Whiz saga

So I walk out of my room into the dark hallway, and an enormous shadow
detaches itself from the ceiling and abseils in a graceful arc in front of
me. It drops to the floor and scuttles off. It's dark, so I could be
mistaken, but it seems about the size of a small car.

Of course, barefoot and terrified of giant spiders, I jump up and down and
scream a bit, and fumble for a lightswitch.

No sign of the giant spider, but I KNOW I glimpsed it abseilling and
scuttling, and when I walk into its effing web I scream a bit more. The
sticky rope clings to my hair, my shoulders, my back.... What if the spider
is clinging as well?

Faaaaark, I hate this!

I run around the house a few times, shimmying and shaking and waving my
arms in the special spider-dislodging dance, then I check the bathroom, the
loo and the study. No sign of anything enormous and eight-legged. (Aside:
not sure, but I think that's actually worse than seeing it and knowing where
it is...)

After I spend the next half hour huddled in my room in abject terror (with
Johno laughing at me via Messenger), nature wants to take its course.
Murphy's Law dictates that the wall behind the dunny will have become the
favourite stopping place of Ernest the Giant Spider (they're marginally less
terrifying if I name them). Yep. That bugger is even bigger with the light
on...

A couple of years ago, right here on ausmoto, Peter sent a URL for a nifty
device called a Whiz, which I thought would be ideal for those terrible
times when you're caught short on the road and you don't want to have to
drop your dacks in snake and spider territory.

I bought one, and have taken it on every long trip - but have never had the
opportunity to try it out properly for real etc, by the side of the road,
where God intended. Have had a couple of half-hearted attempts at home, but
you feel a bit silly really.

But not tonight. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Turning my
back and baring my bum at a spider the size of New Zealand is something I
simply cannot do.

Thanks Whiz.

betty

 

Well......that's just fantastic Betty

Good to see another personal Everest tumble before you

Sometimes a little trauma is just what is needed for personal developement

Congratulations!!

 

Maybe you didn't like the prospect of baring your bum to a hairy spider the
size of New Zealand,

but think of what the spider had to put up with, looking up at at a map of
Tasmania

 

I'm struggling to find a moral to this story Betty....

 

In the end she pissed it in!

 

Yes, they've started in Ernest (the giant spider).


GB

 

Gee Whiz! Have the puns started already?

 

said the actress to the Bishop

mh

 

Poor Betty!

I can totally understand what you've been through...

I'm usually the Designated Arachnid Executioner around here (Deb handles the
legless reptilian interlopers and giant grasshoppers, I deal with the
arachnids and already-dead thingies) and I don't have a big problem with
them - or at least when I'm expecting them...

One night we came home from work late (around 10:30pm) and I really, REALLY
needed to go. Frantic run into the loo, ah, relief, as I got to my feet I
turned to see the grand champion World's Biggest Huntsman sitting on the
wall right behind where my head had been. Well, I squealed like a girl and
hightailed it out of there like my bum was on fire..... and Deb had to do
the rescuing / assassination for a change. I still hear about it
occasionally.

I might have to look into the Whiz thing, for the next grasshopper visit.
They are NOT my friends.

cheers
j

 

Julie wrote -

If you can overcome your Buddhist teachings and want to dispatch a spider,
WD40 with the thin tube sprayer deals with them nicely

(well, it has to be good for something, its sure as hell not a lubricant)

best, andrew

 

Can highly recommend the Whiz

You and Deb have my greatest admiration - between you, you've got most of
the house-haunting nasties covered. I think a legless reptilian interloper
would see me break the land speed record...

I can kill flies and mozzies, no worries, and I'm ok with mouse-disposal
(post cat-attack) or pre cat-attack mouse/bird liberation. I even squished a
couple of redbacks this arv in my bike-shed - but there's just something
about the larger creepy crawly greeblies - cockroaches, huntsmen, giant
grasshoppers, crickets etc <shudder>

I usually live and let live when it comes to huntsmen (yeah, coz I'm too
scared to kill or liberate them) - but they have to know their place - up
high and not in an enclosed space (car, inside of visor, loo etc)

betty, keeping a close eye on Ernest
(actually, I think it's Ernestine...)
who appears to be making herself at
home near the loo ceiling

 

In aus.motorcycles on Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:14:01 +1100

Ahh yes...

One day I went riding on the Pantah. Like all Ducatis of the era it
was a bloody long way from seat to handlebars, so my head was usually
just about inside the fairing.

So there I am, riding along, nose near the instruments... and a bloody
spider makes its way out from behind them!

NOrmally I'm OK about spiders, but not nose to hairy bloody mandible
I'm not. I avoided crashing the thing and managed to come to a halt
in a mostly controlled manner, then spent 10 minutes parked on a
painted median strip trying to find the bloody spider!

