He thought he wanted it but now he's like "Uhhhh what do I do with this?"

Y'know, I saw that picture taken in New South Wales (Aussieland) of the gigantic goddamn spider that'd caught, and was in the process of eating, a sparrow. So I thought, "Huh -- that's some fucked-up shit right there, y'all..."

In your life, you will come to certain milestones, one of which is "accepting shit you ain't gonna be able to do nothin' about..." Y'know, stuff like Japanese people clubbing dolphins, the GOP and Furries. I mean, you're totally appalled, but there ain't shit you can do about it. You either accept it and move on, or head up to the roof of the apartment complex across the street from Anthrocon and see if you can get your name on the board.

That brings us back to the Dante-esque horror that was the gigantic goddamn spider from Boganland. What're you gonna do, right? You know that spider's paid off the Prime Minister and is on a Qantas flight to parts unknown (probably in whatever that class is that's above Business Class that the airlines keep totally fuckin' secret because of fears that if you found out they were serving dolphin steak and cocaine up near the pointy end of the aircraft, you might just decided to jump out of your seat, charge the hidden door to the Coked-Up Cetacean Lounge, and proceed to hoover every last flake of that fine, fine Peruvian blow -- or get shot seven times in the back if you're black) and will soon be consume children, the elderly, or blasted passengers stumbling off a Qantas A-380 with a wild look in their eyes and a coke-stache that would embarrass Chuck Barris.

So the moral of this story is: Jesus FUCK I love cocaine!!