Quote:
Originally Posted by DanielDudley
I was tearing out a wall years ago with a buddy who was built like a linebacker. inside the wall were two mice, looking out at us. My buddy pointed his hand at the mice to comment, and quick as a wink, a mouse jumped on his arm and ran up into his shirt. You should have heard the screaming as he danced and shook around until the mouse finally ran out his pant leg.
I just about died laughing, and you should have seen the look he gave me for doing so. He was no wuss, but I never saw anything like it outside of a Three Stooges movie
You kill biigassed spiders on the ceiling with a broom. Put a cloth on it, and beat the effing life out of it.
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Ha!
Many years ago a friend and I were trapping muskrats on the river when I experienced my first exposure to severe entomophobia.
We were in a tiny canoe. I in front, he in rear. He, being 6'8" and disproportionately heavily muscled even for a giant, made my end of the canoe ride in the air with the gunwales on his end nearly at water level.
Anyways, somedamnhow one of those ugly-looking 1.5" white june-bug grub things with a black head ended up in the canoe. So trying to get it out of the boat I flipped it with my oar and toward him unfortunately it went.
Welp, were I not hanging on to the bow of that tiny canoe for dear life as my friend, screaming, screeching and bucking around trying to swat that little insect out of the air, then off his lap then on the floor of the canoe would probably have been funny.
Up he jumped in abject panic like his clothes were on fire, jumping and flailing and hollaring like I don't know what all. Oars and traps, dead muskrats, I and I assume one tiny uglybug went flying.
The amazing thing was that we survived the attack. Literally, one second he was Tom Sawyer and I Huck Finn. The next he were a screaming demon and I a surprised mass of discombobulated disorientation.