The Legend of the Spider of Death (AKA "Can you find the iguana?")

Are you a sufferer of arachnophobia?

I am.

It sucks more than a vacuum cleaner.

And that’s a lot.

One night I was in my room, sitting in bed, and enjoying writing a story about someone or something or whatever. Pen in hand, tea by my side, paper in front of me… *ah* …the only thing that could have made it better is if the tea was soda and the pen was candy… and the paper a movie starring Eddie Izzard, Ed Helms and Will Smith. Let’s throw Keisha Castle-Hughes and Karen Gillan in there for balance.

(Of course I would still wanting to be writing said movie, and would need at least a $100,000,001.82 budget. I’m not picky.)

This film would be entitled: “Snow White Powder and the Seven Dealers” it would win all kinds of awards (including “Coolest Writer”) and make me famous.

Me getting famous:

While I was trying to get famous, I innocently glanced at the floor.

*Was that movement?*

I glanced again (this time not so innocently)…

*GASP!* IT WAS MOVEMENT!

It was a spider…

…of death.

But it wasn’t just ANY spider of death. This was, I shit you not, the biggest, baddest, baby-eatin’est son of an eight-legged, creepy, crawly, she-devil I have EVER seen in my entire life.

Then it began running towards me.

Now, let me take a moment to say that I know I suffer from arachnophobia. I know that what I actually saw was probably something like this:

But that knowledge doesn’t help me.

It doesn’t help me one bit.

What I SAW, What I remember seeing, what has been seared with a hot-iron into my memory FOREVER looked like this:

I was terrified.

I was Petrified.

Mortified.

Stupefied.

By a spider.

That was charging me.

I jumped up.

And I screamed.

Like a girl.

And it ran under my bed.

At the sound of my heart exploding, Behemoth, my brother—who was asleep in his bed across the room, woke up… ish.

He (kind of) opened his eyes and (sort of) looked to see why I was screaming like a banshee.

Of course, by this point, I was merely hyperventilating.

So he did this:

And then he went back to sleep.

I was (for all intents and purposes) alone in my room with a giant, man-eating demon sent straight from the bowels of HELL to torment me for my SINS!

There was a spider in there too.

Okay, I kid…

…the spider WAS the demon.

Somehow (I don’t remember exactly how) I escaped the bedroom with my life.

I was determined(ish) to defeat this atrocity of creation, and reclaim my right as the ONLY ONE who could hide under my bed.

But I needed to find something to aid me in my quest.

I went looking for a flashlight.

I couldn’t find the bloody flashlight.

Damn.

I stumbled on an electric lantern.

After I got up again, I took it into my room and tried to peer under the bed. This is difficult to do when you refuse to get closer than ten feet from the bed in question. (I wasn’t going to stick my face down there for it to feast on!) Luckily my bed is raised a bit high off the ground, and none of my blankets were hanging down. So I could see decently well as I looked for the beast below.

I didn’t find it.

The next day my mother brought a flashlight in from the truck.

FML

I still couldn’t find it.

Actually, I never found it.

To this day a demon-possessed spider dwells in my room… and I sleep on the couch.

Did you find the iguana?

Rafe and Mae and the Franken-Fan **UPDATED**

Mae may not wish to be acknowledged by her real name; Mae may not wish it known that she fraternizes with me at all. So, know that "Mae" is not Mae's real name. And, although I do know a Mae--though Mae would be that Mae's middle name--I do not want you to assume that Mae may actually be Mae's real name. It is not. It is a pseudonym. (Which, coincidentally, is today's word of the day.)

Pseudonym: v. to alter or embellish the truth so as not to be associated with Rafe.

We may now begin.

Mae and I had been discussing cluttered desks, homework, and the Pope (whom she would probably not clean for) when--somehow--we got on the topic of cleaning fans. (Because we have fascinating conversations.) To be clear, we were not discussing fans that do the cleaning, but the cleaning of fans. Apparently she was entertained by this.

