Have I ever mentioned my feelings on spiders?

[stoopbeck]

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod

*flails*

So I am about to go to bed, and about to turn off the light, when a ginormous spider shoots out of a sheet I have on the ground for the dog. I boldly grab a shoe and crush it. I am amused to note that right next to it is a wee tiny small spider. Not being one to suffer the little arachnids any more than the big ones, I smish it as well. Then I scrape up the quarter-sized giant arachnid carcass and go to throw it away. When I get back to my room, I'm about to turn out the light again when I look down at the floor, and notice that I seem to have spilled dark beads all over the sheet for the dog. Moving dark beads.

Baby spiders. The whole sheet [twin size, mind you] is teeming, teeeeming with miniature arachnids, all about the size of a seed bead. One spider I can handle. Two, sure. Thousands and thousands and thousands? Nope.

I must confess, I lost it just a bit. And by "just a bit" I mean "I ran and got Mom, wringing my hands and chanting "ohgodohgodohgod" over and over, and was generally useless in the ensuing battle." Normally I can handle bugs. But this... gah.

And I'm not sure if we got all of them in the ensuing bit of spider genocide. We found some more about ten minutes after we threw the sheet outside. So now, for the whole night, I get to imagine troupes of tiny spiders, pouring up the posts of my bed, teeming over my skin, eager for revenge for the loss of their tiny spider brethren.

Oh, god oh god. I'm going to be flailing all night.

Comments

[otakuoverlorde.livejournal.com]

Well.

I was going to bed...

[stoopbeck.livejournal.com]

*cries*

[featherfish.livejournal.com]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH




*is never going to sleep well AGAIN*

[stoopbeck.livejournal.com]

You and me both. I still feel like I've got baby spiderlets crawling on me... even though I know [please oh please oh please] that there are none left.

Well, so much for even entertaining the idea of ever sleeping again... :[

[espritdeterre.livejournal.com]

Aww, poor spiders. But I can't say I blame you. I found a tick on me in my sleeping bag while camping last weekend, and I freaked out. I knocked it off, onto a black sleeping bag lining...in the dark. Of course, I never found it, so I had to lay there trying to sleep while imagining that every little thing that touched me was a tick. Nevermind the fact that Joe had found one in my hair a bit earlier just before going to bed. Ugh. Ticks are teh nasteh.

[stoopbeck.livejournal.com]

BLEAGH.

Ticks are totally teh nasty. There is no redeeming value to a tick. I can see a reason for ants and spiders and wasps and other bugs that freak me out, but not ticks. Never ticks.

Poor spiders? POOR SPIDERS? Tell you what. I'll find an unhatched egg sack that will be especially reserved for your blankets or something.

I actually do feel a little bad about the spider carnage, but about a gazillion of them made it outside with the sheet, so... not total slaughter.

[espritdeterre.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the ticks are nasty. And I have so many mosquito bites that it looks like I have chicken pox. Ewww.

I think I heard a statistic recently that said you're never more than 8 feet away from a spider no matter where you go (excepting the Arctic, I'm sure). Who knows if it's true, but it probably is. Think on that as you sleep tonight.

[stoopbeck.livejournal.com]

I've also heard a statistic that everyone eats at least one spider a year... in their sleep. Think on that as you sleep. I definitely will. Bleagh.

[skroberts]

Now you know how I felt when my room was invaded by hormigas. *whimper*

[stoopbeck.livejournal.com]

*cries*

I'm still flailing. :[

[thelasttoknow03.livejournal.com]

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!

[stoopbeck.livejournal.com]

I KNOW!

It's like that scene from the Chamber of Secrets movie, when Aragog and the other ginormous spiders are all commingling in the woods, except oh so much worse. Gah.