Come into my parlor...

I used to be a peaceful person. I used to try and embody the idea of "all God's creatures got a place in the choir" and "do unto others..." etc. by being kind to all living things, even ants and slugs. Then one day all that changed.


My parents moved to the edge of the wilderness, or at least the edge of a gully that leads to wilderness somewhere. While this means some really sweet vistas, it also means that a doggy door might be a stupid idea (oh hello Mr. Coyote!), and that we get tons more bugs. At first, I was inclined to reluctantly welcome the one or two spiders I started finding. I mean, yes they were disgustingly, fear-inducingly HUGE,
Think this but bigger. And maybe less whiny.


but they showed up around the same time that like a zillion flies moved in. I figured that all spiders do is be incredibly creepy, whereas flies poop in my food and laugh while they do it; and since spiders kill the flies they're an improvement right? Oh how wrong I was. SO WRONG!

It turns out that there weren’t one or two spiders, and they weren’t the plain old wolf spiders I knew from my childhood home of KY. These were in fact dozens of hobo spiders (note: not the satchel carrying, rail riding type of hobo my sister Rachel pictures), and here are some little facts – or at least soundly believed ideas – about hobo spiders:

• They came into my house, not to build a tiny campfire and cook tins of beans, but to do the nasty. Yes, it’s mating season, and nothing puts them in the mood more than hiding out in cozy basements and terrorizing innocent girls who climb on chairs screaming, while uncaring brothers laugh raucously from the upstairs.
  




• All hardware stores and aisles that contain insecticides stock up on sticky traps, because hobo spiders can hold their breath, thus rendering normal spray useless against their super powers. Also, I totally got stuck in a sticky trap and it took me like five minutes to get free. Those are no laughing matter!
  




• They are extremely aggressive and will chase people rather than run away. And yes, logic would point out that humans are a thousand times bigger, but click here at your own risk (these are really gross) to see the possible results of a hobo spider bite. Also, they have eight legs. EIGHT LEGS!! We've all seen Arachnaphobia. I'm not sure which of these two is scarier.

Upon learning all of these facts (or widely held beliefs that I’m not prepared to question) we decided that flies or no, the spiders had to go. We first attempted just to suck them up with the vacuum hose, but while the thunking sounds they made were really satisfying, there were too many of them. So we figured that despite being able to hold their breath (how creepy is that? It implies intelligence high enough to recognize aerosol spray cans!) no spider could withstand a few dozen bug bombs set off all over the house. Take that, suckas!

So, let this be a warning to humans that the hobos are coming, and a warning to spiders: stay out of my house, biotches. We’re afraid to get near enough to squish you, but not afraid to fog your many legged butts.