Now, I know what you're all thinking: "Did he use 'whom' correctly?" I believe I did. However, if I didn't... shut up.

Some of you are probably also wondering how one goes about making cleaning fans an entertaining topic of conversation. I assure you, it is no easy task. One must begin preparing for the conversation literally weeks in advance.

Sinful Fan.

Here's how it goes:

Rafe is bored and suffering from insomnia.
Rafe stares hard at fan.
Fan is dirty.
Fan should not be dirty.
Rafe gets bright idea.
"I shall clean Fan!" Rafe thinks.
Rafe tries.
Rafe fails.
Epically.
Fan is dirty on the inside.
(Like sin, only made up more of dust and grime than moral corruption.)
Rafe cannot reach Fan's equivalent of moral corruption.

--At this point my notes say "Write message to C.W."--In case anyone was worried. I have sent the message.

Rafe gets another bright idea.
"I will disassemble Fan!"
Rafe goes on epic search for screwdriver.
Rafe fails at epic search for screwdriver.
Rafe finds pocket knife with screwdriver.
Pocket knife fails.
Rafe curses the Swiss and all they stand for.
Rafe, while giving up, accidentally spies screwdriver atop the  pantry.
Rafe goes "WTF? Who put that up there?"
Rafe uses it anyway.
Rafe disassembles fan.
Rafe tries to clean fan.
Rafe (can you guess?) fails.
Rafe needs pressure steamer.
Rafe needs to not be doing this on his desk in his bedroom if he is to use a pressure steamer to clean Fan.
Rafe sighs.
*Sigh*
Rafe goes to bed, leaving disassembled dirty fan on his desk.

Many weeks pass.

Rafe talks to Mae about his fan.
Mae is (for whatever reason) entertained.
Rafe goes home and, suffering from insomnia again (possibly due to two lattes drunk late in the evening) Rafe reassembles fan.
Rafe wonders "Why are there all these pieces left over? Oh well... they probably weren't important anyway..."
Rafe plugs in Fan... then screams "It--It's alive! It's ALIVE!" <--I totally left that out before. THE WHOLE FRANKEN-FAN BIT!!!
Rafe never cleaned fan.
Rafe is failure.
The next day Rafe finds pressure steamer.
FML.

You see? It all makes sense now... to someone. I hope. Somewhere...

This next portion is entitle: CRYING IS FOR LOSERS

Well I've always said I was evil, but few seem to believe me. Tell me, could anything BUT an evil mind even think up such an outrageous idea? Read on, and thank God that this is only a (very sick) joke...

This is what a sadistic mind comes up with when it's half asleep... don't judge... well, okay, you can judge... but don't hurt me...

This TV show is called "A$$holes" "Mean for the Money" or "Light Child Abuse"

Four adults and one child are competing for cash and other prizes.

The four adults take turns saying horrible things to the child, the first to make the child cry wins. If the child can stand a set time limit without crying, (s)he wins the money.

There are themes (where what the adults say has to revolve around a central idea) comeback prizes (where the child gets money for witty comebacks) and even adult v. adult bonus rounds where the studio audience decides who said the nastier things. We even have bonus shows where high scoring children come back to face off against each other.

Of course, after two successful seasons, despite immense popularity (among sadists, masochists, and schadenfreude specialists) the show was cancelled due to massive complaints concerning (not cruelty, but) cheating.

Apparently some of the adults were sneaking in tear gas in small sprayers to cause the children to cry prematurely; parents, on the other hand, were often having their child's tear ducts surgically removed.

After determining that anyone who would submit to this show was some kind of moron, yet believing that even volunteers for suffering needed to be protected, a new organization was founded to prevent such shows from airing again: the SPCI or the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Idiots.

I hope you enjoyed, maybe, whatever.

Happy Birthday MR! (You know who you are... if you're not stupid.)

Ciao!

And, as always, Go do some evil!

~Master Rafe

"God doesn't really need to punish us. We're so very busy punishing ourselves." ~from The Moving Finger, by Agatha Christie.

