(Warning: This post describes acts of graphic violence against spiders. Reader discretion is advised.)

A long time ago, Danny once gave me a rap name. It was Spyda-Killa. That's what I do. I kill spiders. It seems like I've been playing Arachnophobia the last couple days. They sneak into the house, then I kill them. It was getting kind of boring, so I had to make it more interesting.

The usual death sentence for trespassing is carried out by smashing. I get a newspaper, tissue, a shoe, or whatever is in reach, and simply smash the spider against the wall or ceiling.

A second method utilizes rubber bands. I use this when the target is in a difficult to reach area. This gives me a chance to keep my archery skills sharp. The downside is I will mis-fire occasionally and the spider will have a chance to escape. But direct hits can be very rewarding. I once caused one of those skinny long-legged spiders to explode with a direct hit. 3 of its legs were left hanging on the web, 2 legs were on the ground. The body and the remaining 3 legs were never found.

The most recent group of eight-legged invaders have experienced death by fire. Those long BBQ lighters are perfect for me to use. It's too bad spiders don't actually burst into flames. They just kind of toast. I have to be careful, because burnt spider smells pretty bad.

I just hope the spiders from Harry Potter never find about what I do to their friends. But my next WMD (Weapons-Making-Day) will have plans for a flamethrower just in case.