Thursday, June 15, 2006

Spiders

I hate them. I want to kill the little bastards. Two legs, good. Four legs, good. Eight legs, bad. I don't think I've ever met something with eight legs that I've liked. It just seems unnatural. And they are vengeful mofos, you just wait and see. Piss off a spider and you're in for it.

Can I admit something to you? I'm a little bit afraid of spiders. I can handle most of them. I'll naturally stomp or squish with the best of them, but there's a point where that confidence and hunting instinct turns to fear. And that point is when the body of the spider gets to the size of a nickel, not the whole spider with legs, we're just talking the body. That's when those things, at least in my instinctual mind, turn from insects into animals.

And then they fight back. Spiders have big spider teeth that leave bites that bleed, that bleed badly. And they can climb up walks and jump like little ninjas. And I'm scared of little spider ninjas. At that point, maybe the spider and I can come to an agreement and share the apartment. But I will not do its dishes. Or laundry.

I don't like killing a spider that crunches when I squish it. Not the best feeling. You can kind feel and hear it at the same time, a weird mix of the senses. Not pleasant. Also, what about the sprinting spider that runs from the kleenex of death. And when you do kill him, he leaves a huge smear mark of guts and green spider blood. What a little f*cker. Now I have to clean the wall, you little bastard. Told you they were vengeful.

And you want to know what is the worst? When a spider is just chillin' on the wall, and you go to squish it with toilet paper, and just as you're about to get the bastard, he jumps. He supermans off the wall and falls behind the dresser in your bedroom. Shit. Now you have to worry about spider revenge. That's like doing a driveby and missing. Now you have a pissed off wall crawler in your bedroom. And he knows you tried to kill him. Now you have to worry about him rapelling down from the ceiling onto your bed at night. You'll wake up with you legs looking like chicken pox from all the spider bites you'll receive while you sleep. Damn spider vengence.

And what about the people with those spider vacuums. (Tangent: "Vacuum" is such a weird word. I misspell it almost every time. Doesn't it seem like it should be spelled "vaccum?") Spider vacuums--what is up with these? You're so afraid of spiders, that you're willing to drop eighty bucks on a hand-vac with a spider tray. I imagine the spider vengence in this situation is pretty high. Like if the vacuum doesn't kill them, they just live in the vacuum bag, waiting until you go do dump them in the garbage. But all the spiders in there have devised a plan. They've been waiting for the bag to open, and now they all jump at your face and bite your eyes. Or what if you get a nickel-body spider and he plugs up the vacuum hose because he's so big. And he's staring at you, like "you're so dead if I get out of this hose." That's why I don't have a spider-vac. I don't want to piss off the nickel-spiders.

The movie Arachnaphobia sacred me as a child.

5 comments:

James Wood said...

Dude, thanks for the laugh. I stumbled on your blog because of the funny Mitch Headberg (RIP) and sticking around has paid off.

I don't want to freak you out or anything, but one time, while I was asleep, a spider crawled in my ear. I pretty much freaked out and screamed like a little girl. Sometimes I still have little freak-outs because of it.

Damn spiders.

Nick said...

So true. So very, very true. I want to be a man about those little bitches and yet...

J-Mon said...

I hate spiders... and they hate me... I'm ok with this.

Pedro said...

...or you could all grow a sack and realize that spiders only scare little miss muffet on her tuffet, not big boys with college degrees.

As Gnarls would say...just a thought.

Vegas, baby! Vegas.

War said...

Don't even get me started on spiders...