When I was younger, I was never one to be afraid of insects. I was the kid who would aways play with the house spiders. My brother once ate a cockroach, which made me disgusting by association.

 

But as I have matured (and I use the term lightly), my fear for all things with mor than four legs has frown. Examples of this include the time my stepsister and I found a stick insect on the inside of my room's front door. We decided to conquer this skinny foe by coaxing it onto my year 9 English book (which I knew I had kept for a reason). Alas, whenever our weapon got within a 10cm radius of our target, it would twitch a lanky leg, sending us teenage girls screaming to the other side of the room. Eventually, brothers were recruited, and the enemy swiftly removed.

 

Yet another creepy crawly related incident was "The Cockroach Who Ran". I was sitting on my lounge one night when I deemed it time for sleep. I started walking over to my bed when HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS there is a cockroach on my ground. Thankfully, my trusty year 9 English book was again handy so I followed the garden escapee and feebly tried to crush its little cockroach brains. Finally, after chasing it for a good two minutes (and two minutes is a long time to chase a cockroach), I cornered it next to the cupboard and proceeded to bludgeon it to death, then covered all evidence by leaving the book on top of its not-yet-rotting-carcass, where it stayed for approximately a month.

 

But none of these terrifying experiences could prepare me for..

 

 

 So our story begins last night when I made my way downstairs to my room to find my pyjamas. Now, for those of you who don't know my house, my room has no internal access and the only way to get there is to go through my stepfather's workshop. So as I made my way through said workshop, I was greeted by THE BIGGEST SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN perched next to my door. I mean this was THE MOTHER OF ALL SPIDERS. This was no run of the mill Huntsman. From my extensive spider knowledge I'd say we were dealing with some kind of gigantic funnel web. I screamed and ran in the door, using my virtually unused front doorway to get back upstairs. I called my brother and told him to go get spider mofo out of the vicinity by means of a large stick. However when he returned the news was grim; spider mofo had retreated to the gap between the beer fridge & the wall.

 

Eventually I had to go downstairs. I tried to take precautions: I shut the door to my hallway the whole way (rare event), as well as my back bedroom door. Unfortunately my beloved door snake was guarding my front door, and if I removed it I knew I faced the chance of dealing with stick insect mofo AND spider mofo. So I tried to put it out of my mind as I lay in bed - played solitaire on my iPod, watched Disney Channel (instant cure for insomnia). Eventually I turned off the tv and tried to sleep. I thought I was making good progress with my drowziness after sleeping with me head on the pillow, in between the pillows, under the pillows and completely off the pillows. Then suddenly: nature called. I cursed my selfish past self for drinking water before bed and not thinking of the consequences for my future self. And for not taking crazy spider mofos into consideration. After a good 5 minutes of deliberation, I decided to brave it. I stood at the bottom of the stairs and surveyed the surrounding areas. No big black spider ass in sight. I made a dash for the bathroom, where so many of my bad spider experiences had played out (staring at a big brown huntsman making himself at home on the shower curtain). Thankfully I made it back to base without any spider mofo sighting.

 

In bed however I noticed the gaps underneath my doors - just big enough for spider mofo's big black ass to fit under. I grappled with the reality that when I was sleeping, he could sneak under my door and into my ear. He would then proceed to eat out my brain matter, and use me as a human droid to summon his spider mofo army. Eventually I would be abandoned and rendered useless, save for my attending of the weekly "Spiders Ate My Brains Out Anonymous" meeting (SAMBOA). I could not let this happen as I knew any day niw Captain Planet would call upon my marvellous brain to take the baddies down to zero, and I didn't want spider mofo to ruin my chances of obtaining a tacky ring. So I decided to block off brain access by plugging in my iPod and began  listening to the fitting "I See Spiders When I Close My Eyes" by the wonderful Boy Least Likely To. Followed by the appropriately inappropriate "I'm Glad I Hitched My Apple Wagon To Your Star".

 

The next morning I saw my 8 legged for in his evil lair behind the refrigerator. Beneath the shadows I saw his evil glare and my spidey sense picked up on him saying that tonight would be round two.

 

I had to prepare.