The Word Cloud

As you probably understand, this blog is a response to Wrathnars spider blog.
I’ll start by giving Wrathnar a little tip, if you want to keep your house spider free, you should really get one of these little buggers:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qf8pAwGsuF4

They will keep your house free from many types of creepy-crawly stuff.
It would also make it an absolutely Khaloth-free zone. I really abhor those bastards; they are the true spawn of Cthulhu.

I like spiders; I always carry them gently out of the house and wish them the best of luck.
Scorpions, well, they make a nice crunchy noise between my boots, but they don’t scare me.
Centipedes, on the other hand, make my brain wibble, and my legs go all wobbly on me.

Let me tell you about that fateful day my phobia started.
The day was not yet begun; the sun had not yet showed itself above the valleys of southern Lebanon.
My sweet dreams where interrupted by one of my fellow soldiers, who told me I had to get up and make myself ready for a road clearance patrol.

I open my mosquito netting and carefully check my clothes for bugs before donning any of them.
I carefully check my boots for scorpions, before reaching out for dear Agnes (my dear beloved G3 rifle), that’s when I spot the creepy bastard.

A huge centipede has twisted itself around the barrel of my gun, slowly crawling upwards in a spiralling fashion. I can hear the clicking of its mandibles, but it’s the movement of those feet that freaks me out. I cannot bear the thought of touching it, so I grab the other end of the gun and shake it hard. The centipede falls off and lands squirming on the floor, and then it comes creeping towards me. Fast.

I cock my gun, aims and pull the trigger.
Perfect shot, centipede parts splatters all around the room. The shot may have been perfect, but lets face it, it was not really the smartest thing to do. Those poor boys still sleeping, rolls out of their beds and grab their guns. Shouting and confusion erupts outside. Flares are fired into the morning sky.

Imagine my feelings, standing there, with a smoking gun in my hands, knowing I have fucked up, big time.

Then, I feel something move on my shoulder, 2 inches of twitching, dying centipede with glop oozing out of both severed ends. Slowly the feet stop twitching. I whimper like a little girl.
Behind me, my Lieutenant clears his throat, he was not impressed.