Dead Spider

I think there's a dead spider in our bathroom. I say I think because I'm not entirely sure it's fully dead. I mean it's only got four rather squashed and crumpled legs and it hasn't moved for a whole day, but I'm still not convinced. It might be pretending. Spiders are the kind of evil bastards who would pretend to be dead when they're not. Don't get me wrong, I prefer it this way than scuttling around but there's still something about it that's making me feel tingly and sick when I see it. And I can't get rid of it either. Not without veeery large boots on. Just in case. I looked at it (from a short distance just in case) for ages, trying to work out where it's head was but I couldn't tell. I don't care what anyone says they're evil. Evil. They can think you know. I saw one once. I saw one actually stop in front of a closed door and slowly lower itself to fit under. It stopped. It stopped to think about it. Clever. And that's why they're evil. They fly too. They fly through the air even though there's no web there. They know. And they know who hates them; they know who the weak ones are.

The only good thing about them is that they kill the males after mating. Good idea that.