I should know. Ever since enduring a prostate cancer scare a few years ago, the very mention of the word ‘cancer’ puts me in danger of shitting my pants. I’m carcinophobic. The wife’s an arachnophobe; the mere sight of even a tiny little money spider reduces her to a gibbering wreck.
Phobias come in all shapes and sizes, and are often weird and wonderful. You might be scared of clowns, in which case you’re coulrophobic. Petrified of string? You’re linonophobic. The list goes on and on…
But here’s a new and truly bizarre one for me though. Emmerald Barwise, a 36-year-old model, admits to being ‘poophobic’ **. Indeed, the lass is so troubled by the problem that she once collapsed on a photoshoot after baking one for an amazing two weeks. Struth.
I do draw the line at her going on C4’s ‘Know Your Shit; Inside Our Guts’ to bare her soul on the subject; there’s such a thing as too much information. Nevertheless, speaking as one who regards a sit on the bog with a good book to hand as the spice of life, I can only imagine the trauma that the poor lass must endure.
Poophobia must be a terrible burden to labour under every day, and I’m sure that I speak on behalf of all of IsAC’s membership when I extend deepest sympathies. Just let it all go girl, let it all out. Trust me, it’ll be a load off your mind.
** Yes there is indeed a medical term for it; it’s called ‘coprophobia’.
Nominated by: Ron Knee