You’re in a nightclub propping up the bar, when a lady eyes you up from the dance floor, urging you over with her eyes. You can’t go over. Why not? Because she's a fucking beast who every one of your mates has already knobbled silly, and she stinks of rotten old vegetables. Oh, and you also have chorophobia, a fear of dancing. The Glee Club haunt your dreams.













The fear of beautiful women may sound bizarre, but some queer folks do actually suffer from it. Whether they are actually allowed to be considered "men" after they are diagnosed, we aren't quite sure, but they do apparently exist. We like to think our website scares the piss out of them.

Billions of people are scared of snakes, spiders and rats in this world, and for good reason: they're dodgy looking fucks with myriad hidden agendas and big teeth. A mere handful of wimps though, have a similar fear struck into them by the thought of otters. This pathetic bunch are known to suffer from lutraphobia.

Does the thought of summer and people showing their midriffs freak you out? Have you lost all focus on reality and become scared of stupid things that really aren't scary as a desperate excuse to make you "different" from everyone else? You’ve got omphalophobia, the fear of a rank belly button.

Depressing places like Hull don't exist in France. But garlic baguettes, snails in cooking pans and men smoking Gitanes do. To some people this is a consequence of a culture gone wrong and should just be avoided and mocked at all times. To others it is as petrifying as taking a holiday in Clacton-on-Sea. They are called gallophobics.


There is a small man with white hair that evokes fear into some members of the public. With us it's a troll-like hybrid of Louis Walsh and Jimmy Saville, for others it's that harmless German rogue, the pope. All he does it read the Bible out loud. Whatever next?

If you have this slightly-less-gay-but-still-a-little-dumb phobia, don't live in a city with rivers. The sight of a bridge will make you want to cry and run in the other direction. And the opening of the Millennium Bridge in London, which swung more openly than Abi Titmuss on crack, will haunt your sappy little head forevermore.

Zombies rising from the dead are a fairly scary prospect. Avenging perverted ghosts another. Hell, death itself isn't a bag of chips: spending eternity floating around in senseless nothingness with no cards or computer games to keep you occupied. Stupid then that some pathetic souls suffer a fear, not of the aforementioned atrocities, but of tombstones and the moss growing on them. Idiots.

The words of poetry makes you feel sick. Not in the "give it a rest, you soppy c*nt" sort of way. No, you are so soft you are actually physically repulsed by anything that resembles poetic verse. Keats is your Kryptonite and literary bullies chant Wordsworth at you to wind you up. Pathetic.



Presumably the any readers of this article will have skipped the phobia between seven and nine, so FYI, that was about placophobia and - look it up. This one is the last on the list and is the scurge of accountants and mathematicians the world over - the fear of the figure, don't read now... eight!