Having eight legs. I have to believe that you only use three or four of them for getting around, and the rest are for the sole purpose of tormenting the things/people you crawl on. Like tickling, but more sinister.
Having hair ON your eight legs. I’m not saying you need to shave them, spiders, you do what you want with your body hair. But I learned in elementary school that your leg hairs are for sensing movement or something, and I HATE that. If I’m going to fight you, I want it to be a fair fight. MY leg hairs can’t smell YOU, so yours should stop this creepy business STAT.
Jumping. Because moving around with eight legs isn’t creepy enough, sometimes you move around with NO LEGS AT ALL.
However many eyes you have, it’s too many.
You are spineless little terrorists who hide in cracks and crevices and corners of ceilings. If you’re going to haunt my house, at least have the decency to scuttle across flat surfaces so I can smash you.
When I try to smash you, I have to decide between which book to use and it’s always a moral dilemma because I don’t want your oozy guts all over my nice books.
Same goes for shoes.
Apparently there are 38,000 types of you, and that is TOO THOUSAND MANY
Your webs always get on my face when my mouth is open. You plan that, and I’m on to you.
You are in the same family as scorpions, ticks, mites, and harvestmen. I don’t even know what harvestmen ARE, but I don’t trust them.
One of you is named the Goliath Birdeater.
Somebody estimates that there are one million spiders in every one acre of land (except Antarctica, the lucky frozen bastards). Which means that we nice humans are never more than ten feet away from a spider. Ever.
Somebody also says that spiders can’t crawl out of bathtubs because the walls are too slippery, but that is FALSE. Not only do you climb out of bathtubs, you climb out of FREAKING DRAINS WHILE THE WATER IS RUNNING. You are wicked and your devotion to terrorizing the life of the average American is upsetting to say the least.
Some of you THROW NETS.
I am reading an article that describes your movement as “running.” Somehow that image is more terrifying than anything.
You are called a spiderling just after you hatch, which admittedly sounds kind of cute. But I will still smash you if you come anywhere near me or anything that I love. Especially because when you are a spiderling you are also surrounded by about 3,000 of your other spiderling friends and that is TOO MANY SPIDERLINGS.
A tarantula can liquefy the body of a mouse in two days. Two days. LIQUEFY, GUYS. Even supervillains don’t do that! What WHY?!
Apparently it’s a myth that humans swallow any number of spiders while they sleep. But what’s NOT a myth is that Katie Melua, a British celebrity, went to a doctor in 2014 because she heard a “shuffling” in her ear AND THERE WAS A JUMPING SPIDER LIVING INSIDE HER HEAD. NO NO NO NO.
You thrive off of the knowledge that parents out there are telling their children not to worry; that you’re more scared of us than we are of you; that you aren’t here to hurt us; that you’re actually our friends because you eat other bugs. But I’m on to you, you hairylegged bastards. I will never stop distrusting you, and I will NEVER stop smashing you.
Except mostly I’ll be getting my husband or some other well-meaning brave human to smash you. But don’t get smug about it. If you and I are alone and only one of us can make it out alive, it’s gonna be me, partner. Say your prayers now.