False Widow Spiders Want To Kill Me!

False Widow Spiders Want To Kill Me!

It’s been a while since you had anything spidery from me, so let’s address it.

Over the last few years, whilst our newspapers were filled with horror stories about Deadly False Widow spiders invading the UK, I’ve been spotting them all over my house.

When mowing my lawn, I had a very suspicious bite on my arm, that looked very spidery, and itched for months, with the spread of the poison being visible over about half of my arm.

I’d seen a few small False Widows around the place, and figured they’re a bit runty compared to the House Spiders tromping around the place, so wasn’t too worried.  Yeah, they’re poisonous, but I didn’t die, and the press greatly exaggerate this kind of panic-inducing stuff.

Around 6 months ago I discovered a filthy great False Widow living in my garage.

 

I call him Nelson Mandela.

What the pictures don’t show, is that he is HUGE for one of these spiders!  They’re not actually supposed to grow this big – but Nelson Mandela wouldn’t fit on a £2 coin in his normal squat.

This sucker must have a Hell of a bite!

I don’t know if it was Nelson Mandela that bit me before, but he must be a good few years old, and has happily claimed that half of my garage.

And look how close he is to the light switch!

You don’t want to poke him in the eye whilst fumbling around in the dark for the switch!

There was also Maggie Thatcher, who lived in our kitchen for a while.  She was less than a 10th the size of Nelson Mandela, but you could still clearly see the markings.  Sadly, she seems to have been obliterated by my fiancee, who “will not have a Tory living in our house!”

After telling how I’d seen several others in our porch, I was warned that I should probably kill them, as finding one in my bike kit might not be a great experience… I was kind-of hoping they’d eat some of the -ing people who keep leaving charity clothes selection bags in there!

So, there I was this morning, backing my bike out the garage (kept well away from Nelson Mandela), when I caught a movement out the corner of my eye.

I moved my head to look, but the movement was still in the corner of my eye.  Hanging off the side of my open visor!

“NNnghh!!” I said bravely, throwing an inside right hook, just like I learned from watching “The Fighter”.  Mark Wahlberg hadn’t been balancing a motorbike at any point of that film, however, so never had to deal with 200kg of Kawasaki falling sideways on top of him.

The swinging False Widow – let’s call this one ‘Pol Pot’ – calmly held on as his path described a nice short arc in the morning air, swinging back in at eyeball level, fangs glinting in the sun.

I quickly flipped my visor down, severing any chances Pol Pot had of clambering up to fang my iris.

And all the while Nelson Mandela was sat in the far corner of the garage, bouncing in his web from what must have been a gust of wind, but may have been from his spidery chuckling.

I sense the war of terror has begun…

***EDIT***

After writing this blog on my lunch break, I got home and discovered another large False Widow sat in my porch.  This one is called ‘Rasputin’, and must be catching some serious sun as he’s very dark-skinned.  Pray for me, people!

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Letter Of Complaint To A Spider

Letter Of Complaint To A Spider

Dear House Spiders

Going through my morning ritual today, ready to head off to work, I went to brush my teeth.

Now, because I’m aware of all the airborne ‘stuff’ that coats everything in range of a toilet, I keep my toothbrush in a plastic bag for cleanliness.

What I do not expect is to find some dirty little git of a spider to be sat INSIDE of that plastic bag!

Yes, this morning, one of you hairy-legged mongs was actually using my toothbrush!

Go ahead!  Make yourself at -ing home, there!!!

I’m sure spider dating has to move with the times just like human dating does, but if you’re going to shine up the old fangs I’m sure there’s something more spider-friendly than something I have to put in my mouth several times a day!

I’m fully aware that ‘statistics’ show we eat a few of you every year in our sleep, and I’d challenge you to explain exactly WHY you feel the need to squeeze your pudgy abdomen between our sleeping lips in the first place?  Perhaps, after this morning, that question is answered as you were on reconnaissance missions to explore the values of brushing your teeth?

So, leave my -ing toothbrush well alone in the future, stop drinking Coca Cola, and try flossing your own bloody fangs with your own disgusting 1970s leg hair!

There will be an act of retaliation for this.
Yours, outraged and horrified,
Nasty Evil Ninja

Spiders! They’re Coming To Get You!

Spiders! They’re Coming To Get You!

https://i1.wp.com/www.kendalluk.com/SPIDER13.gif

It’s that time of year when we’re suddenly under siege from spiders.

They’ve been hiding away growing -ing massive, and now they all decide they want to come and sit in your -ing living room, putting all their little feet up on your face whilst they watch the latest season of Big Brother.

Horrible little hairy-legged wank-faced twats!

If you walk around the streets in the evening, you’ll hear the piercing screech of women who’ve just discovered some house spider crawling over their Ugg boots.

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The men, choking back a scream themselves and leaving a small trail of wee like a fleeing rabbit, have to pretend they’re not bothered by spiders.

