Scarring victim Patrick writes:

My father took me to see The Mouse and his Child when I was five. I do not have good memories of this film. Put simply, it scared the shit out of me. It was also incredibly sad, at least to my five year old mind. By the end of the film, I was mortified. I couldn’t get it out of my mind either. My dad’s only comment afterwards was “Well, that stunk.” 33 years later I managed to find it, in it’s entirety, on youtube and tried watching it. I lasted about ten minutes. It really was that creepy. Here’s the link, if you dare:

Wow. I have never heard of this film (or book, for that matter), but after watching just the opening credits I am already creeped out. The description on Wikipedia makes this sound like a tour de force of horror:

The child mouse proposes staying at the shop to form a family, which the other toys ridicule. After falling from a counter and becoming broken, they are thrown in the trash. Outside, they become enslaved by Manny the Rat, who runs a casino in the city dump and uses broken wind-up toys as his slave labor force. With the aid of a psychic frog, the mice escape and meet various animal characters on a quest of becoming free and independent “self-winding” toys. They rediscover the elephant and seal, who are somewhat broken down, and manage to form a family and destroy the rat empire.

What. The. Hell.

Sounds like a cross between AI and a bad trip I once had… and by bad trip, I mean the time I drove through rural Missouri… yeah, that’s it.

Photo by crowolf
My now-husband and I have been doing this site for over a year now. It’s a true labor of love, since we don’t host any ads, send any spam, or sell any products. I apologize for the spotty lapses in posts, but we both have real jobs and it’s been a busy year. We have a pretty decent, if mostly silent, reader base, and the stats keep going up steadily. Spread the word!

Recent Changes
*added a link checker to keep old posts from breaking.
*added a new stat tracker
*gave the site a facelift
*added a star rating system to posts

We are also slowly expanding into to other realms of creepy subject matter. As a child, I was addicted to tales of Forteana, ghosts, oddities, and mysteries. Since this clearly warped my world view, we will be incorporating more contemporary and non-childhood related subject matter from time to time.

If there is something you would like to share with us, we are always looking for more and diverse content. You can submit your Scars here. Yes, I fixed the form. I had no idea that one of the plugins I was using for the form captcha had ceased to be supported, so that’s gone.

Stats of Interest
Most popular story: Tie- Talking Tina / Evil Muppets
Most Inexplicable Search Term: autocoitus (WTF?)

This image, culled from the excellent blog, My First Fail, reminded my of the single most scarring thing in my childhood, other than accidentally seeing my grandfather naked. Seriously, the man had legs like a bird and a belly like he was 9 months pregnant… eek.

The Exorcist

I read this book at an early age. It was the first book I had the keep in the laundry basket in the hall at night, lest it somehow come to life and get me. This was made worse by the fact we had Showtime (back when cable was new and you had that goofy box with the big dial on the tv) and previews for the film were being shown constantly. All it took was hearing Mercedes McCambridge bellowing in that ad for me to sink into a near catatonic state of terror. Compounding the issue further, I was severely asthmatic as a child (always have been what you might call an “indoor kid”), and the wheezing rattle of demonically-enhanced Regan McNeil reminded of that horrid drowning feeling a real nasty asthma attack brings with it.

I saw a midnight showing of the re-release in the theatre years ago with some friends. They said when the new “crab baby” scene came on I sank in my seat, my eyes tripled in size, and my mouth shrank to something resembling a cat’s anus. I wasn’t ready for that. I literally had to sit in my car for 15 minutes, rocking back and forth like William Hurt in “Alter States” trying to cast the image out of my head so I was steady enough to drive home alone at 3am. I almost crashed my car when I thought the reflection of a street light on the passenger window was THAT FACE from the movie. ARGH! I just had to look at it to get that link! AHHHHHH! *runs around office flapping hands maniacally and shuddering*

I have forced myself to watch it several times, but I still freak out just seeing a screen cap from the film (see above). I dreaded writing this post, knowing I would have to track down images and clips. I seriously tried to muster the courage to hunt for a clip… but I really can’t do it. Google it yourself. Bear in mind, I am not a shrinking violet. I love horror movies. This just hits me at the core of my being.

Oh the humanity. Sure, polyester bell bottom pantsuits were all the rage, but why put a child in flammable clothing that sounds like a viper is chasing them with each step they take?

Or how about the gratuitous use of denim, where denim was never meant to go?

That’s my dad, in a denim 3-piece suit. Yes, I was a Blue Bird. WoHeLo!