Quotations From my Quotable Friends

I haven't posted in almost a month... and for that I am sorry. :\ I'm still working on that crossword puzzle I promised, but I lost the paper with the answers, and my sister repossessed the computer I was making it on... so it may be a while. :D

I hope this entertains you in the mean time. It is a collection of some of my favorite quotes from friends, myself, and others that I really like. Though, because my friends may not wish to admit they fraternize with me, I'll only identify them by initials.

"After the punch line, you need to shut up." ~Old Gubaran proverb. "YOU LIKE IT CEITAINLY WE BLESS YOUR HEALTH THE STYLE IS NUMEROUS!" ~Actual text from the packaging for a toy bazooka. Bad grammar and spelling as well. "What is a rafe?" ~J.C. (No, that's not "Jesus Christ," although God is a friend of mine, He knows what a "rafe" is.) "Well it's entertaining writing, and someone got pudding on this." ~M.B. "We will discuss it. End of discussion!" ~M.A.B. "Have people always been stupid or is it a recent development?" ~Danae from "Non Sequitur" "Give me a fly swatter and I'll show you how much of a teddy bear I am!" ~C.R. Also (not) Known As: "Teddy Bear" "The jokes in life are funnier than the tragedies are sad." ~Anonymous "You know, its really too bad you are a guy, you would make a great girl." ~K.M.V.K. (A girl said this to me.) "He's like my girlfriend, except he's not gay." ~L.J.S. (Again... a girl said this about me. I'm beginning to see a pattern... But, she's correct, I am not gay.) "Aaaaugh! I broke the Bible!" ~ M.A.B. Me: "I call it art." M.A.B.: "I call it a bent straw." "Remember... [long pause] ...I forgot." ~My Mother "Let's start over, and I won't blonde this one up." ~T.O. "If you read that E-mail, it's proof that something is wrong with your brain." ~Alice from "Dilbert" "Would you mind not standing on my chest? My hat's on fire." ~Doctor Who (Tom Baker) "Stupidity has a knack of getting its way." ~Albert Camus "Cleverness and stupidity go together." ~Ovambo proverb "You have issues, dahling, ok?" ~P.B. "Don't worry, stupidity produces antibodies." ~Susie from "Calvin and Hobbes" "Which way is straight for me?" ~Me. "A folk song is a living organism; it is ever changing." ~Charles Hoffer "The saying 'I think therefore I am' is not necessarily reversible." ~Me. (Aren't I wise?) "Raphael is always right." ~K.V. “When in doubt, kill cute things.” ~Stephen Pastis "Of all the people in the world... you are one of them." "The greatest thing about America is that we are not judged by what we are, but by who we can schmooze." ~Aubry Anne Carechild "I can only be nice to people for so long. It's like a countdown clock. Some people's time is longer than others. Some people never had any time at all. I'm grateful to have friends that stuck around even after their nice time was up." ~M.R. (Seriously, one of my favorite quotes ever.) "Sometimes the chai tea flows through your blood stream and makes you giddy enough not to care about grammer or spelling!" ~K.V. "Rafe's just gonna make a shitty comment, ignore him." ~J.J.B. "Penguins are the highest form of comedy." ~An old Gubaran proverb. "Swine, ceramic sentinel, Guard the golden disc!" ~Dwight Erthenwall "Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it." "A well developed sense of humor is the freezer that adds balance to a penguin's steps as it waddles the iceberg of life." ~L.H. "Hunt for ways of adding the twist of funny." "The best friends you could ever surround yourself with are the type of friends who would murder your enemies with a rusty spoon just to see you smile." ~S.P. "Hey, what do you think of Pavlov's theory that the Pope is Catholic?" ~Bucky Katt from "Get Fuzzy" "No shame. No mercy. No glory." ~P.B. "My eyes were vomiting." ~M.A.B. (Discussing "Transformers 2." Apparently she didn't like it...) "Explosions are cooler than kites. Word." ~M.A.B. "A true genius will spread the genius' work so that the lesser can know as well." ~S.P. "Dude, if stealing a stick of gum will keep me out of Hell, I'm gonna go rob Wrigley's" ~M.K.V.K. "If you were coming at me with a weed whacker I'd be scared." ~M.B. (Even in context, that was a weird one...) "If you need instructions on how to wash your hands, Maybe you shouldn’t have a job." ~KJ52 "Lost is just like Gilligan's Island... only trippier... and on steroids." ~Me... I have the right to quote myself. Anyway... I hope you enjoyed at least SOME of those. I know I did. I tried to take out the ones that are only funny to me because they recall a funny memory. Still... I'll try to post again this month, and hopefully I'll have that crossword puzzle up soon. For now, Ciao! And, as always, go do some evil. ~Rafe