I have a pair of tonfa sticks that I use for the dual purpose of tomping unwanted burglars AND spiders.  The size of some of the buggers (spiders – not burglars) lately has meant I’ve had to take two swings just to break their backs!

One knew a bit of spider kung fu, and blocked and then rolled, escaping under the bed where you just KNOW that bastard will wait until you fall asleep and then smother your face with its big plump abdomen as it licks at the moisture off your eyeballs.

They say we eat 6 spiders a year in our sleep, on average.  Just what the frikkin’ FRICK are they doing climbing into your mouth in the first place?!  It’s not a -ing spa, you little boss-eyed shits!

And how are they move so fast?!  They never used to be this quick!  Have they discovered Red Bull, or something??

And that’s just inside your house.

Take a stroll up your garden path, and what do you see?

https://i2.wp.com/www.mooseyscountrygarden.com/garden-paths/laundry-path-stone-lavender-ferns.jpg

Nothing!

Because they -ing wait until it’s dark or the sun is in your eyes, and then, THEN they build webs Tarzan couldn’t have got out of.

And they hang there.  Huge fat squidgy body like a beer-bellied bully.

https://i0.wp.com/www.articlesweb.org/blog/wp-content/gallery/a-look-at-garden-spiders/a-look-at-garden-spiders-14.jpg

Waiting for you to come flailing through their webs waving your hands around like a schizophrenic drunk, and then they drop into the hood of your coat and wait until you’re 10 miles down the M42 at 90mph before they crawl inside your -ing ear!!!

I sprayed a filthy great house spider with 90% pure Isopropyl Alcohol last night.

What did he do?

He slowly turned around and staggered back into his little den behind the mantelpiece.

30 minutes later I heard a crash and saw he’d thrown out an empty can of Special Brew.

I’ve created an alcoholic tramp of a spider who’s probably breeding little chavvy spider kids behind my mantelpiece.

I’m either going to get the git on Jeremy Kyle, or when he comes out to walk his Pitbulls and have a spliff I’ll tonfa his ass.

And so the yearly battle begins…

https://nastyevilninja.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/ac1bc-ninja2bspider.png

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Have spiders got some sort of collective vendetta against just me at the moment – or is it everyone?

There aren’t all that many in the rest of the house, but every time I look up in my bedroom, Mini-Spider Hit Squad is moving into position surrounding me!

OK, they’re hardly going to eat me in my sleep, but I can’t say I’m too excited at the prospect of eating THEM in MY sleep, either!

So 6 had to die yesterday, and 4 the day before that.  And this morning another bugger was there!

But I suspect these are just the advance party.

Bigger beasties are lurking in the doorways…

I came home last week to find a medium-sized spiddy sat in the middle of his web – naked, no less!!!  AND it was blocking off the entire front door to my home!

What the fuck did he think he was up to???

Luckily, I hadn’t taken my bike gloves off at the time, so a swift right cross let him know his name wasn’t down, and he wasn’t coming in.

I think after 3 days of that, he either ended up in Spider Infirmary, or my cunning change to a back-handed knuckle strike felled the arsehole arachnid.

But lo and behold, a Morning Spiddy appeared for attack, covering the door so when I stepped out to ready my bike, I’d be covered in web like in one of those old Tarzan movies!

Luckily the spider never managed to sink his fangs into me, as I always escaped before it had chance but this morning was close!

Spiky hair is a bastard for collecting webs, too!

Then, as I rode my bike up the driveway towards the road, elated to be escaping my home without being mummified and having my juices sucked from me (and not in the good way that women can do), they had one last-ditch attempt!

Right at the top of the driveway, to my horror I spotted another Tarzan-catcher web, cunningly using an overhanging Holly Tree to cover my escape route.

And Harry The Hairy Spider was home!

I tried moving as far to my right as I could, but the left mirror sliced through the bottom support strand of the web as I rode my bike past.

This caused the whole Spider-Web combo to swing around in a huge arc, disappearing from my field of view around the side of my helmet.  Last known trajectory: the left side of the escaping biker.

Staring straight ahead lest I see hairy legs clinging to my visor, I opened the throttle and kept it open, ignoring the crawling/biting feelings on my poor exposed neck and from within my leathers.

If I’m lucky, the wee fucker is roadkill somewhere between my house and my workplace.

If I’m unlucky, he’ll be waiting for me back at home with a New Improved Web possibly promoted by Barry Scott of Cilit Bang fame.

If I’m REALLY unlucky, he’s to my side right now, hiding in the pile of leathers, waiting to jump on me when I next touch them, so that I scream like a girl and all the women in the office laugh at me

I -ing hate spiders!

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Have spiders got some sort of collective vendetta against just me at the moment – or is it everyone?

There aren’t all that many in the rest of the house, but every time I look up in my bedroom, Mini-Spider Hit Squad is moving into position surrounding me!

