Creepiosity
A hilarious guide to the unintentionally creepy.
The Blowy Guy in Front of the Mattress Store or Car Dealership
A few years ago, someone got the bright idea to put an air-powered flailing stick man in front of businesses to attract attention. Besides the fact that this creature looks like a tortured spirit just released from the Lost Ark, let’s think more practically: has one person ever, in the history of these things, driven by and seen on and said, "I had no interest in or need for a car, but after seeing that freakish monstrosity — hell, I’m gonna stop in and buy me the most tricked-out Kia they make!"
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Animal Mascots Who Want You to Eat Their Kind
Many times on a sign for a fast-food joint there’s a mascot cow who’s pitching hamburgers or a pig who wants you to eat some yummy smoked ribs, which is wrong in so many ways:
1. I don’t need to be reminded that I’m eating an animal.
2. Much less a cute animal in a jauntily askew chef’s hat.
3. Much less an animal that’s clearly suicidal.
It’s so disturbing it almost makes you want to become a vegetarian. (If not for the fact that adorable, suicidal pigs are dee-lish!)
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Little Kids With Old-People Names
Sure, child abuse in the form of beatings and basement imprisonment grabs all the headlines, but there’s a wider spreading form of child abuse going on all around us: the parents who saddle their kids with old-people names. Hey, hip, cosmopolitan mom, do you really believe your six-year-old girl is happy to be named Blanche? You didn’t think thaere was any chance your fourth grader might get beaten up because his name is Herbert? They’re not "so square they’re hip," people — they’re just square. And creepy. Just ask my daughter Gertrude.
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Guys With Beards But No Mustaches
Simple rule: mustache without beard, okay. It’s a little Village Person/porn star/kid who married his teacher for me, but at the end of the day, it’s perfectly fine. Beard without mustache, on the other hand? Tough to look at. So please, C. Everett Koop, Gorton’s Fisherman, and the guy who sells Christmas trees out of the Vons parking lot on Reseda Boulevard in Los Angeles — add the ‘stache or lose the beard. You’re making us all uncomfortable.
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Necco Wafers
Every March at the annual creepiologist convention (held at an abandoned carnival in upstate New York), we have a lot of fun debating creepiosity levels. This year, the discussion turned to candy, and it got a little heated. The room was basically divided into two camps: those who thought black Chuckles were the creepiest candies, and the more intelligent group who knew for a fact that Necco Wafers were way creepier.
The case for the Necco Wafers is clear-cut. They’re pastel-colored (candy is meant to be colorful), they taste like shit (candy is not meant to taste like shit), and they’re reminiscent of Communion wafers, breaking the number-one rule of candy: it’s not supposed to remind you of religion in any way. (Jujubes are creepy for the same reason.)
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Fish With People Faces
You go to the local aquarium (or "fish prison" as I like to call it) and spend a few hours looking for the Rolls-Royces of the underwater world, the fish that glow blue. Unfortunately, along the way, you’re bound to come across the creepiest of the underwater creatures: the fish with the people face. They have the nose, sometimes the mustache — I swear to God, I once saw a fish that was the spitting image of my Uncle Irwin. And I’ll be honest: Uncle Irwin’s face on a human being was never a walk in the park. But on a fish? Horrifying.
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Bee Beards
Having never invited a swarm of bees to settle on my face and body, it’s hard to say what the motivation behind this can be. To look cool? Nope. To impress the fairer sex? Negative. To make the rest of us really, really uncomfortable? I think we’ve found our winner.
PHOTO CREDIT: Ellie Conlon, www.thistledewfarm.com
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Grandma Candy
I’ve never been sure where grandmas shop for candy, but it can’t be anywhere in the United States. Here’s what’s on the hit parade of every grandma candy dish I’ve ever encountered:
1. Something wrapped in colored cellophane in the shape of a raspberry (but tasting nothing like one).
2. Something way too small that tastes like licorice.
3. The round hard candy ball that’s the exact size of a five-year old’s windpipe.
Is this a conspiracy? Why don’t old people stock up on candy that’s good? Does the AARP also own the Way Too Small Candy That Tastes Like Licorice company? I will get to the bottom of this. I may have to seduce your grandma to get some answers, but rest assured, the world will find out the truth.
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Pictures of the Dishes on the Wall at the Chinese Takeout Joint
The photo of the shrimp with lobster sauce has a small burn mark on the side; somebody has scrawled something pornographic on the barbecued spareribs; the picture of General Tso’s chicken has been there since General Tso was actually in power. No matter what, we can all agree that these faded, dirty pictures aren’t helping sell any Chinese food; all they’re doing is giving customers the creeps. The calendar with the hot Chinese girls can stay, though.
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Any Half-Person/Half-Animal
I was sitting around with a bunch of my friends watching a baseball game when my buddy Dennis, out of nowhere, in a soft southern drawl said: "Any half-person/half-animal… I hate that shit." Naturally, it quieted the room since we were talking about the Mets middle relief at the time, but it struck us, despite how random the statement was, that it was true: we all hate that shit. The Minotaur, the centaur, the Sphinx — all really, really creepy. And I have to agree with what Dennis later said: "I’m glad they’re all extinct."
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
Creepiosity
Old-Tyme Porn
As you, above anyone else, know, there are all kinds of different porn on the internet for every different taste: young, old, black, white, midget, non-midget, etc. Among the most interesting is the porn from the silent-movie era. Just imagine, you could be beating off to the exact same porn that Babe Ruth did. As a baseball fan, that’s pretty damn cool. But before you finish the job, there are two things to remember about what you’re watching:
1. Everyone in it is dead. Slightly arousing? Sure. But also a little creepy.
And , more important…
2) That’s someone’s grandma doing the Victrola repair man!
Think about it: somebody is out there watching these films on the internet, squinting, and saying to themselves, "Is that my Ya Ya?" Pretty disturbing.
From the book Creepiosity by David Bickel. Excerpted by arrangement with Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company. Copyright © 2010
