Sometimes I wish I lived in the UK. I’ve heard they have SOME big-ish spiders, but then that’s UK people talking and hey wouldn’t even know what they were talking about. You really can’t judge the sizes of spiders unless you’ve been to Australia and you’ve had to spend a night stuck to one side of a room because there’s a GINORMOUS one sitting in the corner, right above the door.
That, my friends, is true fear. Last time I complained about this on Visage-Tome, someone said to just look up the local Berwick pest control people and have them deal with it. There’s a sliver of logic to that, but still, this is Berwick. Not the most thriving metropolis, and many city people would call it the country. So I’d be calling pest control people from the country to deal with a problem that in the country is not a problem at all. I know! I’m supposed to be able to just look at that giant, hairy thing right in its multiple eyes and say “…whatever.” Or just pick it up by a leg and tos it out the back door, so it can have a fulfilling life far away from me.
Theoretically. In theory. The theory of the thing is that I would’ve grown up, able to do that sort of thing because I’m a tough country person. I wouldn’t even think of calling in pest control for anything smaller than a cow. I definitely am not supposed to be sitting in the corner of a room, trying to get advice from the internet because there’s a many-legged horror beast mocking me from the top of the doorframe. I swear that’s disdain in his eyes. His many, many eyes.
Tell you what. Dandenong isn’t quite so ‘country’. I’ll get in some Dandenong pest control. They’ll bail me out without me having to feel quite so inadequate.