Ew spiders!

Ooooh just remembered another wee one ...... I got a bit of a fright while driving one day home in peak hour traffic (I had and old commodore, normally parked outside)  I see this spider climbing up my window screen - one time wasn't too bad he was on the outside.  Another time was a bit more scary when I realised that he was on the inside and on my side running up to my sunvisor, nearly caused a big accident but managed to get off the main road and jump out of the car and spent the next 15mins or so trying to get it out of my car so I could get home.

Can laugh about it now but wasn't so funny at the time

EW ew ew why did i come in here again - i have been avoiding the post since but for some strange reason just had to come back in... and after reading all the mojo-spider-diarys lol feel all creeeeepy all over!

This hilarious story is from an American forum:

So a couple of weeks ago I was in the bathroom. I broke my back as a young child and even though I can still walk, run, et cetera, I get a sore back very frequently, and a good soak in the tub can relieve some of the pain.

So, at about 2:30 AM (I work a night shift; on my days off I am up to some crazy hours) I draw a bath, get my soak on, and prepare to feel the pain disappear.

After about five minutes, I can feel the pain unwinding. I am starting to fall asleep when I see a skitter of movement out of my periphery. I turn and there is the biggest spider I have ever seen.

I don't mean "kind of big". I don't mean "not small". I mean this *#!@ was tarantula-sized and he was staring me down from the five feet or so between tub and door.

I am massively arachnophobic and as such my first instinct is to fight or flee. Since the spider is blocking my (no doubt dramatic) escape, my next move is to stand there and start yelling. The spider, who I now unconsciously refer to as "Parthanon", takes great offense to this and starts walking towards me. Slowly. Purposefully.

It is at this point that I lose my *#!@. With a dramatic and heroic battle cry ("OH %*## NOOOOOO") I snatch a book off of the tank of my toilet and hurl it at Parthanon as hard as I can.

I have never thrown something so accurately in my life. The book hits Parthanon dead-on, right on the abdomen, with the spine of the book. I am standing there now, completely naked, dripping wet, and %*##ing freezing, panting with adrenaline and terror. I have killed it, I think.

I am wrong. Parthanon starts scuttling towards the bath tub at top speed, and now I know it is %*##ing go time. It is either time to escape or die trying. With another book in hand, I leapt over the mammoth arachnid, hurled the book down while in mid-air (striking Parthanon, yet again, with maximum force) and, hoping that it would be distracted long enough not to kill me, I open the bathroom door, hurl myself into the tile hallway, and proceed to fall down trying to get away.

I rolled over, looking at the book now lying flat on the bathroom linoleum. Could it be, I guessed? I'm no Arnold, but surely Parthanon could not have survived my two adrenaline-fueled impromptu missiles, right?

Wrong. The book slides off as I watch and now that spider is %*##ing furious. It is running at me as fast as possible and I am now screaming at the top of my lungs. Incoherently. I would later learn from my neighbours that I was screaming "%*##" over and over again.

But I digress. Parthanon was now approaching me at top speed and my only option left was dire. I hurled myself to my feet, threw myself backwards, grabbed a shoe, and prepared to throw down.

After picking myself up, I crouched in preparation for the final battle. I knew I would only have one chance, and since I used to watch tons of bushido samurai movies, I knew that in battle the combatant who makes the first move usually loses.

I waited, muscles coiled like springs, and Parthanon finally made his mistake. Coming for my feet, he was completely oblivious to my overhand shoe-swing, and I splattered him as hard as possible.

Again. And again. And again. I'm pretty sure I was screaming during this too.

His internal organs and strange, arachnid gore were splattered - I am not exaggerating - probably two feet in diameter. I picked up his corpse, took him to the toilet, and flushed it no less than fifteen times, my arms and face a gory, sticky mass of spider viscera.

The only positive side of this tale is that I have yet to see a single spider in my house since. I can only hope that I killed the patriarch spider and that my house is now listed, in their extensive spider networks, as a forbidden zone.

Yes, this happened to me, the OP. Yes, I know there is no such thing as a patriarch spider and that is not how they work.

No, I will never be in a bathroom without the lights on ever, ever again.

Spiders make me cry.
The worst encounter was one mornign i was getting ready for school i had noticed a big black thing on the ceiling of our kitchen i continued on making breakfast and my lunch.
15 mins later.........We then noticed that the spider was no longer on the ceiling. In great haste my sisters (and brother) all jumped on a chair each and i stood there looking around at the ground only to dicover it wasnt anywhere to be seen, at that moment i felt a tingle on my neck kinda goosebumpy, and there it was the blighter must have come down on its webby thing and landed on my shoulder and down a bit of crawling. I stood there stiff as a board yet crying and screaming for someone to get the effing thing off me.

I think ever since that day and after seeing the first part of eight legged freaks every time i see a spider i get the biggest shivers and jump on a chair.