Australians are Badasses

A Facebook friend just posted this.   

I am no expert on languages/accents,  but this dude sounds Australian.  

Australia has always been somewhere that I have wanted to visit.  It intrigues me; yet it horrifies me at the same time.  

It horrifies me, because several years ago, I read "In a Sunburned Country" by Bill Bryson.  I would highly recommend it.  

(I would recommend Bill Bryson's books, in general, too.  He's awesome.) 

This book was entertaining, but it contained the single most disturbing passage I have ever read in a book.  

Like, ever. 

In my entire life.  

And here it is, for YOU.   Let it disturb you, too.  Let it mill around in your mind.  Think about it.  

And think about what bad asses Australians are.  

"It (Australia) has more things that will kill you than anywhere else.  Of the world's ten most poisonous snakes, all are Australian.  Five of its creatures - the funnel web spider, box jellyfish, blue-ringed octopus, paralysis tick and stonefish - are the most lethal of their type in the world.  This is a country where even the fluffiest of caterpillars can lay you out with a toxic nip, where seashells will not just sting you but actually GO for you.  

Pick up an innocuous cone shell from a Queensland beach, as innocent tourists are all too wont to do, and you will discover than the little fellow inside is not just astoundingly swift and testy but exceedingly venomous.  

If you are not stung or pronged to death in some unexpected manner, you may be fatally chomped by sharks or crocodiles, or carried helplessly out to sea by irresistible currents, or left to stagger to an unhappy death in the baking outback.  It's a tough place." 

Now, watch this father and daughter try to take care of this spider problem on the ceiling of their home.  All by themselves.  With a piece of Tupperware and a stool.  

Badasses.  

Death to All Arachnids, But Spiderman is Cool (& Bob&Larry)

The first one was perched on my garden tub not quite two weeks ago.  

They sneak up on you, that way.   Suddenly they are there...so creepy . 

"Oh, my gosh!  Frack,"  I yelled.  

The two year old skidded in to investigate, as she usually does.  

She hates spiders, bugs or anything that resembles the former.  Such as hair, or fuzzies.  

All of the above give her uncontrollable shudders and shivers. 

The spectacle in front of her was no different. 

 She shuddered and shivered and screamed "Ohhh, nooooooooo,"  over and over again, whilst I stood there, wrapped in a towel, trying to efficiently get ready for church so we wouldn't be late.  Again.  This damn spider had thrown a wrench into my morning.

I found a flip flop.  The larger ones seem to have brains, and when I went after it, it ran away from me and hid behind a vase.   

The creepy thing was that it was SO BIG, that I could here the "click, click" of its legs on the tub's porcelain finish. 

(Okay, the tub is plastic.  All of our tubs are plastic, bought in bulk, probably at Lowe's by the general contractor in those one piece el cheapo tub/shower combos.  I thought I would impress you with the porcelain comment, but my conscience got the best of me.)

I finally found my Aussie Freeze hairspray and sprayed it until it was barely able to move.  I used about a half a roll of toilet paper to pick it up, then flushed the vile thing down the toilet. 


 I made a mental note to tell Chris about this, because we had just had the bug guy come in to spray our house (inside and outside) for bugs, SPECIFICALLY SPIDERS, the previous week.  

Fast forward not even one week later.  Chris' mother was visiting from Minnesota.  She was upstairs but hustled her butt down to the first floor (as fast as she could so soon after a knee replacement) when I started screaming bloody murder.  


There was yet ANOTHER spider on the wall by the master bedroom.  I did not think it could be possible, but it was LARGER than the first spider.  She quickly took charge and sprayed Fantastik on it, knocked it down and beat it with a shoe screaming "DIE, DIE, DIE.".

The puppy hid from her in the powder room for a good hour.  

Several days later, I happened to turn on the light when I went to get a drink in the middle of the night.  You guessed it.  Another spider.  I got a Ball jar and placed it on top of it so Chris could take a gander.  

Although it was smaller than the others, he got the idea and called the pest control company, because among lots of other things, I don't do phone calls.

And...this morning, while going through the laundry from our bedroom, a fourth creature from HELL jumped out at me, then eluded me for quite a while.  


However, I was PERSISTENT and PISSED OFF and claimed VICTORY over the eight-legged FREAK.  Now, I have two spiders in the Ball jar.  

I have named them Bob and Larry.  And they hate each other.  They pretty much stay away from each other as much as they can, except every once in a while if one gets in the other's "territory" they get a little punchy.  A bit of a scuffle follows.

 I'm pretty sure they are just wolf spiders on steroids and they are fine outside, but I don't want them in my house, for the love of Margaret Thatcher.   

The bug guy is showing his face here tomorrow at 9 a.m.   I want no more spiders.  Death to them all.