Dear Spider Living in the WC,
I know you're not on the computer reading my blog because you're currently terrorizing me from the ceiling of the bathroom, but when you log on later while we're asleep, let this serve as your 24 hours' notice to get the hell out.
Do not go back to the water closet where at any moment you could drop down onto my head whilst I'm relieving myself, causing me to jump up mid-stream and run hysterically through the house batting at my hair.
Do not take a side trip into the bedroom where you might think about crawling all over my face on your way toward the window.
Just crawl your spindly, creepy, gross ass down where you will either be clumsily battered by one of six cat paws or stomped on by a boot; or make your way quietly back out the window from whence you crawled your nasty, icky, spidery ass in.
If I see you in there tomorrow morning, the broom comes out and this won't end well for you. You've been warned.
Good day, Spider Sir.
Update! As of this morning, he's GONE! (Or she, she full of spindly, creepy, icky spider babies... omg, where IS she???)
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