Fear This, Spider!

Ok, so here's the deal. I never, ever wanted to have that look on my face again. You know, the face you make right before you shit yourself. Now I can't promise it won't happen, but I confronted a major fear last night and you all will be so proud of me.

I killed the biggest friggin' spider you have ever seen. Swear. To. God. This thing was bigger than Rhode Island. I know what it was doing here, too. It came to try and kick my ass because of that spidery post I did a while back, and because I may have made fun of Mr. Blognut the other day. But I crossed out what I wrote about Mr. Blognut, so it shouldn't even really count. Should it? I vote NO. I mean, here in Blogland, you can say whatever you want so long as you cross it out or put a smiley face after it, right?

Anyway... the spider. You want to know how I killed the spider that ate Rhode Island. Right?

Here's what happened. I was sitting here, RIGHT HERE, at my computer reading blogs. It was a dark and rainy night, and I could hear the distant sirens signaling impending doom. Suddenly a chill ran down my spine and I caught movement out of the corner of my beady, little eye. Oh wait. I don't have a beady, little eye. The spider did. The spider totally had about 9 beady, little eyes. Anyway, there he was, moving down my wall at a full gallop. Who did he think he was kidding? He was running so fast that I could see the fur on his legs blowing in his own gallop-created breeze.

I screamed, "Moses on a Motorbike!" and sprang into action. I looked left, I looked right, I hollered for Mr. Blognut to no avail, and I realized that I was trapped here, RIGHT HERE, behind my desk until morning if I didn't do something. In my adrenalin-induced surge of brilliance, I grabbed a magazine and flicked the spider from the wall to the floor in front of my desk in one swift movement. He sat there staring at me with his nine beady, little eyes and then angry puffs of smoke came out of his nostrils while at least two of his feet starting pawing at the ground as though he were about to charge right at me.

I clenched my puckering butt cheeks and I leapt right to the top of my desk. I pelted that enormous spider from on high, with first one magazine, and then another. He bobbed, he weaved, and THEN I got him. I dropped the biggest magazine I could find right onto his back. He proceeded to drag the magazine four or five feet before finally succumbing to his inevitable death and Blognut reigns victorious over her fear of spiders, and over the spider that ate Rhode Island.

Now I just need someone to come wipe this up for me.