on fire. I was fairly certain it was not. When I looked to see what the eff she was talking about, all I could see was a Christmas wreath with a red ribbon flowing in the wind. Yes, Ethel... a red ribbon = fire... in operas. In operas they do... not in real life.

So there you have it... just one of the many ways for highly imaginative people to chill out when they come across the more scarier things in life.
Some of you may note that I do not include aliens in this post (Mark and Liz)... because aliens are not scary.
Here are some examples of aliens pointedly NOT being scary, enjoy:


Mac, of Mac and Me... he is undercover in a teddy bear costume in McDonalds. Would something scary inspire synchronized dancing and then do a little soft shoe on the counter of a McDonalds??


Slow dancing aliens. Scary? No. Adorable? Yes.