Three Freaky Things: A.K.A. If a Crab Mated with a Spider, it would look like this...

Good Monday. This blog post will be short, because F.O.B. (friend of the blog) "H" said my post on Friday was too freakin' long, and she didn't even bother reading it because of the length. I'd insert something terribly clever here, in an effort to show "H" how every word on my blog has a place, but I am striving for brevity.

So, on with the blog. (I'm thinking that was the longest introduction ever to the actual post. Sorry.)

In the Spirit of Halloween:

The Top Three Things that Scared the Boogers out of me This Weekend. (Never fear, Sam was on booger-cleanup, so we didn't have to burn down the house).

*Warning: The third thing has a crazy-arse picture of the eight-legged variety, so if my last spider post made you vomit your own heart, don't look. Consider yourself warned.

1. Saw Paranormal Activity.

Proof that a movie doesn't need a big budget to be freaky. Also proof that the scariest monsters are the ones you don't see... dun dun dunnnn. Also proof that ouija boards are never a good idea. Also, if something is haunting you, don't antagonize it. Oh yeah, one more thing. Always keep baby powder on hand at home, just in case... wait. I don't want to spoil it for you.

Anyone else see it? If so, let me know what you thought.

2. Did I ever mention I have an itty-bitty fear of plants? Not flowers, or grass, or that sort of stuff. No, I'm scared of anything that a. grows freakishly fast. b. wraps itself around another plant c. clings to stuff.

Like Japanese Junk Trees that sprout over 7 feet high in under a week? I scream like a little girl. Don't even get me started on mushrooms that pop up overnight.

So, you can imagine the fear in my heart when I walked into the playroom downstairs and found this...The outside vine had found a way in! The window was closed, and locked, but the little bugger came through the wall. Did you hear that? Came through the wall. Just looking for a cankle to wrap its tentacles around.

3. Okay, this is my favorite. Some neighborhood girls found a spider in our apple tree. It's back was huge, and its web looked like balls of cotton. Hubby and Neighbor R captured the thing in a jar, but not before it posed for this stellar pic. Prepare yourselves...

*Added: Yes, this is the actual spider we found. Neighbor "R" took the picture.

Is that the creepiest crawly you've ever seen? At first we thought it was a baby spider sac on its back. But after some trusty Google work, we discovered it's a Crab Spider. Have you ever seen anything like it? I haven't.

So, how was all y'all's weekend? Anything fun? Anything Halloweenie?

Free Book Friday Winners, and a Close Encounter with a Hobo

FBF Winner:

Infant Bibliophile

Email me your top three choices at brosam (at) gmail (dot) com. Thanks again to everyone who entered. We ended up massacring a bunch of cliches!

Actual Blog Post

I went to sis-in-law E’s house for dinner, and there was one extra guest.

A rooster. I asked E about it, and she said her daughter (Niece E) had been asked to a dance with the rooster.

She opened her door, and on the porch, under a box, where three roosters. Two of them have since flown away.

Apparently, the note read, “Don’t be a chicken, and go with me to the dance.”

I don’t want to be the one to actually tell the boy that the bird was, in fact, a rooster.

Anyway, so the boy leaves the birds at my sis-in-law’s house. Can you believe that? He probably found them on Craigslist or something:

3 FREE CHICKENS (OR ROOSTERS). TAKE THEM. PLEASE. JUST TO SILENCE THE VOICES IN MY HEAD.

So I’m making my way to the backyard to say hi to the Rooster, when my other sis-in-law says, “Brodi, come check out this spider. I think it’s a Hobo.”

My feet freeze. I literally can’t move. I say, “I’m coming,” but I’m really just standing there.

You see, my fear of spiders is not wholly unfounded. When Sam and I were first married, I was up one morning, around 3 am, playing Halo. (I have since found a more productive outlet to insomnia, but back then, it was Castlevania and Halo.)

So, I’m up playing Halo, and out of the side of my vision, I see a thinnish brown rope, sliding along the carpet near the door.

I know what you’re thinking… Alien tentacles.

N-T. Tentacles.

But it’s not an alien tentacle. It’s even worse. It’s a long line of Hobo spiders, making their way from a hole in the carpet near the door, across the living room to the kitchen. Never ending. Did you ever see that scene in Arachnophobia, where the spiders pour out of the sink drain? It was like that.

Only they were in a straight line. Probably autistic.

I didn’t have any spider repellent at the time, so I grabbed the closest aerosol can I could find.

Hairspray.

Because spiders are made of hair.

To make a long story short (too late) I froze that line of Hobo’s right in their tracks. Then I lit a match at one end.

Totally kidding about the match. But I did drown them in hairspray.

Turns out there was a giant nest of Hobo’s just outside our basement apartment’s door.

So, back to sis-in-law M. She grabbed a glass jar and captured the Hobo. We all examined the spider, and I said, “Yep. It’s a Hobo. You can tell by the Chevron markings on its back.”

And then my bro-in-law D came outside, and examined the spider, and said, “Yep. It’s Hobo. You can tell by the Chevron markings on its back.”

Apparently, we read the same tutorial on “How to Identify the Hobo, and then Run for your Frakkin’ Life.”

Bro-in-law D looked at me, and then I fessed up. I have no idea what Chevron markings are.

Meanwhile, the Hobo twisted and turned, as if to illustrate where exactly the Chevron markings could be found on his body. Okay, he was really just suffocating to death.

So, in my lifetime, I have killed Hobo spiders with hairspray and with lack of oxygen. If I had my druthers (what the heck are druthers, anyway?) I would choose death by hairspray. (The spider’s death, not mine.) Next time, though, I might try the match thing. Make it a blowtorch event.

So, back to the chickens. (Bet you didn’t think this story could come full circle, did you? Goes to show it’s not only good stories that come full circle.)

I think Niece E’s plan is to answer the boy with a whole raw chicken, and say something like, “The other two were delicious. Thank you.”

Personally, I think she should answer him with a bill from the vet for rooster euthanasia.

Anyone have good spider stories? Or chicken stories?

*Disclaimer*
No chickens or roosters were harmed in the making of this blog. One hobo was harmed. And it wasn’t pretty.