Plebeians, Cads, and Thank You Notes :) And an AREC Poll.

I’ll admit it.

I’m an ungrateful cad… to plebeians. But they’re plebeians! So, they deserve it… right?

(As an aside: Did you know that a “cad” is an omnibus conductor? It’s true. So my question for you is this: How did one word come to mean both “bus driver” and “asshole”? The only correlation I can find is the fact that—according to a recent AREC* poll—87.9% of all bus drivers actually have ass holes.)

But we were talking about cads and plebeians…

Have you ever met one of those really annoying people who simply NEVER sends thank you cards? Yeah… one of those people.

I’m one of them.

I know, I know… it’s terrible, right? It undermines the whole “sophisticated but evil” vibe I had going. But, alas, what can one do? Besides, I mean, actually mending my ways.

I just want the world to know that it's not because I'm ungrateful. And I’m not trying to be rude. It's because I'm simple(ish) and forgetful(ish).

Here’s what usually happens.

*Well-meaning plebeian gives Rafe a gift or does Rafe a favor.*
RAFE: “Thanks, well-meaning plebeian.”
PLEBEIAN: “Don’t mention it!”
RAFE: “Okay.”
*Rafe doesn’t mention it.*
*Plebeian waits for Rafe to mention it… preferably in a note.*
*Rafe goes on with life, grateful for the gift or favor, but, as per the plebeian’s request, not mentioning it.*
PLEBEIAN: Rafe is a cad!
PLEBEIAN’S FRIEND: I happen to know that Rafe has never conducted an omnibus.
*Plebeian kills his friend in a fit of rage.*
*Plebeian plots Rafe’s demise.*
*Plebeian’s plan backfires when Rafe does something awesome.*
*Plebeian dies bitter and alone.*
*Plebeian tells his children to never give gifts or do favors for omnibus conductors.*
*Plebeian’s children are thoroughly confused.*
*Rafe remains awesome.*
*Reader wonders how the plebeian told his children not to give gifts or do favors after he died.*
*Rafe realizes his odd bulletin point story has gone on too long.*
*Rafe ends bulletin point story.*

You see? It’s really not my fault that AFTER I thank the plebeians they ruin their lives over me not writing a note. I mean, when I give someone a gift or do someone a favor… it’s usually someone I’m trying to impress, so why the hell would I care if they thanked me in a note? I want it to be easy on them, not burdening them with social obligation of writing a note thanking me for some trivial thing like a box of vinegar.

(Boxed vinegar? It may be the greatest thing since sliced tomatoes…)

Seriously though… I accept the verbal thanks that people give, and I don’t look for a written thanks. Why should I? I assume they’re grateful, and yeah. Only problem is that I feel bad when I forget to write thank you notes. :( It’s like… they’ll think I don’t care or something. Not that I do care. Just… I want people to continue giving me things… and doing me favors.

For some reason people don’t like giving gifts and doing favors for cads.

Conducting an omnibus is like the worst job EVER!

____
*AREC specializes in making up polls based on Rafe's intuition on the subject. Rafe is not responsible for any stupid decisions made based on poll data.