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Subdeacon Joe

A Story of Gas Masks and Spiders

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Stolen from another group...
“A story about my emergency gear.
Okay, so I was going through my Oh Shit Sack and decided to check the seal on my gas mask, sliding it on everything fit tight and was all sealed up
Only issue was a blockage in the nose shroud.
Blocking the exit port with my hand I blew as hard as I could and like a genie from a bottle a wolf spider that was approximately half the size of a Volkswagen beetle popped up out of nowhere and attached himself to my face like an amorous face hugger from the Aliens franchise.
It was at this point that I discovered that a good seal on a gas mask can only be achieved by locking it to your face in a manner only slightly less complex than a shibiri bondage dress.
The spider (we shall henceforth describe him as THE BASTARD!) seemed to have decided that he was going to make the best of a bad situation and began his morning calisthenics by galloping laps the inside of the mask.
And while I am a supporter of a solid cardiovascular exercise regimen I must admit that THE BASTARD could have probably waited a picosecond to start while I was busy thrashing about in a life and death struggle with an M61 mask that had somehow formed an unbreakable seal around my head that would require amputation to remove.
There was serious consideration of that option to that sometime during the tenth century of my eternal struggle, that was approximately the same time that THE BASTARD had decided that he had gotten his heart rate into a nice range and set about in what I can only describe as an amateur version of an Indiana Jones reenactment as he began trying to find some dark hole or cave to explore.
It was at this point as his leading legs began to probe about my sinus cavity that I was overcome with the brilliant idea of HULK SMASH!
While not the most profound idea in existence I can admit that I learned several things that day.
Firstly that the there are many ways to smash your face while wearing a gas mask, second that headbutting the desk is NOT the best option and finally that THE BASTARD was not only females,
But a mommy...
As such during her escapades so far I had been far too focused to note the Billions of microscopic babies that had been clinging to her back during this whole adventure.
And while I applaud a young mother just trying her best I feel it was wrong to try and bring her kids to work that day.
Needless to say, I did in fact smash my face against the desk squishing her against my face (which is NOT in my top ten best experiences I've had thank you very much).
Little did I know that her children would take that as a sign that it was time for them to strike out on their own.
They EXPLODED off her like shrapnel from a grenade, filling every inch of available space with billions upon billions of tiny spiders.
At this point I was blessed with the strength of ten thousand men and ripped the gas mask off my face, snapping the restraining straps and launching the offending article of safety equipment on a ballistic trajectory towards the living room as I ran screaming from the house, diving into the kiddy pool outside with all the grace and poise of a belly flopping walrus as I held my own head under water and screamed at a volume that had whales the world over glancing around in confusion.”
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16 minutes ago, Subdeacon Joe said:
Stolen from another group...
“A story about my emergency gear.
Okay, so I was going through my Oh Shit Sack and decided to check the seal on my gas mask, sliding it on everything fit tight and was all sealed up
Only issue was a blockage in the nose shroud.
Blocking the exit port with my hand I blew as hard as I could and like a genie from a bottle a wolf spider that was approximately half the size of a Volkswagen beetle popped up out of nowhere and attached himself to my face like an amorous face hugger from the Aliens franchise.
It was at this point that I discovered that a good seal on a gas mask can only be achieved by locking it to your face in a manner only slightly less complex than a shibiri bondage dress.
The spider (we shall henceforth describe him as THE BASTARD!) seemed to have decided that he was going to make the best of a bad situation and began his morning calisthenics by galloping laps the inside of the mask.
And while I am a supporter of a solid cardiovascular exercise regimen I must admit that THE BASTARD could have probably waited a picosecond to start while I was busy thrashing about in a life and death struggle with an M61 mask that had somehow formed an unbreakable seal around my head that would require amputation to remove.
There was serious consideration of that option to that sometime during the tenth century of my eternal struggle, that was approximately the same time that THE BASTARD had decided that he had gotten his heart rate into a nice range and set about in what I can only describe as an amateur version of an Indiana Jones reenactment as he began trying to find some dark hole or cave to explore.
It was at this point as his leading legs began to probe about my sinus cavity that I was overcome with the brilliant idea of HULK SMASH!
While not the most profound idea in existence I can admit that I learned several things that day.
Firstly that the there are many ways to smash your face while wearing a gas mask, second that headbutting the desk is NOT the best option and finally that THE BASTARD was not only females,
But a mommy...
As such during her escapades so far I had been far too focused to note the Billions of microscopic babies that had been clinging to her back during this whole adventure.
And while I applaud a young mother just trying her best I feel it was wrong to try and bring her kids to work that day.
Needless to say, I did in fact smash my face against the desk squishing her against my face (which is NOT in my top ten best experiences I've had thank you very much).
Little did I know that her children would take that as a sign that it was time for them to strike out on their own.
They EXPLODED off her like shrapnel from a grenade, filling every inch of available space with billions upon billions of tiny spiders.
At this point I was blessed with the strength of ten thousand men and ripped the gas mask off my face, snapping the restraining straps and launching the offending article of safety equipment on a ballistic trajectory towards the living room as I ran screaming from the house, diving into the kiddy pool outside with all the grace and poise of a belly flopping walrus as I held my own head under water and screamed at a volume that had whales the world over glancing around in confusion.”

