MILF on Fire

I’m typing this one handed.

Because I have my left hand twisted behind my back, jammed up under my bra strap clawing at the imaginary spiders. Get your mind to curb level.

My neighbors are trying to sell their house. I know because when I drove by they were showing it. Well. Also there is a sign in the front yard that says “For Sale” but if I didn’t see that I would know because the realtor is walking around on the front lawn in 12-inch spike heels trying to maintain her dignity as she has to extract each foot from the turf with some semblance of grace, which is impossible, unless you are a well-coiffed giraffe, which she is not. And the people with her, who are also not giraffes, have the “buying a house” look about them, and as I drove by singing they looked fearfully at me so I waved enthusiastically with both hands so they would relax.

My neighbors are…well, they are politically everything that I am not. No, not “informed.” No, not “sane,” why would you say that? Anyway, they have never been anything but kind – but we are not friends.

It occurs to me that I haven’t explained about the spiders.

Spiders like me. A lot. And I like them, because they eat the things that are trying to eat my flowers.

Everyday, I water the flowers. As I have mentioned, the section my husband planted is orderly and colorful and beautiful and the one I planted via “guerilla gardening” looks like a hippie exploded, but I water everything because I am awesome.  And it turns out that guerilla gardening isn’t really “guerilla” if you do it in your own front yard. Then, it’s “domestic terrorism” which, coincidentally, is what I call my cooking. That, and “strategic incompetence.”

Anyway. Still haven’t explained the spiders.

I like spiders, but I do not like them on my person.

Watering the flowers is boring. Sometimes I bring coffee. Other times I draw circles and waves and words in the air with the water. Sometimes, like today, I wear earbuds and get a little carried away and play a very passionate water piano to “Someone Saved My Life Tonight,” which has become my theme song, but that is another story for another post.

We’ve all been crazy lately
My friends out there, rollin’ ’round the basement floor…
And someone saved my life tonight…..

Sugarbear.

sugar-bear
(Not an actual sugarbear.)

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SQUEEEEE! This is an actual sugar bear, or sugar glider, which is so much cuter where can I go to hold one of these look at that curly tail!!!!!!???

What?

Oh, right, the spiders. Sugar bears eat spiders. FYI.

Anyway, after I was finished with the front, I wandered around back, and as I did I noticed that the Potential Buyers were still looking at me fearfully, so I waved enthusiastically with both hands again. The realtor just stood there. Not very friendly, that realtor.

You know what is friendly? Sugar bears. They are marsupials. And they don’t stink or anything. FYI.

Which puts them slightly ahead of most of the men I dated in the 90’s. Also FYI.

So I got to the back yard and turned on the hose and started watering the 400 potted hibiscus and petunias that my husband got me for Mother’s Day, because he is awesome, and also he wanted to get laid. Which is never a problem for me, even without the hibiscus, because he is pretty hot, even when he is giving me that look that tells me that he doesn’t understand me at all and no I can’t have a fucking sugar bear even if they don’t stink.

The potted flowers require a little more attention to detail, as in “not watering my feet or my phone,” and as I stood there staring at my freshly pruned petunias I felt….a spider…..skitter across my neck. There is no mistaking the whispering caress of a spider’s legs, and I reflexively brushed it off as my mind slowly processed that it was, in fact, a spider. And then watched, in horror, as that spider turned around in mid-air and flew directly at me and landed on my shirt like some kind of scary arachna-yoyo. So I brushed it off again and IT DID IT AGAIN AND I SWEAR THIS TIME IT WAS THROWIN’ HORNS AND I MIGHT HAVE HEARD METALLICA.

 

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(Not an actual Metallica)

I did what I normally do in these situations, which was to find an appropriately sized leaf, and hold it enticingly in front of the spider while making soothing noises so it will climb onto it and I can calmly return the poor li’l guy to the flower from whence it came.

I most certainly did NOT Go screaming out the gate into the driveway like a Riverdancing MILF on fire, roaring “DID YOU BUILD A WEB ON ME, MOTHERFUCKER???”

Which is why I have imaginary spiders.

It also may be why the for sale sign is still in front of my neighbors house.

Sugarbear.

Random Endnotes:

Don’t know what Riverdance is? That’s because I am way more hep than you. Ask anyone. Maybe this video from The New Yorker will help you learn some more current viral dance moves, like the Shmoney.