Some days later I was on the ride to work hack, an SR250, and noticed
something.... There was a spider on the mirror stalk, hanging on
with all 8 legs and I'm sure looking utterly terrified.

This time, I did not stop. Just kept an eye on it to see how long it
could hang on for....

Zebee

 

LOL - have had similar in a car. How fast can you put it in neutral, pull on
the handbrake, rip off your seatbelt, leap out of the car and slam the door
shut? (The correct answer is .7 of a nanosecond). Very embarrassing when you
realise you've handed control of your vehicle to a spider, the lights have
just turned green and there's a queue of cars a mile long behind you...

Fortunately the driver behind me in the queue was very understanding.

The busload of my students heading back from school sport found it highly
entertaining. Little shits were glued to the windows, laughing themselves
sick over "Miss" running round and round the car - and didn't I cop some
stick the next day!

Eeeek, talk about living the edge..... what if it'd blown onto your visor?

betty

 

Aw shucks! There are two of us, and that does make it easier to be brave!


Morty has twice brought in large (1m and 1.5m) snakes, played with them a
bit and left them be. Still alive. The smaller one wasn't too bad - poor
thing had a few fang marks in him and wasn't feeling too chipper, so Deb
managed to get him in the bucket without too many dramas. I really didn't
fancy staying in the same room, but managed to take some piccies so we could
find out what sort of snake he was (and how much danger we and the cats were
in!).

Second one was still rather fiesty and not in a good mood at all. Took both
of us to get him safely away - the barbie tongs were fan-bloody-tastic! I
managed to grab him around the neck and persuade him that the bucket was the
best spot.

Both were released outside a looong way from home. Turns out they were
harmless water snakes - non venemous and good at eating my main nemesis,
cane toads. Morty picked well!

Hehe I only kill them when Deb freaks out. I'd rather leave them be. I
used to have a 'pet' huntsman years ago, he lived near the kitchen ceiling
and never came down until one night I had a party, some guy decided to take
it upon himself to relocate Herbert to the outside. Herbert objected (quite
rightly in my opinion!) and bit the man twice on his thumb. I had to ring
his (the man, not the spider) wife the following day to see if he was still
alive (unfortunately he was...)

I have had one drop onto my bare leg from under the dashboard in the car
once. Sheer and utter panic! Fortunately it was on a very quiet suburban
street in Casino (he was probably trying to hitch a ride out of town...)

They like light as it attracts bugs.

Cheers
j

 

In aus.motorcycles on Sat, 15 Nov 2008 20:20:23 +1100

It's an SR250. A "cruiser" style umm.. "bike". (THe quotation marks
are because it was a horrible thing. No go, which is good because no
brakes either. The 'Orrible 'Onda Chop did corners better...) The
mirrors were on wide cruiser bars, so the spider was well past my
shoulder.

And he wasn't letting go, no way!

Zebee

 

Spider hung onto the mirror for the best part of an hour at non-legal
speeds in January. He waited until I was pulled over on the side of the
road - contributing to State coffers - before he took advantage of a
passing breeze to float off to safety.

 

I personally prefer a Size 7 Blundstone...

I remember my step father was having problems with spiders in his garden
shed (aka the micro brewery). He grabbed what he thought was surface spray
and coated the inside of the shed. It worked, not a spider to be seen for
months. It was WD40 though.....

I also remember (years and years ago) one of my friends' mothers used that
spray frying stuff accidentally instead of fly spray to get the flies on the
back screen door. They all dropped like - err - flies. Can't remember the
name of the stuff, but it was obviously pretty toxic.

 

I recall a transport strike in Melbourne in the 80s and I was taking
my wife to work on the VF. A huge huntsman crawled out of the
dashboard as we were heading into the city. I didn't do anything about
it as I knew if I called attention to it my pillion would have gone
off her tits. So said spider is crawling over my hands (yeah, OK,
gloved) but I dropped her off in Queen Street then squished the
bastard.

 

Another one you'd love. In the mid-80s there was quite a locust plague
along the Murray River. 3 of us were heading from Adelaide to Canberra
and I was the only one with a fairing (VF1000R) so I was heading with
the other two tucked in behind me. I got such a pounding from the
little bastards. Even with full leathers on, my knees were sore from
being constantly hit and the bike's radiator needed serious hosing out
when we finally got to Swan Hill.

I'd had a similar situation a few years before that when I was doing a
flight navigation exam out the back of Victoria. I landed at Horsham
and the leading edge of both the wings and propeller were red from
mashed locust blood. Coming into land was fun (not), the fuckers were
that thick it was like flying into a massive thunderstorm.

 

When I was a kid, a blast of Mortein would knock a fly out of the air.
Now you've gotta hit the fuckers with the tin.

Makes you wonder what shit was in Mortein back then...