If you keep up with this kind of post I'm pretty sure there will be a special place reserved for you in some place that is extremely hot or very cold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

:o

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

:P

kR

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I encountered one of these arachnids in my kitchen in North Carolina. The eminent danger of squashing releases pheromones which tell the children to jump and flea. This, in turn, causes 46 year old women to instantaneously spring onto the kitchen counter landing flat footed in one microsecond. In the next microsecond they begin emitting a sound that tells all the neighbors within 40 acres that something is terribly wrong. 
 

The surface tension of Formula 409 will hold arachnid babies in place while wads of paper towels are used to mop them up and dispose of them...outside...NOW!...per her instructions. 

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As an archniphobe, I can tell you that wolf spiders, not considered to be dangerous, can actually kill you deader that Friday's fish by causing a heart attack.  They are ugly as anything alien, faster that  greased lightning, and not much given to getting away from you.

 

We have Brown recluse (fiddle backs) and black widows here and neither one scare me as bad as wolf spiders.

 

And God help me, I actually have two spider friends.  Boris (bigger, black and light gray) and Bella (smaller, rusty brown with tan markings) are tarantulas that live in my yard between the garage and the work shop.  They are friendly, slow, not aggressive and they eat other spiders and assorted other bugs-types of wild life.  And they are really fun to watch.

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Not fond of arachnids.

While living in Florida, few days after I found the scorpion in my boot, a friend suggested we go lobster diving after work. We only lived a few minutes from the water. We stopped at my house and I rushed to get my gear and hopped back in the car. While he drove hi 65 Mustang hell bent for the bay, I shucked my sandals and put on my neoprene dive boots. They were pretty tight. I had been meaning to get a new pair.
 

As I finally got the right boot on firmly over my foot, I felt something wriggle under my toes!! I immediately recalled the scorpion and I knew in my haste I hadn’t checked out my dive boots, which had been sitting in the same closet as my other boots. Knowing I could never get the boot off in time before the Centruroides guaninses launched his attack I had to take the offensive. I began to stomp my foot down on the floorboard and wiggle my toes in the most aggressive manner I could, all the while making noises that I’m sure sounded like a pig, if a pig had fingers, and if he stuck a pig finger into a light socket!

 

My friend George hit the brakes, assuming that I was about to attack him or was having a Grand Mal seizure. As the car slid to a stop I hopped out, continued to stomp and squeal until I felt no further movement under my toes and no excruciating pain from El Scorpio’s tail spear. Hopping on one foot, I tore at the boot frantically until it finally came off and I shook out the mess of what remained of the hitchhiker.....it was a jumbo sized cockroach. 

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