The Spider-ick! Chronicles: The Incident While Peeing

I just did a search of my blog and I found no sign of my spider/peeing story of my youth. I mean, I tell that story to everyone, so natch I thought I would have certainly blogged about it already. But it seems I haven't, which actually works well because now is the perfect time for that story.

Now yes, I understand that I still need to finish up my New York saga. Rest assured, I'm not going to pull a Jim Hill and not finish it (possibly only Erico Suave and MacArthur know what I'm referencing). I am very much in the middle of it and unless I get pregnant and have to delay the blog in order to devote an entire year to my child, it will get published (does anyone know who I'm referencing here?).

So back to spiders; or as I like to call them: espidereses. There seems to be some sort of spider attraction to me when it comes to urination. Perhaps I'm a living pheromone spewing spout. Whatever the case, it simply cannot be denied that I have been attacked by espidereses exactly TWICE while in the process of expelling liquid waste. TWICE! That's enough for a pattern.

The first occurrence happened when I was a wee lad. I rushed to the baño and proceeded to whiz. A strange compellance made me look up at the ceiling as I did my business. My view was of a gigantic black spider webbing down directly over my head. At an agonizing crawling pace, it curled its two front or hind legs upward, unraveling a crystal strand of ballsack thread. Lower, lower, lower, aiming to join the fleas on my scalp.

Panic stricken, I clenched my pelvic floor muscles to try and end the yellow stream, but the fear only brought about more trickles. Like straight out of a suspense movie, my eyes darted from piss to spider to piss to spider. Hurry! Finish! Stop!

And finally, the pee stopped. I gave a little shake above the rim and ducked out of harm's way! I remember huddling in a corner, rocking back and forth, reliving the close call in my head.

When the blood returned to my face, I opened the door to see where it had landed and it was taking a leisurely swim in the bubbling hot springs. I flushed her away.

Which brings us to incident numba TWO! I had just gotten back from seeing The Simpsons Movie (great movie, by the way) and treating MacArthur to a belated birthday dinner. The first thing I did was rush to the bathroom and discharged my bladder supply. All was hunkydory until I reached the near end of my piss, and suddenly that strange feeling ran down my left leg. My eyes veered to the ground and witnessed a big black spider dart quick-as-a-Motrin right towards my left foot. I pulled my left leg away, but it simply went straight for my right foot. So after hopping from one foot to the other in a dance the Japanese call "Sook Panijena Hoojep", the spider made its way to the wall.

That's where I chopped and I kicked and I hi-ya! I cowardly stepped on several towels bunched on the floor and slid them over to smash the spider against the wall. The vermin looked pancaked and twisted on the tiled bathroom floor as a result, but soon snapped out of its deceptive deadman's pose and started wandering away. I smooshed it four more times with my foot and towel combination, but instead of vicious savage squashings, the attacks were more like fluffy marshmallows smothering a camp fire; about as deadly as a drunken sorority girl pillow fight. Needing another plan, I grabbed a bottle of hairspray (great movie, by the way) and doused the spider. It appeared dazed and drunk, slipping and wobbling for shelter. And for the final kill, I took handsoap and pumped it all over it until it drowned in anti-bacterial goopiness.

The deed was done. The ordeal had ended. And the world had returned to harmony.

A lesson is to be learned here: never trust a spider when you pee. There's something about those bladder fumes that make them go b-a-na-na-s.


Coming to the realization that I almost lost my leg today,

Ricky