Arachnophobia?

I've been neglecting the old blog of late, leaving it to fend for itself. Been working on another writing project that has captured my imagination and locked it in a holding cell where dark hooded torturers are doing their best to squeeze it dry. I'm thinking they're either CIA, FBI, NSA or WKRP in Cincinatti, but it's more likely my own subconscious trying to pin a thought down long enough to get it on paper. No matter, I've escaped, for the moment at least, though I'm sure the guilt police will drive me back to Word and coerce me into finishing the other thing shortly. In the meantime, here's the blog:

(There's a long pause here while I search my brain, my mind and my pockets for something, anything really, to blog about. My pockets have turned up some lint and on a good day that would be enough, but as exciting a topic as lint is, ours for instance, is always blue, I think I'll leave that for another day.)

(Another long pause ensues while I gaze out the window in search of a muse, any muse, pick a muse, don't tell me what it is, just put it back in my brain and shuffle. Is this it? No? Damn!)

Two nights ago we had a small spider invasion. Let me rephrase that. Two nights ago we had a small invasion of spiders. The spiders, themselves, were in no way small. Before hopping into bed...flopping into bed is more accurate, I had fly swattered three of the totally ink black arachnids, apologizing to each one as I took its life because, after all, what argument have I got beyond self defense for snuffing the poor critters. Each one I flattened had a body about the size of a dime and extremely long legs. They were also very fast but, alas for them, not fast enough. Woowoo Charly and I find it mildly insomnia producing to leave visible spiders climbing the walls as we settle into bed and turn out the lights, which, I suppose, is my second argument for bug murder, so I cleared the room with my nine millimeter, hand held, semi automatic, made in Hong Kong, red plastic swatter before turning in. All went well after that until some time in the dead of the night, at least I think it was the dead of the night although I'm not actually certain which part of the night is dead, when Charly, returning from the bathroom said, "be careful when you go in there, because the mother of all spiders is lurking about." Or something like that.
It's not an exact quote,but close enough to use the " " marks. Later, when the night was rising from the dead like a zombie, I did have occasion to visit the bathroom and sure enough there was a spider of super spider dimensions scurrying about. I ran for my weapon, but on returning to the john - another word I have no understanding of. Why isn't it the fred? -the spider was gone. "Did you kill it? my wife asked as I returned to the bed. "No" I said. "It was carrying a sign that said, you are safe, we're after the woman" just because I'm a funny funny guy. Woowoo Charly didn't think so. And the spider remains both large and at large...if at large means on the loose and not something further about size, which it sounds like.