The Spider in the Dish Rack
And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, Come and see.
And I looked to my dish rack and behold a pale cup: and the spider's name that sat on it was Gary, and hell followed with him.
One of the secrets to the incredible productivity and success enjoyed by Gary, the spider that lived in Latigo Flint's dish rack, is that every evening he took the time to write down a detailed list of things he wished to accomplish tomorrow--and at the same time reviewed that day's list, crossing off the things he accomplished and moving to tomorrow's anything he didn't manage to get to.
Now it's true each list typically consisted of just two items:
#1. Be hideous.
#2. Scuttle around on things.
But even if it didn't change, Gary wouldn't ever get lazy and reuse the list. No, Gary knew how important it is to take the time to acknowledge the accomplishment of daily goals, while renewing focus and energy for tomorrow.
It's quite admirable really. One can't help but admire Gary's self-motivation and drive.
I'll tell you something though--Gary really should have added a third item to today's list:
#3. Be sure to avoid that Zippo-fed blast of deadly aerosol flame.
*******************************
I faintly recall loving a cute Starbucks barista with a passion so savage that when the wave finally broke and I staggered away, dull-eyed and eternally numb, it may have actually been the kindest of a thousand possible outcomes.
Now I admit this has very little to do with searing highly motivated spiders beneath Zippo-fed blasts of deadly aerosol flame--but then really, what does?
And I looked to my dish rack and behold a pale cup: and the spider's name that sat on it was Gary, and hell followed with him.
posted by Latigo Flint @ 11:42 PM
10 comments
10 Comments:
Funny, the oversized cockroach-looking bug that I spent 2 days killing a few months ago seemed to have much the same career goals....
You don't suppose they have a union rep do you?
Let me tell you a TRUE story about spiders. I once saw the silohette of a spider on the outside of my shower curtain! Running late for work, I punched the beast and resolved to hunt and kill him later, after my shower.
When I left the shower, I saw no sign of him. Long story short -- again, this is true -- the little bastard sought refuge in my underwear! Had I been less careful, he would have bitten me on my pecker!
Damn, this would have made a good blog post.
Gary's cousin here in Oz is named Bruce, I have no idea where he got the name but it is Bruce!
Ripped by a barista. The flame that came out of nowhere.
I am afraid of spiders, so I'm living vicariously through this post. Inside of me, as I read, there's a banshee screaming, "YEEAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! BURN THAT SPIDER'S HAIRY LITTLE ASS OFF WITH THAT ZIPPO-FED BLAST OF DEADLY AEROSOL FLAME!!!" See, in spite of the banshee, these hands only have the courage to cover themselves with a wadded up half of a double-roll of toilet paper, approach spiders like Gary, aim for a good four minutes, and, heart racing but will focused, pounce for the squish. Usually I miss and am forced to jerk around in chase of the scuttly little demons. If I lose one to a crack in the wall, I can't sleep for a week.
Don't tell anyone.
I have a thing about spiders - I never harm them. Someone once told me that spiders are our friends - a hippie I think, and in his highly enlightened state (neatly matching mine) he made perfect sense ... So to this day, my wife's howlings to the contrary notwithstanding, spiders flourish in our home
I just KNEW you were going to give the Starbucks girl another chance.
I've always wondered, Mr. Flint- Does inflicting excessive violence on the arachnid kingdom really help (however temporary) in the case of unrequited love, or are we only fooling ourselves?
The spider in your dish rack and the spider in my shower stall should go bowling. That would get them close enough together that a combined effort of Aqua Net and Zippo should quite undo them.
Cockroaches and spiders actually accomplish things in this world sweet Wulf--I think it's quite obvious they've managed to steer clear of union representation to this point.
Tough luck LBB. I shudder for you, sincerely. But your story is mine now. And I'm replacing "underwear" with "alpaca hide chaps" and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.
We don't question the names spiders take Peter--we just tremble and try to coat them in liquid flame.
Pognient Anonymous Shannon. They say a chamelion can't ever change its spots. (Or no, wait--)
Indeed Anonymous, indeed.
Your secret is safe with me dear MJ... it will travel no further than my one billion daily readers, this I swear.
Believe it or not Berlin, I am actually loath to slaughter spiders as well. (But mostly because I fear retribution.)
And it hurt no less this time around Old Hoss.
Oh, I think you know the answer to that Solace Layfield. (Personally, I fell a long time ago. I've yet to stand again.)
You've quite undone me Amandarama, and I don't even bowl.
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