I was bathing the other day and found a spider leg floating in the bathwater. This is a whole lot worse than finding a whole spider in your bathwater, because 7/8ths of the spider is still around somewhere, and it’s most likely attached to a large body with fangs. I looked through the folds of the shower curtains and in my body wash pouf. No spider. So it was probably in my ear, laying eggs. Two months from now I’ll wake up with a burst eardrum and a million tiny spiders crawling over my face.

I’d like to take a moment to expound on how much I hate spiders. I HATE HATE HATE HATE SPIDERS! Why did God invent spiders? I have no idea. Probably so we could have something to squash. Spiders who get into my apartment meet an untimely death with the vacuum cleaner. One spider had the misfortune to have me find it skittering inside my brownie pan. I washed it down the garbage disposal and pureed it.

I’m making it sound like there’s an infestation of spiders in my apartment. There’s not, really. I keep my patch of heaven very tidy. In fact I’ve wondered if it’s the same spider crawling out of the vacuum / putting itself back together. Things have been better ever since I stuck the offenders on toothpicks and posted them in the sidewalk crack outside my door. Infiltration has hit an all-time low.

That’s right, spiders. Look at what happened to your little friends. Mwah ha haaaa!

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