OK, they’re hardly going to eat me in my sleep, but I can’t say I’m too excited at the prospect of eating THEM in MY sleep, either!

So 6 had to die yesterday, and 4 the day before that.  And this morning another bugger was there!

But I suspect these are just the advance party.

Bigger beasties are lurking in the doorways…

I came home last week to find a medium-sized spiddy sat in the middle of his web – naked, no less!!!  AND it was blocking off the entire front door to my home!

What the fuck did he think he was up to???

Luckily, I hadn’t taken my bike gloves off at the time, so a swift right cross let him know his name wasn’t down, and he wasn’t coming in.

I think after 3 days of that, he either ended up in Spider Infirmary, or my cunning change to a back-handed knuckle strike felled the arsehole arachnid.

But lo and behold, a Morning Spiddy appeared for attack, covering the door so when I stepped out to ready my bike, I’d be covered in web like in one of those old Tarzan movies!

Luckily the spider never managed to sink his fangs into me, as I always escaped before it had chance but this morning was close!

Spiky hair is a bastard for collecting webs, too!

Then, as I rode my bike up the driveway towards the road, elated to be escaping my home without being mummified and having my juices sucked from me (and not in the good way that women can do), they had one last-ditch attempt!

Right at the top of the driveway, to my horror I spotted another Tarzan-catcher web, cunningly using an overhanging Holly Tree to cover my escape route.

And Harry The Hairy Spider was home!

I tried moving as far to my right as I could, but the left mirror sliced through the bottom support strand of the web as I rode past.

This caused the whole Spider-Web combo to swing around in a huge arc, disappearing from my field of view around the side of my helmet.  Last known trajectory: the left side of the escaping biker.

Staring straight ahead lest I see hairy legs clinging to my visor, I opened the throttle and kept it open, ignoring the crawling/biting feelings on my poor exposed neck and from within my leathers.

If I’m lucky, the wee fucker is roadkill somewhere between my house and my workplace.

If I’m unlucky, he’ll be waiting for me back at home with a New Improved Web possibly promoted by Barry Scott of Cilit Bang fame.

If I’m REALLY unlucky, he’s to my left right now, hiding in the pile of leathers, waiting to jump on me when I next touch them, so that I scream like a girl and all the women in the office laugh at me

I -ing hate spiders!

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Have spiders got some sort of collective vendetta against just me at the moment – or is it everyone?

There aren’t all that many in the rest of the house, but every time I look up in my bedroom, Mini-Spider Hit Squad is moving into position surrounding me!

OK, they’re hardly going to eat me in my sleep, but I can’t say I’m too excited at the prospect of eating THEM in MY sleep, either!

So 6 had to die yesterday, and 4 the day before that.  And this morning another bugger was there!

But I suspect these are just the advance party.

Bigger beasties are lurking in the doorways…

I came home last week to find a medium-sized spiddy sat in the middle of his web – naked, no less!!!  AND it was blocking off the entire front door to my home!

What the fuck did he think he was up to???

Luckily, I hadn’t taken my bike gloves off at the time, so a swift right cross let him know his name wasn’t down, and he wasn’t coming in.

I think after 3 days of that, he either ended up in Spider Infirmary, or my cunning change to a back-handed knuckle strike felled the arsehole arachnid.

But lo and behold, a Morning Spiddy appeared for attack, covering the door so when I stepped out to ready my bike, I’d be covered in web like in one of those old Tarzan movies!

Luckily the spider never managed to sink his fangs into me, as I always escaped before it had chance but this morning was close!

Spiky hair is a bastard for collecting webs, too!

Then, as I rode my bike up the driveway towards the road, elated to be escaping my home without being mummified and having my juices sucked from me (and not in the good way that women can do), they had one last-ditch attempt!

Right at the top of the driveway, to my horror I spotted another Tarzan-catcher web, cunningly using an overhanging Holly Tree to cover my escape route.

And Harry The Hairy Spider was home!

I tried moving as far to my right as I could, but the left mirror sliced through the bottom support strand of the web as I rode past.

This caused the whole Spider-Web combo to swing around in a huge arc, disappearing from my field of view around the side of my helmet.  Last known trajectory: the left side of the escaping biker.

Staring straight ahead lest I see hairy legs clinging to my visor, I opened the throttle and kept it open, ignoring the crawling/biting feelings on my poor exposed neck and from within my leathers.

If I’m lucky, the wee fucker is roadkill somewhere between my house and my workplace.

If I’m unlucky, he’ll be waiting for me back at home with a New Improved Web possibly promoted by Barry Scott of Cilit Bang fame.

If I’m REALLY unlucky, he’s to my left right now, hiding in the pile of leathers, waiting to jump on me when I next touch them, so that I scream like a girl and all the women in the office laugh at me

I -ing hate spiders!