Why Did The Fly Fly?

A: Because the spider spied her.

One of the most annoying things about winter here in Melbourne is the amount of creepy crawlies that come into your room looking for a little warmth.

Now don't get me wrong. If you're a moth (and maybe a reincarnation of my deceased father) then you can stay as long as you want. If you're a little ladybird looking for a little warm nook from the harsh winters, feel free to share my room.

On the other hand, if you are:












Then get the **** out of my house!

Oh man, I hate spiders. I don't mind the small house ones that you see in Malaysia, and I have even played with some trapdoor spiders in their natural habitat in Fraser's Hill (they are really cool - Google them!).

But when a large spider enters my bedroom, asking if he can be my roommate, that's where the friendship ends.

My previous housemate Li had the exact same spider in his bedroom last year, and I was laughing at him, telling him to man up and deal with it. He eventually reluctantly used the vacuum cleaner to suck up the spider.

This time, I was just minding my own business, surfing Youtube, (er, I mean, studying hard, Mum) when I looked up at my window blinds, and here was this big ass spider.

This spider was huge. With fangs. Seriously. If Spiderman was bitten by this spider at the start of the show, he be dead, you know what I mean?

I did what every man in my situation would have done - I screamed like a little girl. 

When I finally woke up from my faint, I first checked to make sure that the spider wasn't on me. My mind then started to try and figure out how to get this spider out of my room. 

A few options popped up in my mind: 

1) Kill the damned thing.

I looked at the gray brown spider and imagined the kind of splat he'd make against my white walls and decided against it. 

Also, if I didn't do a good job of it, who knows if it'll scuttle off into some dark corner to plot its revenge. 

2) Leave it in peace. 

I mean - it's doing me no harm, just sitting there, enjoying the warmth, and the view. 

And waiting for me to fall asleep so that it could spin me into a sticky cocoon and then eat me slowly!

3) Catch it.

I go downstairs and grab a leftover Chinese New Year cookie plastic container. I hold the plastic container against the wall and spider, willing the stupid thing to move into the plastic container.

The spider didn't climb into the plastic container. I was trying to calculate how long it would be before the oxygen (do spiders breathe oxygen?) would run out in its plastic prison, before my arms gave way from tiredness thirty seconds later.  

So I finally decided on option

4) Reach for the vacuum cleaner. 

Fact of the day: Spiders don't get sucked in easily. At least this one didn't. This mean eight-legged freak must have super glue for legs 'cause it didn't budge a single inch when the nozzle of the Vacuum Cleaner of Death approached him. Instead, it just crawled lazily away, and gave me the spider's equivalent of the middle finger.

********************************************

Having failed Option 4, I ended up deciding on Option 5 - do absolutely nothing. I was going to wait this little bugger out, and we'll see who'll crack first. 

Two minutes later, I am screaming at the spider for no apparent reason. 

I opened a window and tried to flick the stupid thing out of my window. Instead of flicking right and out like the motion of my magazine-wielding hand, it flicked towards me instead, and I had to jump back, waking the neighbours once more with my delightful Girl-Scout-being-stabbed scream.

The spider almost landed onto my study table before it shot a web up to the wall behind it, and clambered quickly back to where it was before. This time it scuttered up to the corner of the ceiling and tried to force its way through the cracks, unsuccessfully. 

My heart was racing as quickly as his, and I had to sit down and regroup, to think of where to from here. 

I was deep in sketches of my ingenious Spider Removal Machine (tm) and when I next looked up, it was here:

Above my freaking bed. Waiting for me to sleep. Just to fang me very much for trying to kill him.

It soon scuttled above my bookcase, and I had decided enough was enough. 

I took the plastic container again and held it up against ceiling. I tried knocking on the ceiling to make the spider fall off, but damn its sticky super glue legs. 

I finally had a brainwave, and I reached for a piece of paper, and I slid it between a tiny gap in the plastic container, and then underneath the spider, flicking it off the paper into the container. 

Victory is mine! Almost. 

Now came the crucial part - closing the lid.

Quickly. Before Spidey here has a chance to jump out when my other hand reaches to put the lid on, and then scuttle up my arm to bite me on my nose. 

One swift move later, and I had a spider hanging off my nose. 

No - I caught him. I caught him good. 

 Aww... so cute... not. 

The spider's eight legs tapped sickeningly against its plastic chamber as it ran around, trying to break free. I held the container gingerly in my hand, wondering if its fangs could penetrate plastic. 

I was trying to decide whether or not to introduce him to the wonders of my toilet bowl, but decided instead on doing the right thing - saving it for later to show Karen. 

No.... I set it free in the lawn outside my place, where it would be free once more to roam its natural habitat, and be eaten by birds.

Which goes to show you who's boss in the animal kingdom... I mean it's not like that stupid spider is smart enough to make it all the way back from the front garden into the room, and then climb up my shoulder slowly to dig its fangs into my neck to paraluyh7[6;gwgf/

Oh, Crap.

Just doing a little studying of the anatomy of our body, and just marvelling at how amazing a body we have.

Our body deals with 9 litres of fluids in a day, of which only 2 litres are from our daily intake.

That means you have seven litres of fluid being produced from everywhere else inside you, from your saliva down to your intestines.

Which makes me surprised how quiet we actually are for fluid producing beings. Imagine if you could hear every slosh of your tummy as it secreted acid juices or your liver churning as you produced bile, or maybe a whirring noise as your small intestines digested and absorbed your food.

Instead, we only hear the growling of the tummy once in a while and let out the occasional fart or burp for all that goes on inside of us.

Isn't creation Intelligent?

P.S. Just found out that it takes food four hours to go into our big intestines, and only 70% will be passed out within three days. It takes it a week to pass out 100% of all that you've eaten.

So just think about what you had for dinner last week as you meditate on your Toilet Throne, because it might finally be coming out completely now.