Three days ago there was a spidah on my wall right near my bed. Liz killed it and proceeded to shove the smooshed spider Kleenex in my face as proof and to get a rise out of me.
I'll say it. I'm still a little paranoid about this spider near my sleeping area issue. I'm sure he had friends, friends that are probably pissed that he's dead. It's not even that I'm worried about them getting in my bed, which I am, don't get me wrong, I just can't stop thinking about that statistic where you eat like seven spiders a year in your sleep or something. Now that is upsetting.
I've seen some bitchin trailers lately, all for summer movies, all apparantly kickass. I think making movie trailers is my true calling. I'm going to look into that. Also, can I just say how uplifting it is that Snakes on a Plane got made? I feel much better about my chosen career path knowing that someone can make a living off of a movie that abysmal.
I'm exhausted. Here's hoping I don't eat any spiders tonight.
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