Sunday regurgitation: Stuff it, Little Miss Muffet

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I’m going to leave you with a post I wrote last year after I met a spider in North Carolina who had cajones the size of grapes when he decided to go Little Miss Muffet all over me. And that is not a euphemism for pee.

Happy Sunday, everyone!

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I don’t think Dr. Seuss will be calling me anytime soon

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I swear, I don’t know what you North Carolinians are putting in your water, but you guys grow the funkiest spiders.

Excuse me while I shudder, throw up, pass out, twitch and become a wet noodle.

And so, because I have absolutely nothing of interest to blog about today, I’ve written an ode in honor of one of your creepy, crawly, eight legged ickies that tried to murder me one bright, sunny day.

I think you can sing it … kinda, sorta … to the tune of The Itsy Bitsy Spider.

It’s either that, or Learn to Fly by the Foo Fighters. I had my iTunes blasting and got confused.

I’d go with Itsy Bitsy Spider and keep an open mind.

A big, wide, open mind.

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The huge, honkin’ spider hung down from the tree,

And scared the living crap out of one Ms. Andy.

She froze and she stared and she tried not to hurl,

And she watched in utter horror as it began to unfurl.

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She began to hyperventilate and tried not to heave,

Then she remembered her DSLR camera hanging by her sleeve.

She slowly raised it up while she tried not to vomit,

‘Cuz the camera was worth some coin but not if she blew chunks on it.

The spider moved and twirled and it scared her to death,

And she started to twitch and jerk like she was strung out on meth.

Then she yanked on some big girl panties and aimed for the shot,

But without a macro lens, this was the best that she got.

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She circled around the spider and kept clicking away,

Worrying that in a minute, she would become his afternoon prey.

She kept getting closer, struggling to focus,

On the fat, shiny epitome of the ultimate grossness.

The spider was bulging, orange and black and weird,

But it didn’t glom onto her face as she had greatly feared.

She knew without the macro lens that she should up and quit,

But then she accidentally touched it and screamed OH SHIT!

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The spider bared its fangs and lunged for her throat,

And Andy almost peed herself as it skimmed by her coat.

She shrieked OH MY GOD as she bolted far away,

‘Cuz if the spider wound up eating her, it would totally ruin her day.

When she returned to the house, she relayed the entire story,

Of how she almost bought it in a manner so bloody and gory.

But they didn’t really care as they were busy discussing lunch,

So she had no other choice but to yell WELL, THANKS A WHOLE BUNCH.

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YOU KNOW I ALMOST DIED, she hollered and waved her arms all around,

But it was impossible to hear her over the TV’s surround sound.

NO ONE CARES ABOUT ME, she cried and stomped off in a hissy.

Because being totally ignored tends to make Andy all pissy.

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But all was forgotten over lunch and some desserts,

Because chocolate is the cure for anything that hurts.

Now Andy stays clear of anything hanging off of trees

That could possibly suck out her blood and drop her to her knees.

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She’s staying clear of spiders, no matter where’s she’s at,

Unless she’s armed with mace and a big, huge metal bat.

Because Andy and Mother Nature will never get along,

And yes, THANK GOD, you’ve reached the end of this song.

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The end.

I’m sorry.

Here’s some Tylenol. Go lay down and when you wake up, it will be like it never happened.

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