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Someone would’ve had to peel me off the ceiling.

I used to work with a Marine. Squad machine gunner, turned cable splicer working underground in vaults all day. Big dude, mean as hell. His wife would come home to find tupperware with phone books stacked on top, imprisoning a spider. He was that freaked out by them.

Speaking of insects…to have been a fly on the wall at that meeting with the Priestly Caste of our media. To have seen the look on Wolfie’s face while he called them dishonest liars / miscreants / hows my dick taste? would have been epic.

Oh boy Gromulin—you and me both. I detest that smug-faced George Stephanopoulos more than words can express. Lately I’ve been thinking about how to draw him as a comic animal (clearly I am giddy from Stoaty’s influence), sitting at the news desk. My first thought was a dog, but I can’t think of a dog breed I despise enough. Finally I remembered the ubiquitous south Texas burro. A mostly useless, little donkey.

So…when you moved out of that house did you leave all your stuff for the new owners or did you just burn the whole house down?

Napalm sticks to spiders.

I have absolutely no trouble dealing with spiders.

Unless it’s dark, then you’ll find me with Janna on the ceiling. Anything crawling on my skin in the dark shuts down all higher brain functions and energizes the fight/flight adrenaline dump. I will jump up (flight) and brush/swat madly at the crawly (fight) until it stops one way or another. Then I head for the liquor cabinet by way of the pill drawer to pick up 0.5 mg of lorazepam.

Ants. Or any bug like that where there’s a lot of the little suckers. Makes me itch just thinking of it.

I can kill anything on eight legs. But first I swear and cry. I’m iffy about snakes though. Husband once killed a snake in our pantry—with a carving knife. Nailed it right behind the head. Big snake—a six footer. He had to bury it twice because the bird dog dug it up so he could kill it too.

If y’all are so jumpy about creepy-crawlies, DON’T ever move to the Philippines, the damn place is infested. If it’s not ants, it’s spiders. If not spiders, it’s cockroaches. If not cockroaches, it’s lizards. If not lizards, it’s toads. If not toads, it’s rats.

It’s so bad I have to check my sheets and pillows each night before I sleep. Not to mention checking my shoes before I put them on.

My wife found a snake coiled around the base of the toilet one night. And by ‘found’, I mean she finally saw it near her feet only after she sat down and started doing her business.

There’s nothing like living on a tropical island.

Back several decades ago, I used to run for exercise. One fine summer day I ran through a path containing tall plants on both sides of the narrow trail. My eyes being only marginally better than they are now, I still failed to notice the large yellow and black Argiope that had spun its lovely web across the trail until I was nearly on top of it. With the last step or two my brain seemed to greatly inflate the apparent size of the spider just as it crashed into my chest.

I’m not sure but I think that the way my arms were flailing I might have looked like I was harvesting wheat with one of those big combines.

Such a great pic of Spider Hillary. Really like the fangs. And the wig, of course.

Why is there no pic of a pregnant Hillary? Pics of everything she does, but not one of a woman’s greatest womanly gift to mankind – a pregnant belly?

Maybe this is why Trump won’t prosecute? Some deep secret, buried for almost 40 years, and too ugly for Americans to see?

And five hundred spiders came boiling out of the mouth of the 300-year-old corpse of the Night Mother. Yeah, that’ll probably be tonight’s dream.
I haven’t felt so wonderful since a flock of flying roaches landed on me and crawled inside my shirt.

Heh.

Photoshop FTW!

Glad to have given y’all grounds for amusement….

My mom always said to leave spiders alone, as they kill and eat worse vermin. (She was a farm girl from Florida, so she had lots of exposure to the arachnids.) And I do that . . . unless the arachnid is on, or in, my car. I’m driving one day, stopped at a light, and a pale spider — and not a small one — swung down near my face. I killed it quick. All the time I had that car, I found smaller pale spiders outside it, visible against the dark gray paint.

I saw something very similar once. Me and a buddy (the arachnophobe) were standing around outside the lecture hall waiting for our class to start. A spider ran out on the sidewalk, and he hollared and stomped it.

Which is when about a million baby spiders swarmed from under his foot. I seriously thought we were gonna code the guy right then and there.

Janna, spiders walk around on ceilings with the greatest of ease.