Azn Badger's Blog

What About the Lysine Contingency…?

Azn Badger vs. The Giant Spider

You know who that fighter pilot on the right used to be before I shopped him? Clint Eastwood, the original spider killer.

Last night the Azn Badger had an epic life or death struggle with a giant fucking spider.

Clearly, yours truly was the victor, as I was able to type this whole up, but I tell yah’, things got pretty hairy there for awhile.

Let it be known, the Azn Badger has an intense hatred for, and fear of spiders.

Anyway, here’s how it went down:

So it was around 1 AM, and I was lounging around watchin’ Dante’s Peak on Encore.

I was just about to pass out around that time, but I told myself I was gonna’ stay up long enough to see the part where Pierce Brosnan tells Linda Hamilton:

"It's okay, it's got a snorkel."

I love that scene.  Puts a smile on my face every time.

*Cough!* ANYWAY, right after that, I turned off the TV and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Everything went smoothly, I mean I splashed my shirt an’ all, and I almost dropped my cup, and I bumped my knee on the counter…

Okay maybe it didn’t go all that smoothly, but the point is, I got my water and was about to head off to bed when out of nowhere my literal spider-sense went off, and I spied a massive shadow hiding under the vacuum closet door!

I tell yah’, I about shit myself right then and there.

This fucker was massive, really you don’t even know.

Seriously, he was the really savage kind of big, the kind of big where you can clearly make out all of their individual body parts.

He was a muddy dark brown, with menacing pair of mandibles hanging down from his ugly fuckin’ head.

I guess mandibles are like the sports cars of the Animal Kingdom. COMPENSATION.

While his body wasn’t ‘roided out like a tarantula or some shit, in fact he was kind of scrawny in his midsection, he had a thick-ass set of legs that absolutely screamed:

“This fucker can move.”

Legs an’ all, he was a little big bigger than my palm, finger webbing included.

Kinda' hard to see, but it's true, it's true...

What?

The Azn Badger has webbed fingers.

Big fuckin’ deal.

At least I’m not ugly like you.

ANYWAY, being the cerebral and cool-headed individual that I am, I caught myself, clenching my fists, hiking up my shoulders and saying to myself, aloud:

“That’s a big spider.”

You remember that one scene at the beginning of Die Hard where the dude on the plane tells Bruce Willis to make fists with his toes to calm his fear of flying?

Well, being as I was standing there in the kitchen, paralyzed with fear, my mind didn’t consciously shift to “What would John McClane do?” mode, but for whatever reason I found myself curling my toes to hide them from the advance of the, very likely; lightning quick 8-legged death machine standing before me.

My fears proved to be unfounded though, as Spider-Douche hadn’t so much as twitched in the half-minute or so that I had been staring at him.

I fuckin’ hate that about spiders.

They’re quick as fuck, and supposedly some of the most efficient predators alive, but when it comes to dealing with us people, (and badgers) they’re just plain retarded.

Seriously, you chase them into a corner, and instead of, you know; climbing the wall like a smart person, for whatever reason they charge straight at you like they’re the fuckin’ Juggernaut or some shit.

I don’t know, maybe they know we’re afraid of them or something.

Maybe they’re counting on us to recoil in terror and let them pass.

Maybe they aren’t aware that Kleenex and tissues were invented long ago, specifically to allow us the means to meet them in single combat.

Speaking of tissue, that’s exactly where my mind went after about a solid minute of pacing back and forth muttering to myself:

THAT’S a big spider.  That’s a BIG spider…”

Finding no tissue within reach, I decided to bust out the big guns and grab a handful of paper towels, about 4 of them to be exact.

There was no way I was gonna’ let that fucker get one of his hairy brown legs on me, post-mortem or otherwise.

With spider kryptonite in hand, I set out to do battle with the vile beast of 8-legged death.

Then it hit me.

“Remember Badger, this fucker can move.  Ain’t no way you’re gonna’ get inside on him by charging straight in.  You need a plan.”

THIS is what happens when you don't have a plan.

With that, my mind dug through it’s recesses in search of tools or strategies I could play to my advantage over this monster.

REACH,” I thought.

With only 2 steps to go before certain doom, I bid a hasty retreat, praying to God that the beast hadn’t caught on to my gambit.

With my eyes glued to the still immobile God of death, I Scooby-Doo walked back over to the sink and grabbed hold of a dish rag.

A bead of sweat formed on brow, as doubt began to settle in.

“What if I miss?  I’m not a very good shot…”

The 8-legged beast from beyond twitched in response, no doubt sensing the incoming attack.

All thoughts and reservations left my mind as my instincts took over, and with a great “HWAH!” I side-armed the divine dish rag straight into the beast’s grotesquely mandibled face, pinning him to the corner in the process.

Like following up a lead jab with a right hand, I followed the rag in for the kill.

No sooner had the rag hit it’s mark, I was on top of that spider fuck like white on rice.

Doing a modified baseball slide on the kitchen laminate, I splayed out on my side and rammed a right cross into the rag for each and every one of the great beasts 8 legs of death.

After taking a deep breath, I slowly righted myself and extricated the rag from the corner.

The deed had been done, the beast vanquished and sent back to the hell it crawled out from.

No song, nor fanfare would arise from my great victory that evening, but it felt good to know that my parent’s and I could rest without fear of the 8-legged terror mauling us in our sleep

As I marched off the battlefield, and to a very well earned rest, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Yoda’s words from Star Wars Episode I:

"Always two there are. No more, no less."

Deep in my mind, I knew this to be true among the spider clan as well.

Only time will tell if the spider I defeated that evening was the apprentice, or the master…

So, what did we learn today kids?

Let’s review:

The Azn Badger is afraid of spiders.

He’s clumsy.

He has webbed fingers.

His mind jumps to movie references to get him through crisis situations.

And he can’t throw worth shit.

So, you still sure you wanna’ keep reading this blog?

That’s what I thought.

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