Arachnid Gangs Traumatized My Youth
*** continued from previous post ***
"Where are we going to go?" Mom asked.
"Well, I thought we would head back the way we came in."
Mom's eyes widened. "If you're planning on going DOWN that hill, count me out. I'll ride it if I have no other choice but not for fun."
"Babe, let me assure you, I have no intention of riding back down that hill. We will turn around long before then. I thought we would ride down to where the meadow opened up. Just kind of take in the scenery. It was a little dark when we came through the other evening and I wouldn't mind getting a good gander at our surroundings."
"Yeah. A little dark AND a little scary."
"Well yes. Prolonged panic does tend to color your appreciation for beauty," I said.
Mom looked me dead in the eye. "Ya think?"
"I wouldn't know of course but I've heard rumors. I have nerves of steel myself. Solid as a rock."
"Yeah, a rock that screams like a little girl from time to time."
"My dear," I say to her, "that's not fear. That's the Tourettes." And here I gave a small 'squeak!' to hammer home my point.
"Does Tourettes make you scream and swoon when you see a spider?"
Gah! How dare she turn my own phobias against me?
"That's just prudent. It's a proven fact that arachnids are driven to utter terror by the sight of a middle-aged bald man yelling and hopping from one foot to the other as he cries for his wife. It's an aggression ritual. Much like the subtle interaction twixt men, I'm simply asserting my dominance."
She looked at me long and hard.
"If that's the story you tell yourself to get you through the day it's fine by me sweetie," she said, kissing my cheek.
Superman has kryptonite. The Green Lantern has the color yellow. Hannity has Combs. And I, although I'm loath to admit it, have a little thing for spiders. It's not my fault. I was traumatized by these eight-legged devils as a child. Rogue groups of spiders would regularly beat me up for my lunch money. Then, to add insult to injury, laugh at my outdated shoes. Spiders have no morals. No compassion whatsoever. Frickin' spiders.
Buy The Book At Amazon! $14.95
Kindle Version $ 2.99
Nook $4.99
*** the journey continues ***
"Where are we going to go?" Mom asked.
"Well, I thought we would head back the way we came in."
Mom's eyes widened. "If you're planning on going DOWN that hill, count me out. I'll ride it if I have no other choice but not for fun."
"Babe, let me assure you, I have no intention of riding back down that hill. We will turn around long before then. I thought we would ride down to where the meadow opened up. Just kind of take in the scenery. It was a little dark when we came through the other evening and I wouldn't mind getting a good gander at our surroundings."
"Yeah. A little dark AND a little scary."
"Well yes. Prolonged panic does tend to color your appreciation for beauty," I said.
Mom looked me dead in the eye. "Ya think?"
"I wouldn't know of course but I've heard rumors. I have nerves of steel myself. Solid as a rock."
"Yeah, a rock that screams like a little girl from time to time."
"My dear," I say to her, "that's not fear. That's the Tourettes." And here I gave a small 'squeak!' to hammer home my point.
"Does Tourettes make you scream and swoon when you see a spider?"
Gah! How dare she turn my own phobias against me?
"That's just prudent. It's a proven fact that arachnids are driven to utter terror by the sight of a middle-aged bald man yelling and hopping from one foot to the other as he cries for his wife. It's an aggression ritual. Much like the subtle interaction twixt men, I'm simply asserting my dominance."
She looked at me long and hard.
"If that's the story you tell yourself to get you through the day it's fine by me sweetie," she said, kissing my cheek.
Superman has kryptonite. The Green Lantern has the color yellow. Hannity has Combs. And I, although I'm loath to admit it, have a little thing for spiders. It's not my fault. I was traumatized by these eight-legged devils as a child. Rogue groups of spiders would regularly beat me up for my lunch money. Then, to add insult to injury, laugh at my outdated shoes. Spiders have no morals. No compassion whatsoever. Frickin' spiders.
Buy The Book At Amazon! $14.95
Kindle Version $ 2.99
Nook $4.99
*** the journey continues ***
Labels: green lantern, spiders, superman
posted by David M at
9:36 AM
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Keep it nice or I release the Zombies.
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