At least someone understands the appeal of working with spiders, and it ain’t Spider-Man.
Pharyngula
Evolution, development, and random biological ejaculations from a godless liberal
At least someone understands the appeal of working with spiders, and it ain’t Spider-Man.
I think more apropos would be this.
Wimpy? According to the comic, Spidey can lift 25 tons! If Peter ever got his hands on you, he’d break you over his knee?
What have you got, Frank? Without your collection of penis substitutes, you’re just a dumber, poorer, more violent, and less theatrical Batman.
That sounds like someone who’s never seen a peacock spider. Depending on what he started with, Spider-Man might have toned the flashy colors (and dancing) down a lot.
The mantis shrimp? The coral snake? The blue-ringed octopus? The poison arrow frog? Since when to bright colors make an animal wimpy?
I saw my doctor today & she asked if I’d had bad reactions to my prescriptions. I told her that I had–I can always tell if I’m hallucinating because of bad reactions. I see tarantulas climbing up and down my bookcases. I’ve worked some with them, so thinking they are in my apartment isn’t scary, just disconcerting. My normal reaction is, “OK guys, take it outside!” No, I’ve never worked on breeding them . In the regional park, near where I live, roads are closed to protect migrating males. (Oh, yeah, newts too.) I’ve stood there and watched the male tarantulas going by. They’re a beautiful warm brown color, and I’ve always though they look like a 1950s alien movie, with their high-stepping legs and eight eyes.
Over here in good old GB ,False Black Widows are in the news again .A guy was in bed watch Netflix when one bit him on his hand .It left a hole the size of a £ coin
@5 So that gingrich bloke has to have protection when he goes acourting ?
I still remember the night, when I was ten or twelve or so, that Dad was bitten by the black widow spider. Due to a backache, he had moved from bed to a mummy bag in the living room. During the night, something pinched his shoulder, and he sleepily reached for what he thought was a burr and pulled it off. He woke up the rest of the way a while later, felt pain throbbing in the spot, and turned on the light. The “burr” was a dead black widow. The household was awakened, and the cosmic sound track started playing “Yakety Sax.” Quietly, at first.
Calls were made to the emergency room, and we tried to reach our family doctor. My oldest sister insisted we put an ice pack on the bite, which was now in the center of an expanding red area the nearing palm size. We finally got Dr. Codd (his real name), and Dad was to go to the ER and get a shot that would make him sick but prevent him from dying due to the bite.
As they got ready to go, he noticed that the hurting had ebbed. The bite area now seemed to be the size of a quarter, or maybe a nickel, and the redness was giving way to pink. More phone calls were made with the result that we just stayed home, and kept the ice on, and after a while, everything was fine.
Days later, he was telling family friends Bob and Ann about it, concluding his recital with the information that he had no more problems from the spider bite, though his back still gave him trouble. Bob turned to Ann and explained “His back is worse than his bite.” So we killed him. The End.
Much as I mock the other parts of the Comics Code, Frank Castle is a serial killer and deserves to be behind bars.
inflection, no, he doesn’t.
I think you think that because you give more weight to the law than you do to actual morality.
(Fuck justice, right? Just adhere to the law, whatever that may be)
He’s an archetypal fictional vigilante anti-hero, and he puts his life on the line to only go after crims and defend the innocent. There’s a reason that trope exists.
(You know who should have been behind bars? Real-life murderers like Dick Cheney and George “the Shrub” Bush, who actually caused orders of magnitude more deaths and even more suffering to millions of people for their own convenience)