Thursday, September 15, 2005

THE LESTER DOCTRINE

The Good Right Reverend Stacius Myron Lester on his philosophy of arachnid deterrence:
I don't recall ever being bitten by a spider...until I moved in with Frito a great while later. I mind finding a bump on my inner arm, just a bit above my elbow. It didn't hurt but it itched a bit...way milder than a mosquito bite. I looked closer...there were two holes there.

EW!!

Another time I found a spider bite on my ear.

And then I got bit on my face.

ON MY FRIGGIN FACE!!

I changed my policy on the bastards sometime after that. Do unto others, I say -- and I got done unto first. I still don't smash them, but they get sent down the toilet!

We had a shit-ton of the little (heh) buggers around the house this spring and summer. You had to be careful when going out the back door because there would be a huge web with some big bastard sitting innit like (s)he owned the joint.

The last time that happened, I got out my empty pellet gun and pumped it up 6-7 times, pointed it at the wide-o, and fired. The spider flew across the yard, landing I know not where. But it didn't come back! So, I'd found my new favorite method of getting rid of them.

I haven't been bitten this year...go figure.

Like the good reverend, I find myself at once attracted and repelled by spiders. They're pretty cool, the way they spin webs and hang out there, waiting for dinner to be delivered. But the way they kind of creep along, especially the big ones, as if to say "Yes, you can run, oh yes! you can run (in fact, why don't you run?), but I'm just going to go at my own pace and sooner or later I will find you, and our eyes will meet just before I sink my enormous fangs into your soft, milky flesh..." Well, I'm just not down with that.

As for my own policy on spiders, I have a size test for pre-emptive action. Spiders up to the size of a quarter are ignored. Bigger spiders are strongly encouraged to emigrate outdoors, sometimes being detained briefly in a wine glass and then deported. Spiders nearing the size of my closed fist are introduced to my tennis racket as I scream "Where are the others?! WHERE ARE THE OTHERS???!!!"

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