Here is a photo of my lil’ sis and me on my CHEETAH, which was the most AWESOME thing ever!! I loved that bike and literally rode it until the wheels fell off. But, dear gods, check out my SHOES. Seriously, Fashion Faux Pas Fairy, what were you thinking?

This isn’t so much my scar as it is my mother’s. My mom (pictured above, with my grandparents in the back ground. She’s going to kill me for publishing that photo.) was the WORST person to watch any remotely sad movie with. She would sob uncontrollably at the drop of a hat at the oddest things. Don’t even ask about the time we saw Bambi in the theater with her. I only have vague memories of Rankin-Bass’ “Here comes Peter Cottontail“, but I remember my mother sitting at the faux-wood formica dining room table, weeping like Kennedy had been assassinated at the scene where Antoine the Caterpillar is left behind. I have been struggling for years to track down this movie and finally found some really crappy youtube footage. Upon review… my mother is insane. But then I knew that already. Embedding is blocked, so here is a link to the video. Abandonment issues start at about the 8:25 mark.

Ah, Rankin-Bass, on par only with the Muppets for fearsome childhood fare. Mad Monster Party was one of those films you saw as a kid and promptly blocked from your memory, only to have it later emerge in vague snippets. What was that? Was that real or did I dream it? Phyllis Diller?!? I was in my late 20s when someone was FINALLY able to put a name to this film for me. I haven’t seen it since I was a child, but I remember that of all the monsters in the the castle, Phyllis Diller was by far the scariest thing.

When I was very young, maybe 8 or 9, I made the mistake of letting my grandfather know about my fears regarding nuclear war.  Before I tell you his response I want to ask you to put yourself in his place.  Your grandchild is looking to you for some kind of comfort.  You are a retired USMC Gunnery Sergeant that fought in WWII and Korea.  So, what do you say to the boy?

Take a moment or two on this.

Here is what I got.  He held up one hand and began to tick off the names of military bases in the area.  In eastern NC during the 70′s there were easily half a dozen or more.  Then he leaned in close, I can still remember the feel of his breath sliding over my face as he looked me in the eye and laid his large hand on my shoulder.  He said, the words that have been etched in my brain since that moment, “Don’t you worry about that boy.  With all those bases around here we’ll be what they call a primary target.  They’ll hit us with an air-burst nuke that’ll take out everything for miles.  We won’t have to worry about it after that.”  I asked if we would die.  He responded, “Yes.”

In his place what else is there to say?  You lie or tell the truth.  It took me years to understand and appreciate what he had done. I had asked an adult question and in his mind it required an adult answer.  I don’t know if I could do that to a child but I can see why he did.  At least he was honest with me.

Why??? WHY???

There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There’s no knowing where we’re rowing
Or which way the river’s flowing
Is it raining?
Is it snowing?
Is a hurricane a-blowing?
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of hell a-glowing?
Is the grisly reaper mowing?
Yes! The danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they’re certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing!

I LOVED Willie Wonka when I was a kid. Still do. While I have never considered myself a purist when it comes to most media (remakes or “reboots” can be valid reinterpretations of any work), I think Tim Burton overestimated his abilities when he took on this classic. The biggest disappointment? The lame boat ride scene that took the place of this completely Whiskey Tango Foxtrot moment from the original film. I mean SERIOUSLY?? FOR THE LOVE OF ZEUS, THEY DECAPITATED A FREAKIN’ CHICKEN! I remember freaking out about the centipede and my father trying to comfort me with the weak explanation that it was actually just a licorice rope. Uh huh. Sure.

Thank you for traveling with Jeffrey Dahmer Cruise Lines, where comfort is King!

Photo by Liqueur Felix
Unless you have been.. well, living in a cave… you have probably seen Ted’s Caving Page. If you haven’t, it’s a classic, skin-crawling read of a man’s obsession with finding out what’s lurking beneath us all.

The dog began exploring as soon as we let her off the rope. She was in hog heaven, sniffing and darting about around our feet… At the point the cave splits into four passages the dog seemed to run out of juice. She just stuck right by either B or me. That seemed kind of odd. As we progressed further into the cave she would only stay by B. She seemed edgy. Like she saw something she didn’t like. As we approached the short drop-off before the hole, she stopped and would only come further after we coaxed her. The hair on her back stood on end. Finally, as we got to within 20 feet of the hole she began to whimper, and hide behind B. Her tail was between her legs and she was cowering down on the ground. Strange! I have seen her square off with dogs twice her size, but now she acted as if Satan himself was lurking in the darkness.

Link to Ted’s Caving Page