To the hippie-boy in the computer lab:
Yes, I killed that spider. I killed that spider because it was bigger than a quarter and I hate spiders. No, I do not care that you think it had a soul or that it was an essential part of the local ecosystem. I know it splattered all over the glass front of the computer lab. I know my facial expression was probably priceless. But then I went and got some paper towels and cleaned it up so the custodians wouldn't have to. Oh wait, I killed some trees with the paper towels. Next time, instead of glaring at me when I smush one of those eight-legged motherfuckers, get up and carry it outside on an index card.
I think the heat is getting to me.
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The other day at work they sent me to cover Owensville and as soon as I sat down at the desk there was A SPIDER dangling from the ceiling IN FRONT OF MY FACE.
Remember that time you told me you killed a dangly spider by smashing it between the pages of a book? Well, the next person to check out Owensville's copy of a random large-print Nora Roberts book will be surprised.
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