An open letter to the spider who bit me as I slept.

    Why, little spider, oh, why, did you have to bite my balls?  You crawled up my leg across a forest of hairs protruding from my skin and you found nothing threatening along the way.  You crept into my shorts and the darkness of that tight space did not frighten you.  I'm sure I may have groaned and stirred in my slumber but not even that was enough to startle you.  You came upon my balls, those hairy, wrinkly, ominous orbs and instinctively, you knew, "Yeah, this is where I shall inject my venom," and you bit me as I slept.  Why, little spider, would you do such a thing to me?

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The following is a letter of response I received:

To the ugly man who sleeps so soundly,

My name is La Araña Muerde-Bolas.

You killed my father.

And now I bite your balls.

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