I am not The Spider Queen

Okay, spiders, seriously? You're about to cross a line that you can't return from, and that line is that there are too many freakin' spiders in my room and I'm about to go Peter Pan on your asses (I like this Peter Pan analogy, you can decide for yourself what it mean) and you'll die, and I'll be sad, and I'll feel guilty, and you'll still be dead.

I saved a spider a while ago and now the spiders seem to be congregating around me. They are growing in size and numbers. Last week, there were probably three daddy long legs, then there was a smallish huntsman, then there was this large ass huntsman outside my mum's room (at a different house to the one I am at now) and now there is a quite threateningly scary large huntsman in my bathtub. I don't know how you got through my window...



WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME, SPIDERS? I DON'T UNDERSTAND!

Ever since I saved that freaking spider from getting drowned and stopped my spider killing spree (that was a few months ago), the spiders seem to have named me their queen. I'd be alright with that if they would freakin' tell me and not just randomly turn up and expect something from me that I have no idea how to give them. Do you want food? I'll give you food if you don't bite me (and I somehow manage to catch flies with my bare hands). Or maybe you can be my protectors? Save me from mosquitos and keep watch over my stuff while I'm at Moreton. I'd quite like that.

I'm not sure if threateningly scary large huntsman is even alive. He hasn't moved in twenty minutes...Maybe he's stuck in the tub? I sure as truck ain't gonna be saving his freaky ass. No siree.

...Actually I might. I'd rather like to be the spider queen... But I'll get a box and release him into the wild.

I better do that before Laura gets home...she truckin' hates spiders.

Wish me luck
-The Spider Queen