I Have Arachnophob–GAHH GET IT OFF ME!

I’ve heard that the reason the insects, and spiders, are so numerous this year is because of the heat.  apparently insects and arachnids are cold-blooded, so on warm years they mate and successfully breed more.  Which is I say we need to end Global Warming; who cares about Polar Bears, eternal winter will ensure the end of my arch-nemesis: Spiders.

In case you aren’t aware, I’ve had a skirmish or two, with spiders before.  But my fiancée has kept me fairly passive in my dealings with them lately, mostly through guilting me into it.  I knocked a spider off my van’s mirror and stomped it recently, thwarting it from building a web, or as I like to call it a forward base of operations.  She berated for murdering a homeless creature just trying to build a shelter for itself.

So I’ve been sparing the lives of spiders for the past couple of months.  But that ended a few days ago…when I got bit by one of the bastards.  Our peace agreement has been nullified!  I was taking down the flag at sunset and the bastard was laying in ambush on the halyard.  It bit me right on the index finger of my right hand.  It wasn’t deadly poisonous, but I lost feeling in my hand for a few minutes and my finger swelled and was numb for about 6 or so hours (it bit the vein in my middle knuckle, so that probably exacerbated things).

This was after catching a ninja assassin spider trying to kill me in the van the other night.  My fiancée came up to my window and told me she had a present for me.  I rolled the window down and in popped a spider, hanging from a single silken thread.  He was a little dazed, but I remained calm and collected and glared at my fiancée as a visual cue to…save my pussy ass.  She used a candy bar, which was my present by the way, to catch the spider.  She smiled at me softly and commended my courage saying, “I’m proud of how you handled that.  You didn’t scream, you didn’t pull out your gun and try to shoot it or anything.”  At which point I sheepishly mewed, “But what you don’t realize is…I shit my pants.”  Filled with faith in my courage she immediately gasped and said, “Wholly shit did you really?”  “No…not really…but if it had landed on my arm, instead of just dangling there; I make no promises.”  She then let the spider go, shaking it from the candy bar, in the driveway.

So long story short…I threw the bitch in gear and I ran the little bastard over…then I ate the candy bar.

Needless to say, I have a mite bit of arachnophobia, if you aren’t aware.  Our newest video on the YouTube channel has a bit of commentary on that fact.

~RCS

Lick ’em?  C’mere you crusty bastard, I’ll suck your dick if it means I get to avoid those cars!

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