I hate bugs. A lot. Big, small, doesn't matter. I'm highly suspicious of them all, up to and including the illustrious lady bug. So you would think that the fact that there is a spider in my bathroom would be cause for distress. Surprisingly I haven't killed it or called in the heavy artillery (aka Mike, the bug guy, with his Can Of Death). I just sit there and watch this little guy build his teeny tiny web. And then I wait with him, joining in the pondering of where the hell the other bugs are. He doesn't know that I've employed a man to spray toxic fumes into every nook and cranny of this house. So he picked a little corner close to the ground, maybe thinking he'd rack up some ants or something. But he got bupkis. He walks around, inspecting his web with care. And every now and again he'll sprint up to the corner and stay really still. Maybe he's crazy and keeps thinking that he hears bug footsteps or something. It has me wondering how long he can go w...
Like sex, but with a B.