Also, do not image search “MILF on Fire.”

I said DON’T!

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18 thoughts on “MILF on Fire

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  1. You know, I’m sure, that when you tell some people not to do something with a big upper case “DON’T”, you render the actions irresistible? Of course you do! Google told me all I needed to know for the time being. LOL I try not to frighten potential buyers of neighbors’ houses. I want their signs down before mine goes up. I also don’t go greet them and immediately tell them about the bears. I like spiders because they eat things that would like to chew on me, but also, not on me. Great fun read.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Domestic terrorism, gotta remember that.

    That image of the gardener adding water to her cocktail is freakin’ hilarious. You and I need to hang out sometime while I water. No, I mean the garden. I have hydrangeas. And spiders.

    Real estate agents can all collectively shove their long spike heels right up their tight little clipboards. I never met one that didn’t instantly remind me of a perfume saleswoman at Christmas and make me clutch my purse tighter to my side. That oozing voice–“Well, how ARE we today?”

    We? We are fine, lady, how’s that Xanax dosage workin’ out for ya? Should you really be mainlining Starbucks while you’re on that stuff? Won’t they cancel each other out in your colon or cause some sort of a matter-anti-matter explosion that stops time and space for three properties? That eyebrow lift didn’t stop time. No, I wouldn’t like a flier.

    PS: Spiders attach a line of web to whatever they’re walking on every couple steps like a rock climber hammering a piton into a boulder. It’s a safety line in case some insane gardener flings them off into the void. Gently nudge them away, then quickly grab that line and walk over to the nearest leaf while they’re furiously pulling themselves back up. Drape the whole thing across their new home and hand them the keys. No real estate agent ever moved a property faster.

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    1. “insane gardener flings them into the void” hahahaha. Ok, but I gotta tell ya – not tryna pimp my own posts but there is another called “I only run when chased” that will give you some background on my over the top reaction to frisky spiders. TLDR: They REALLY like me. 🙂 Thanks for the read!!

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      1. Gonna check that out.

        Spiders love me, too, if their spring tradition of crawling into bed with me and sampling my legs is any indication. They use the Braille method of reading their food labels, judging my fat content by mouthfeel.

        Lucky for them, they can get their Recommended Daily Allowance of adipose and snark in one bite. Unlucky for me, they seem to have all the impulse control of a frustrated blogger around a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy.

        How about that? I’m spider chocolate.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. OK, read it, laughing even harder now.

        TWO running bras? Holy crap on a cracker, my first one digs into my shoulders so much that if I added another, my arms would probably pop off like a Barbie in an illegal day care center.

        I’m gonna tell this story just to irritate you.

        Mt. Hood is the closest hikeable volcano to Portland, Oregon, so I’ve been there quite a bit. Because solitude. If you wait until the end of summer to go, the spiders have engorged themselves on deer so much that their ten foot webs really do straddle the entire trail.

        The smart hikers locate a long stick right away and wing it back and forth in front of themselves as they hike, destroying booby traps and pissing off Shelob after Shelob. Just before I learned this trick, I marched through about a dozen of them. Then I felt it on my scalp.

        They were so fat and heavy that they were parting my hair a little as they desperately swam to the edge of the pool. I walked over to a low branch and gently moved my head under it, dragging them off without touching anybody. I could hear them hitting the ground with soft Plop! Plop! Plop! sounds. Remember that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark?

        They’re kind of like that couple I found humping in the women’s sauna that one time: I never learned their name but I’ll never forget them.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I have hiked on spider laden trails!! Big scary colorful ones (the spiders) and before I learned the stick trick I walked thru one and I was not as calm as what you describe, in fact I’m pretty creeped out just reading that….

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  3. Thanks for that video — I now feel super-duper old. I had never heard of the majority of the dance moves. I congratulated myself on hearing about (but not knowing what it looked like) the Dougie. I also was pretty stoked to find that I actually knew the Whip/Naynay (not that I could dance it or anything). As for the rest — I had no idea.

    Spiders — I attempt to leave them alone when they are outside (unless they are coming for me or something), but if they venture in the house, all bets are off. I typically scream, “Hello! My name is Jana Kendall — you invaded my house. Prepare to DIE!” as I look frantically about for a shoe so that I can squish them. Of course, about 50% of the time, while I’m grabbing a shoe, they disappear — leaving me to wonder when they’ll strike next.

    Liked by 1 person

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