Okay, all the sudden birds start to freak me out.
Occasionally, something that has never bothered me before all the sudden will seem weird. Like I went through this cherub phase when I was just out of college. It was during that whole Cherub Romance poster fad. Everybody had one. Some people went overboard. I won’t name names, but the person who had an entire cherub bathroom complete with toilet cover and cherub wallpaper border knows who she is. I admit, I had the poster. Prominently displayed in my entryway. One day, I walked in, and bang. It hit me. That’s really creepy. I had to throw away the poster. And then it was like all cherubs creeped me out. Like willies and chills creeped out. And then it was all angel stuff. I just don’t like it.
Now, it’s birds. One day I looked at them and thought “They don’t have arms.” Which of course they do. Adapted arms. But with their wings back they just look all amputated. Creepy. Then I wondered what they would look like with arms. Ohdeargod. Now I can’t stop thinking about birds with arms. Now everything about them weirds me out. Their little beady eyes. Their pointy beaks. Those lizardy feet. They way they kind of hop around. Oh, now I’m just all creeped out
Thursday, April 16, 2009
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4 comments:
Don't make any plans to watch Hitchcock's 'The Birds'. I'm sure you've seen it before, but don't watch it now.
It freaks me out every time I watch it and I don't have a thing about birds (okay I HATE geese and I'm not fond of swans for the same reason I hate geese).
Yeah, I think I can skip the Birds. Same reason I wouldn't see that movie where slugs were the creepy critter(UGH!). Though I can see why Hitchcock would use birds; the do make a natural villain. A duck bit me when I was about 4. I still have this very clear memory of exactly what the inside of a duck's mouth feels like. Mean little bastards.
Birds are BIG in the local arts scene and in crafts now - I don't really get it - the whole bird motif thing is just overblown - let's move on to cats shall we?
It was recently brought to my attention that I may have come by my wing aversion honestly. When my great grandmother passes away, the sisters went through all of her nic-nacs and found that there were all these ceramic statues of pretty children, but they all had little stumps on their backs where MawMaw had snapped their wings off. Evidently she liked the pretty babies, but she thought the wings were sacreligious. Funny how those oddball genes will throw out of nowhere.
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