Sexy Pink Monkey Panties Strike Again!!

As you damn well better know by now, I always carry a spare pair of panties wherever I go.  I might not be wearing any... but I still carry a pair.

Aren't you glad underwear can't blog?  I certainly am. 

It's not that I'm afraid they'd go around talking about my sex life (HA!  I have a 3-year-old and my mother is living with us... we have hallway sex.)  I'm not concerned about the 'pillow talk' that might hit the gossip pages (if I had time for pillow talk, I'd spend it getting laid!).  I'm not even worried about the embarrassing tales my underwear might be able to conjure up.

My real fear... is what the Sexy Pink Monkey Panties could tell.

For example...

Yesterday I left work and headed down a busy street through the college campus on my way out of town.  At block #3, I caught a glimpse of a small, black, FAST, object as it ran across my passenger dash.  Oh that better not be what the fuck I think it is!
...
It was!
...
At block #5, it ran across my stereo in my direction.
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You should know this event is transpiring at the precise time that some dumbfuck dean declared all the classes should end and students should proceed to their next allotted borefest (they pay for this shit you know?)  Either that, or there was a bomb threat.  I'm not really sure.  The only screaming I could hear was the arachnophobic freak in the back of my brain crying hysterically and telepathically wishing the spider would burst into flames and die.
...
Normally, I could keep my sanity (some of it) about me and pull off the road to evacuate the vehicle... (and maybe blow some hot college dude so he'd kill the damn thing!).  Unfortunately, I am on "Fuck You Street" which has 50 stop lights, no side streets, and 30 pedestrian crossings.  Ever seen people jump out of a car during a Mexican fire drill?  I seriously thought about it as the little black bastard ran across my speedometer!!
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Swatting, driving, and avoiding the idiot crossing the street while texting is not an option... that's just too much multitasking!
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By block #9, I am literally shaking... driving... my eyes are flicking from the spider on my mirror adjust to the road, to the spider, road, spider, road, SEIZURE!!!!
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WHERE THE FUCK IS A SIDE ROAD!!!
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To the spider: "Don't you move you mother fucker!  I swear to all that is holy you are way too fucking close to me and all it's going to take is one more little leg flick and I'm slamming this fucking Oldsmobile into that gas tanker and killing us all!!  I'll do it you little bastard.  You just stand there like a nice fucking spider and you're the only one who will have to die...."
...
By block #11, I'm finally into lighter traffic and I know I'm running out of time.  At any given moment that little bastard is going to decide to run across my door, down my seat belt, and into my ear where he'll lay fucking eggs in my brain and kill me!!
...
I make up my mind once I get through this stoplight, I'm pulling over regardless!  Oh, look!  It's a parking lot!  THANK FUCKING GOD!!
...
So I pull over into the parking lot of the fire department...
... gently park the car
... slowly open the door
OMG OMG OMG 

HE'S LIKE 2 INCHES FROM MY FUCKING HAND

OMG OMG OMG!

... reach across the seat for a swatting device (aka an envelope)
... and proceed to knock the spider off my door on the third swat

And fall he did...

RIGHT BACK INTO THE MOTHER FUCKING CAR!!

 And holy shit, the Princess can fly!  That's right fuckers!  I went airborne diagonally, right out the door into the parking space next to me.
...
Now there I stand in the parking lot of the fire department with a spider in my car and no fucking intentions of getting back into that metal death trap with that homicidal eight-legged sociopath!
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But I've gotta find him, because if he disappears, I will be sleeping in the fire engine while I bug bomb my car!  (And frankly, I just pulled an 8 hour shift and I'm in no mood to blow a fireman's hose for a favor!)
...
Just my luck, the little assfuck is sitting there in that little nook at the edge of the car and under the seat.  You know the spot... it's the place you always drop the cigarette lighter while you're driving.  The spot filled with crumbs, and loose change, and probably some hooker's hypodermic needle.  I can see him... but how the hell can I get in there to kill him without letting him rip off my knuckles and drag me under the seat of my car?
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I yank open the back door in search of a weapon.
WHERE THE FUCK IS MY FLAMETHROWER?
...
Cleaning chemicals from work... are they flammable?  I have a lighter!!
...
Ahhhh!
JUMPER CABLES!!
(Yes, I did consider hooking them up to the battery first, but I figured I'd only succeed in electrocuting myself and then the bastard spider would be free to cruise around in my Olds with some fucking hip hop crap blaring out my windows!)
...
I yank the jumper cables out of the back seat and proceeded to stab at my front seat like an axe murderer in the hopes that one of the hits would land a deadly blow to the tiny monster under my seat!
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At this moment I want you to create a visual in your head (because by now, two vehicles have pulled into the parking lot to witness this incident).

Tiny white girl standing in a parking lot with both driver's side doors open.  The jumper cables are hanging out of the back seat, while I am stabbing frantically at my driver's seat with the other end.  And the sexy pink monkey panties  that were in the back seat are now laying in the parking lot where they fell.

STAB STAB STAB!!!

...

Yes... I got the fucker!  Deader than a fucking door nail!

I then scooped him out of my car with an empty cigarette pack.  I sat back in my seat (without shutting the door) and took a couple of deep breaths.  I did one of those "I just walked through a spiderweb" dances/seizures and realized I still had a cigarette in my hand.  I relit the bastard and took three long drags off of it before calmly shutting my car door and driving off.  I did not even look around to see how many people were staring or dying of laughter.  I figured it was best to vacate the scene of the crime before someone called the padded wagon on my crazy ass!!

I'm very glad those panties don't blog!!

And with that being said... voting is up for the new security team over at The Queen's place.

  Whomever gives me a resume with the best 'Spider Assassination Techniques' will get my vote!!

And for more "I hate spiders" laughter... check out this comic by The Oatmeal... it is the perfect visual!