Acidman's writing about bats. I used to be afraid of spiders, but I was never afraid of bats. Bats were always kind of exotic and cool, even though they were everywhere when I was a kid. Spiders, on the other hand, were just flat-out scary. I despised those hateful little bastards. It probably dated back to the time when we were swimming at my grandpa's pool, and my dad got out of the water and put on his tanktop, only to discover that a black widow had moved in and staked out a claim. Despite being a big tough man who had survived marriage, spoiled children, and repeated attempts by the Viet Cong to shorten his life, his reaction could only be described as "losing one's shit." Not that I blame him. He handled it a lot better than I would've. At least he didn't scream, "for the love of God, take the children!" as I undoubtedly would've.

Despite being somewhat tough in other respects, I suffered for years with arachnophobia. Even little wolf-spiders would set my blood a-curdling. I never got over the fear until I met this little beauty: the Gold Weaver Spider, of the Australian Persuasion(I've got a great photo of this bastard. I'll post it as soon as I can find it). The Gold Weaver is about as big as a dinner plate, and likes to build her web across bike paths and swimming pools. She's the biggest land spider in the world, and I actually touched one. That was right before I wet my pants, screamed like a girl, and finally got over my arachnophobia. Pretty much in that order.

As for bats, Australia doesn't really have bats, as far as I can tell. They've got flying foxes. Picture a bat with red hair and a 7-foot wingspan, and you've got a flying fox. If you're scared of anything in the animal kingdom, just go to Oz, and you'll see enough of them on a day-to-day basis to get over it.

My girlfriend had to get up early this morning and go to the doctor. Some sort of girl thing, I believe, and I've left the details as sketchy as possible in my little pea brain. Right before she left, she bent over to give me a little peck on the forehead, and my first experience of the morning was a face-full of beautiful, shining cleavage. Every day should start that way.

After she came back from the doctor, we ate breakfast. I didn't have much of an appetite, so I pardoned myself early and got ready for work. When I came back into the kitchen, she was sitting in the corner of the kitchen, playing footsie with herself. I'm still not exactly sure what that was about, but it was strangely exciting.

On the way to work, I walked past a clothing store, and there was an attractive young asian woman fondling a naked female mannequin. She was just staring into space, running her hands slowly up and down the hips of this well-proportioned, though headless and armless torso. She noticed me licking the glass and giggled nervously. She probably realized she had been added to that twisted playlist that runs on repeat in the dollar-a-minute peep-show booth that my brain has become.