I'm absolutely insane... anyone else like this?

you have a dog thats afraid of stickers?..can I have him( or her) ?..

Nope.... too much fun putting stickers on her back and watching her do donuts chasing them! I guess you'd do the same thing huh? :lipssealedsmilie:
 
Nope.... too much fun putting stickers on her back and watching her do donuts chasing them! I guess you'd do the same thing huh? :lipssealedsmilie:

That is the meanest thing I have ever heard! That is animal abuse!!! I am so calling someone..you bring me the dog now, ..meanie!!!
 
That is the meanest thing I have ever heard! That is animal abuse!!! I am so calling someone..you bring me the dog now, ..meanie!!!

LOL... I am not a meanie. It's a game and she enjoys it.... 5 minutes of spinning back and forth, 10 minutes of fetch, and 15 minutes of wrestling... great doggie exercise routine.
 
LOL... I am not a meanie. It's a game and she enjoys it.... 5 minutes of spinning back and forth, 10 minutes of fetch, and 15 minutes of wrestling... great doggie exercise routine.

Meanie!!!! The thought of that poor dog with a sticker on it has me trying to hold in my lunch!! That is so gross!
 
judge, you are a freak. :headshake2: where did this phobia come from? some terrible grade school hazing incident?
 
judge, you are a freak. :headshake2: where did this phobia come from? some terrible grade school hazing incident?

Honestly, I don't know, it just developed as I got older. At first it was price tags that you had to peel ( scrape) off, you know the little annoying ones, that are white or bright orange?..Then it was any price tag, ..then it was any sticker, now its anything paper and sticky, beer labels, and thing like that, ..Ugh, my tummy is turning just thinking about it!

If I go to a yard sale and see a 400 gallon tank for 5 dollars, if it has a sticker on it, I couldn't buy it, unless someone else promised me they would remove it, ..( i have learned that if you ask the person selling it they look at you extremely funny:) )

It kills me. They stick to stuff, including me..and it doesn't shake off, ..the thought of one getting stuck in my hair, is enough to paralyze me with fear. ugh!


remind me not to ever come to a meet for here, for some reason I think everyone may come running after me with stickers!...
 
Jerry Juhl said:
Late.
Late at night.
When the world sleeps.
And I am here alone.
And here I come some nights to confront my fears.
They're here...my fears.
They are always with me.
Lurking, scurrying, hiding, and waiting.
They come!
And they go.
Though they are gone they are never far and here alone at night I can confront them.
There they are...confronted fears!
Fears of hunger, fears of pain, fears of missing that last late train.
Fears of dentists always drilling, fears that no one will be willing....to see me as you know I really am.
Once they are counted and compelled...they can quickly be dispelled...
Like figments of my own imagination.

But always, there are other fears.
Fears of snakes, fears of cats, fears of maître d's and rats.
An irrational black terror...that someday I may get fat.
Fear of elevators falling, and the taxman someday calling
And the accidental walling of myself up inside a clammy, dank, old, dingy cellar where the spiders weave about my tummy
And the worms, and bugs and crawly things squirm and squiggle at my person. (Oh, I love it!)
Once they are counted and compelled, they can quickly be dispelled...

But then there are other fears.
Fears of bullets, there's a dread.
Fear of baldness on the head.
Fear of waking up one morning, to discover that you are dead.
Once they are counted and compelled, they can quickly be dispelled...
Like figments of your own imagination.

Then there is the last fear.
Just about the time I'm past fear.
The one that really is final.
It will come.
Yours...and mine'll.
In the darkest of the night it will come without a fight.
It will count me and compel me.
It will casually dispel me.
For I am just a figment of its own imagination.

I too delight in the storm gods gallivanting about the cobbled skies in their hobnailed boots. My Dog, an Norwegian Elkhound misaptly named Thor, lives in utter terror of the thunderboomers. At 9 years old, he'll scamper up a slick flight of hardwood steps to sleep next to my bed when one comes in doggie earshot, and muzzy with sleep, I get to carry all 80 lbs of the silly lummox down the steps in the morning, because the the one thing he fears just a little less than thunder is a hard wood floor.

For me, I'm scared of falling backwards. So I take a martial arts class and make sure I get thrown extra to get over it.
 
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