In Ireland we are never sure of the sun come summer, but the one thing we can count on is the arrival of spiders, shriek. It’s bad enough writing horror, without having these monsters to contend with. During the warmer months its like living in the house of Dracula, as I have to do spider patrol every night, to make sure there’s nothing hiding in the corners of the bedrooms. Because that’s what they do, the ugly, hairy, humpbacked b*****ds. They sneak in during the day and crouch down in the corners and wait until you turn off the light and then its party time. I killed one the other night and I swear it was filled with ink. That’s another ceiling that needs repainting. I don’t want to hear anything from your bleeding hearts about them being God’s creatures and how you should trap them and take them outside. Get a grip, if you do this they just tell their friends how spider-friendly you are and even more turn up. If Noah was still around today, he’d be getting a punch in the face. I’ll leave you with two little rhymes for those of you, like me, hate spiders.
Little spider on the wall.
Have you got no friends at all?
Have you got no mum or dad?
Squishy squashy, that’s too bad.
Little spider on the wall.
You shouldn’t be there at all.
That wall had just been plastered.
Get off the wall, you dirty little…….spider.
gemmamawdsley 