duck, duck, goose...

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The amount of f-bombs that have been flying through my brain the past few days, week maybe, has been utterly absurd, borderline appalling and so absolutely out of character it's often times comical. Which, I suppose, is why I feel compelled to write about it, knowing some might think I'm off my rocker. Or really angry. Or just weird. Hmmm... yes. All three, please. I share anyway.

I've noticed no one is immune to this critical, internal barrage. Well... maybe my mother. A strange look in my direction, "what the f---?" I yell at them, to myself, while smiling and nodding hello. A lovey-dovey couple holding hands in the grocery store, "f--- you". Cut off in traffic, "are you f------ kidding me?" Seriously, "what the f---?"

And tonight, while I'm prepping this post I hear a light drop on the seat behind me - what the... then, "F---!" (hard to tell, but all caps... definitely all caps). A big f------ spider just dropped from the ceiling to my couch. And now he sees me watching him and takes off quicker than a 100m sprint Olympian in all sorts of spastic directions. I grab my patent black flats and beat the living daylights out of it, flattening it paper thin to ensure no rebirths. Spiders do that you know - dead one minute, crawling, seemingly unscathed, the next.

And, while I continue typing this obnoxious, asinine post, a small movement to the right catches my eye, "you have got to be f------ kidding me." Another one. "It is f------ on." The other ballet flat is retrieved and utilized. This spider is faster and more nimble, but cannot escape my wrath. "F--- you, f------ spider." Smithereens is all that's left of it as well.

I urgently search  Google images, quite certain both were brown recluse spiders. Too bad I smashed them so confidently and ferociously their identifying marks are no longer such.

F--- you, spider.

F---. You.

I need therapy.


4 comments:

Laura Zaps said...

#1--ew, gross spiders. Glad you beat the crap out of them
#2--you're funny
#3--I've been saying "Jiminy Christmas" about 6 times a day anytime something surprises me. I've never really said that before, not sure where it comes from. I guess it's better than an F-bomb.

Rae said...

you'll be unhappy to know that...
- very shortly after blogging this, two more spiders of the same species were found

and happy to know that...
- they were quickly smooshed
- my science-teacher-landlord is having them analyzed at school (seriously, there was not much left but we scraped what we could into a baggie) to find out actual species, instead of letting me speculate

and best of all...
- after blogging about this, the f-word has ceased to fly about my brain; it's as though writing about it helped it escape. ha.

Rae said...

update: i was upstairs, taking a shower, as i often do around 3pm. it's a nice break in the day... light is filtering through the windows. light tunes float through the unclosed door. steam envelopes everything in it's path. it's, ah, lovely. whatev.

i thought i heard the door open downstairs, which is a little freaky when it's the middle of the day and no one is supposed to be home yet. i figured it was a roommate and didn't think twice.

finished up my makeup and side pony, and headed back to the office. lo' and behold... a brown recluse & indoor spider trap - pk 5 was laying on my desk.

survey says - they were brown recluse spiders! the biology teacher analysis says so.

Laura Zaps said...

ewww gross, brown recluse! I can't even type it without cringing. Good news though! If you get bit, we have pretty much the world's leading expert at Mercy (well, he's actually retired, but I bet I could still get ahold of him, and he trained the people there now) on brown recluse envenomation.