Monday, August 30, 2010

8-Legged Freaks

Part the First
I had an unfortunate encounter with a spider. I had to make a card for my old roommate's wedding. I got out some patterned paper and started working. I looked up when something caught my eye. A spider ready to pounce and eat my face off. Well I wasn't about to have any of that! So I took a conveniently located plastic container with a lid and flicked the spider into it and shut the lid. No sooner had I done this than the spider started convulsing. I was the very definition of disgustingly fascinated. I had a lot to do that night...instead I spent the next 45 minutes watching this spider molt. You read correctly. The bugger shamelessly molted right in front of me. All 8 of his nasty legs gathered together in the air and then he slowly and gruesomely shed his old skin. There are no words to even describe this. Google a video of it or something. I refuse to watch it again so I'm not going to do that work for you. After 45 minutes of watching I left for my roommate's reception. When I got back later that night my spider had finally made it out of his old skin. He wasn't a whole spider anymore though. He had lost two of his legs to his old skin and now was merely a 6-legged freak. I flushed him down the toilet regardless of his leg count...goodness knows if I can't learn to love an 8-legged freak I could never learn to love a 6-legged one.
That last thought was a joke. I will never love a spider no matter how many legs he has.
Part the Second
3 days later I took a bathroom break at work. Somehow the toilet paper got rolled in on itself so I had to wrap it back up to get it out. When the last square of paper finally rolled properly...a living, breathing spider came with it. Ready to eat my face off. They tend to do that you know. I was utterly exposed and in one of the most vulnerable positions ever. I may have squealed a little bit. Then I came to my senses and grabbed a wad of toilet paper and smashed him. Please don't hate me for killing a spider. I normally don't. I make other people do it. Anyway, he died, my near-death experience was averted, and I was able to get back to work with my face fully intact.

2 comments:

Alyssa said...

Hello, I would just like to remind you that I am, in fact, the one to kill all our downstairs spiders, and don't you dare complain. Oh and I'm quite proud about the work one. That is all, over and out.

Jellybean said...

I am going to google spider molting and likely faint. It is your fault.

YOUR FAULT.