I suffer from arachnophobia-lite. I can pre-emptively hear you scratching your head in uncertainty so let explain the condition to you: If I am in the presence of ladies, well then I will man up and man up hard, and remove any menacing looking spider that might impeding on our gathering. Yet, If I am alone, I scream like a little girl, prance into a corner and whimper until the offending creature gets embarrassed by my effeminate cries and leaves, or someone maternal comes and rescues me. This fear has never been founded on anything other than the movie Arachnophobia. I had never been bitten by anything venomous, until a few weeks ago when I was helping my father here in Hermanus with the removal of a hedge. Then I got bitten three times on my ankles. Two were rather innocuous, but the one bite left a mean scar. You know what? I may have deserved that. I was demolishing their home with a veracity that would be comparable to Guernica. But last night's attack was just plain spiteful.
Have I offended some eight-legged spirit and thus become fodder for its scurrying acolytes? Did I go out on a bender and drunk-dial the Navajo twins Nayenezgani and Thobadztistshin; who in retaliation got their buddy the Spider-Woman to set her goons upon me (Google it). I mean, I climbed into bed last night after clawing through Hunter S. Thompson's The Rum Diaries in a single sitting, then felt a prick on my shin. But I was tired; so rubbed my foot against the offending area and thought nothing further of it. I wake up this morning with a headache, no appetite, and this unshakable feeling that if I sit still for too long a panic attack may just tackle me to the floor. That's the fourth bite in a month. Was it just waiting for me under the covers, rubbing its little arachnoid legs and snickering to itself? Come on guys, I pay my bi-monthly tribute to the dark elves and their goddess (it's an Elder Scrolls joke). It's not like I owe any witch-doctors money.
What did you say, cute hippie chick with dreadlocks, loose fitting tie-dye pants, an array of crystals hanging from your neck and toe rings glistening on your bare feet -- you say it's the universe telling me to carry on with my journey, that my time hear has come to its end and I must venture forth and find more adventures? Why thank you, and no I don't think I will need the Tarot reading, but I appreciate the offer. I tell you what -- during your next reflexology session with the universe, would you kindly pass on some information to me that it might have overlooked; being busy with all those pesky galaxies, super novas, black holes and that darn dark matter that keeps hiding from everyone. Just so you know, it takes a while to fix a bent steering-column. Sure they should have picked it up and fixed it the first time the car was taken in, but these things happen. So until it is completely safe for me to carry on, I shall not. I think I have risked my neck enough as it is, without putting it closer to the chopping black than it needs to be.
Oh well. Don't fret, aside from being a marked man by invertebrates, and the car coughing up the odd issue, I do have some more interesting things to share with you all.That will have to wait for tomorrow though. I am not feeling to well today.
Here look at my injuries, I know they are not that impressive but it hurts.
Have I offended some eight-legged spirit and thus become fodder for its scurrying acolytes? Did I go out on a bender and drunk-dial the Navajo twins Nayenezgani and Thobadztistshin; who in retaliation got their buddy the Spider-Woman to set her goons upon me (Google it). I mean, I climbed into bed last night after clawing through Hunter S. Thompson's The Rum Diaries in a single sitting, then felt a prick on my shin. But I was tired; so rubbed my foot against the offending area and thought nothing further of it. I wake up this morning with a headache, no appetite, and this unshakable feeling that if I sit still for too long a panic attack may just tackle me to the floor. That's the fourth bite in a month. Was it just waiting for me under the covers, rubbing its little arachnoid legs and snickering to itself? Come on guys, I pay my bi-monthly tribute to the dark elves and their goddess (it's an Elder Scrolls joke). It's not like I owe any witch-doctors money.
What did you say, cute hippie chick with dreadlocks, loose fitting tie-dye pants, an array of crystals hanging from your neck and toe rings glistening on your bare feet -- you say it's the universe telling me to carry on with my journey, that my time hear has come to its end and I must venture forth and find more adventures? Why thank you, and no I don't think I will need the Tarot reading, but I appreciate the offer. I tell you what -- during your next reflexology session with the universe, would you kindly pass on some information to me that it might have overlooked; being busy with all those pesky galaxies, super novas, black holes and that darn dark matter that keeps hiding from everyone. Just so you know, it takes a while to fix a bent steering-column. Sure they should have picked it up and fixed it the first time the car was taken in, but these things happen. So until it is completely safe for me to carry on, I shall not. I think I have risked my neck enough as it is, without putting it closer to the chopping black than it needs to be.
Oh well. Don't fret, aside from being a marked man by invertebrates, and the car coughing up the odd issue, I do have some more interesting things to share with you all.That will have to wait for tomorrow though. I am not feeling to well today.
Here look at my injuries, I know they are not that impressive but it hurts.
Howdy! Were you somehow able to complete all the settings of this blog all by yourself or you got professional help?
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