witches of eastwick, susan sarandon, michelle pfeiffer, cher, scary, terrifying

Things that scare the shit out of us

Who needs a Halloween costume when you already have that half-dead look? Or a sign hanging around your neck saying, ‘Please do not touch the witch – she’s fragile’. And anyway isn’t every day Halloween, given all the things that scare the shit out of us? Like…

The drawer

Everyone has one. Most likely in the kitchen. Who knows what horrors it contains. Open it at your peril – because something will probably be jamming it, which means you have to snake your hand in. So many batteries – but are they dead or alive? No one will ever know. Oh my God, are those loose staples? Abort, abort.

The weather

THE WORLD IS ENDING. We believe you Al Gore. We are recycling like motherfuckers. We are sorry for all the times we couldn’t be bothered and just shoved everything in the kitchen bin. We are against single-use plastic and have 25 non-disposable water bottles to prove it.

The weird stabbing pains

You know the ones, that shoot up your side and heat up one of your organs (we’re saying kidneys but frankly we are not 100% sure where our kidneys are) and you think ‘All the money I’ve spent on skincare’ and this is it, this is the end. And then it passes and you completely forget about it. Until next time. MWAH HA HA.

The word strategy

In an email, a calendar alert, a text, a meeting, a brainstorm, a dream, an off-the-cuff remark, on the television, wherever. *shudders* Both frightening AND boring. Quite an achievement.

The phone ringing

WHAT ON GOD’S EARTH IS THAT SOUND? WHO IN SATAN’S NAME CAN IT BE? WHO HAS DIED? Oh, hello Mum. Holy hell is that the DOORBELL???????

If someone asks what year it is

Please don’t ask us, please don’t ask us. Because we lost count around 2009.

That moment when you’ve put hand cream on and you realise you are stuck

The window is always too small for hand cream. At what point in the day do you have a moment to sit and do nothing while the frigging cream absorbs into your gnarled claws. So instead you slide and grease your way around, smearing hand cream all over everything.

A silent retreat

Imagine being silent for a week. Hold on, what’s that terrible noise? It’s the sound of your inner child SCREAMING.

When you accidentally turn on the top 40 and you have NO IDEA who the artists are

And scarier still, you don’t CARE.

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