An Open Letter To Spiders.

Existing in a basement bedroom has it's downfalls.

Spiders.
Are one such fall of down.
Having a window thats bascially in a garden also doesn't help to deter the many different sizes of 8 legged satans that coming barreling across my floor.

I've always been able to take comfort in the fact that with lightning quick reflexes and 17 folds of paper towel...I could defeat you without harm.

But tonite
you successfully changed things.
You've harmed me.
To the extreme you creepy bitches.


It's not a rare occurance for me to be drawing at my desk and look up to see a teensy cute piece of fuck run across my wall.
It happens 3-5 times a week.
And I can deal with that....
to a degree.

I understand that you're a part of basement dwelling.
You come with the territory.
You unfortunately exist in MY territory....
and when that happens
I grab an entire roll of paper towel
and make you eat soft cottony crevice.
And to make sure my point is understood for all your friends who are trying to sneak attack me from wherEVER the fuck you come from...
i flush your terrifying multiappendage corpse in my porcelain funeral home.

With THAT said Spiders...
I ALSO have the understanding that when I'm in YOUR territory, I'm not to touch you.
If I'm in the woods and walk into your goddamm invisible terror nets...
I make sure you're not in any danger...
before i shake and scream and gag at the thought that you're on my face.

If I'm out in the barn and see one of you inches from landing on my shoulder...
I gently move out of the way
and run the fuck in the house and shower.

I've even avoided bringing my exponentially larger than you shoe down onto your brains while walking down the street.

What I'm getting at here Spiders....
Is that I don't play games with our 'arrangements'
I don't fuck with you unless absolutley necessary.
I'm not outdoors setting up fake Justin's to make you think "oh fuck is he gonna step on me?".
There's just no mind games comin from me.
Things are pretty straight forward:

If you're in MY space
you eat it.
If I'm in yours
i flail and scream then piss off and not touch you.

But Spiders...
You frighten me so often....and to such a degree....that tonite....
I was harmed.
Because of your mind games.
Your little spider mind fuck games
just made me slap myself in the face.

One of you infultrated my less than impenatrable fortress with a bed last night....
and he got away.
HE.
GOT.
THE FUCK.
AWAY.
so this, with obvious reason, has been on my mind since it happened.
I went for him
and he fuckin shot across my floor like he was goddamm jet powered.

which scared the hell out of me.

I searched for that combustion fueled minion of hell for a good 20 minutes.
Searched and came up fruitless.
but i still knew.
I KNEW he was out there.
every fibre of my existance knew he was out there waiting to strike.

So tonite
as i'm watching a television show and pleasantly eating pizza...
I just HAPPEN to look to my left
and in my perifs...
I SEE HIM
i saw his blurry fur in my periferals.
WHICH MEANS
he was SOOOOOOOOOOOMMMME fuckin on my face.
like...
in my goddamm eye close.
Which, by the way, is also a short distance from my ear...
and I wasn't letting you call my pierced audible tunnels home where you can raise thousands of babies and let them call my brain their elementary school playground.

NOW
my initial reaction as a 23 year old young adult is OF COURSE
to freak the fuck out.
So young spider of the 7th circle of hell...
With all my efforts and energy at 2:30 am...
I haul off
and slap myself.
I slapped myself like there were 14 of you on me and i wanted to make you all one giant soup of gorey insect victory.
I smacked myself so hard
you should be implanted in my facial tissues.
I beat you so passionatley into my face it made acne think twice.
I fucked me up so hard that a pimp called me for lessons.

I completely rearranged my genetic facial structure because you, spider, were on my face.

To top all this off Spider...
I'm an anxiety riddled mess...
So one bone shattering slap certainly will not do.
After 3 more and a nice red hand mark later...
I decide to calm the fuck down
and take a look at my trophy.

Magine my surprise when I look in the mirror and see only red marks.

no spider remains.

did I slap you so hard you evaporated into a breathable dust?
did I pummel you into disintegration?
did I beat you into last week?

No spider.
No I did not.
Because you didn't even exist.

You're missing solider of satan has had me so subconsciously on edge...
that I thought.
a piece of my hair.
was a spider.
and I beat myself to pieces as a result.

I kicked my ass because I thought you were on me.

I've not once made you kick the shit out of you because YOU thought I was gonna step on you.
And that says worlds to me.
That says "Justin....these spiders are getting to you"
and that Spiders..
is unacceptable.

But the worst part about all this is...

YOUR DICKHEAD FRIEND IS STILL HIDING SOMEWHERE IN MY ROOM.

So all in one night Spiders, you've take a 2 point lead against me.
You made me kick my own ass
AND
You still have a spy in my room.

But when I find him
He's fucked.
Because now...




i feel like an idiot.






You've been warned.

love justin.