picking my nose
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I used to believe that boogers were little bugs that went up your nose when you were asleep then died and dried up and you had to pick them out in the morning when you woke up.
whenever i was caught picking my nose by an older member of the family they would say "you will pick your brain out if you carry on doing that" for years i believed i was super intelligent because i must have at least picked half my brain away and i was still as clever as ever!
When I was young, I used to believe that in my nose were tiny purple machines that created boogers, and the boogers came down on conveyor belts and sat in my nose waiting to get picked
I sometimes used to have tonsil stones up until I got my tonsils out when I was 12. But I never knew what they were until a couple years ago (I'm 37 now); I had never even heard the term before, nor did I know they came from my tonsils (the doctor never even mentioned it)! Anyway, it embarrasses me to admit this, but up until age 8 or so I used to pick my nose and eat it (gross, I know -- I cringe when I think about it now). It was around the same time that I started getting tonsil stones, and up until I learned what they were and where they come from, I thought they were boogers that I had previously swallowed but somehow lodged in my esophagus and didn't make it all the way down to my stomach! I don't remember if it helped scare me into not eating my boogers, but my tonsil stones continued long after I had stopped that disgusting habit, and I never told anybody about it because I was embarrassed!
I used to believe that my bogeys were vitamins and that they were very good for me - so I used to eat them ! I have no idea why I thought that.
When I was small my dad cut two of his fingers half way off. If he caught me or any little kid picking their nose he would hold up his fingers and say you better stop or the buggers will eat your fingers off.
I used to think that if I picked my nose, "the boogerman" would pull me inside and I'd have to live in my nose for the rest of my life
I used to hate blowing my nose, so in order to get me to do it, my mom told me that my boogers were alive and screaming to get out. That explained the whistle sound my nose had when it was stuffed.
My mom used to tell me several times not to eat my boogers. Well I never listened up until one day she told me "you know you're boogers aren't really yours? Its reindeer snot." Even til now I get squeemish when I see a kid eat their boogers because I can just imagine someone sticking a finger up a deer's nose then into their own mouth.
my dad used to always tell me that if i picked my nose, i would get a 10 pound booger and my head would colapse
when I was a kid, I picked my nose a lot, and I always thought that there was a giant snot incide and that when you pick your nose you just take off the snot's children. I was always trying to reach the giant one.
When I was little I used to think little people lived up my nose and when I scratched my nose I would destroy there town or when I sneezed a tornado happened in there town.
I was not a smart kid
My mother used ot tell me that if I picked my nose the 'Nose Spider' would bite my finger off.
My 5 year old daughter believes if she picks her nose her bum will fall off !!
My mum used to tell me that if you ate your bogeys they would form a big ball of them in your stomach and the doctor would have to give you surgery to remove it.
For years I thought tinted windows on cars made it so you couldn't see inside AT ALL. I had a nasty habit of picking my nose and my family made fun of me a lot..so when I had to do it in the car, I would "hide" what I was doing by getting right up next to the window.
My grandmother told me that if you picked your nose and ate the snot then the bogies would turn into little white worms in your tummy (uuugh!). I still believed it even when my Mum said it was a lie - I thought she was just protecting me from the awful truth.
i used to believe that if you picked your nose to much a giant snotball would come out of the toilet and strangle you
When I was young my dad told me that when I picked my nose, a lump appeared at the back of my head, so even if I was facing away from him he would always know when I was doing it.
When I was 4, I met a crusty old man who sported half an index finger on one hand. Naturally I asked how he had lost half of that finger. He told me it was from picking his nose, that the boogers had eaten it right off. This sufficiently frightened me for years enough so that I couldn't even deal with my nose in any capacity, believing that it bore toxins similar to those contained in hydrochloric acid.
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