There is a spiderweb on the back of my kitchen sink. Not on the bottom, in the cupboard, where no one would notice it. I mean, why would that be an option. It’s right there on top, below the window, going from some glass milk container I have to return to the grocery store for $3 and the bell jar that sits next to it. The spider who occupies the web is just a little guy, something that doesn’t even make much of a blip on the radar my spider fearing ass.

But I let it be. Why? Because I don’t have an ant problem anymore. Well, I do, but it’s cleaning up their tiny little carcasses.

So I texted the following to Joy, my sister, tonight:

There’s a spider that lives just behind my sink. On the top, so I can see the web. But I let it go because it eats all the ants. Either way, I’m kind of trashy.

Her reply:

The spider probably says, “There’s this fat fucker that lives in my house, but I let it go because it leaves food out that draws ants. Either way, I’m kind of trashy.”

For the record, I don’t leave food out.

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I love travelling for my job. I have been to many, many places that I otherwise would not have been able to go if it wasn’t for my work. I’m in a fortunate position to truly love my job. I know, I know, that looks like I’m being a big brown noser, but considering so few people even know about this blog, much less those in power where I am employed, I can assure you I’m being sincere.

Plus, I happen to work for a place that does pretty goddamn well, and has office locations worldwide. The former works out pretty good because I’m always staying at a posh hotel. The latter used to be awesome, but then we did this merger thing and I no longer get to travel to Europe. But hey, there’s still the West Coast and a variety of other offices sprinkled throughout the United States.

Last night I was in DC helping out with something at The W. At first glance, I guess you can consider this hotel fancy. A welcoming and friendly hotel staff (at least at checkin), a pretty nice room with a sexy red light right inside the bedframe, an $18 room service hamburger and fries with a healthy sounding name (like farm raised organic beef or some shit) that ended up being $31 after service charges (so you know it’s good!); you know, the usual for posh places. Well, until the fucking dog started barking.

Yeah, so at about 8:oo or so, I hear this dog barking from a nearby room. I thought that was odd because, you know, a dog in a hotel. But whatever, I figured it would quiet down or its owners would shut it up. I should be so lucky. The thing barked for about an hour, so I hit the concierge button on the phone and spoke to someone. He was cool, but he couldn’t help, so he transferred me to someone else who he thought could. In this hotel, this person was called the “Whatever, Whenever” guy. For real.

His response, “We can’t do anything unless it’s happening after 12.”

“No, wait, what? I have to deal with this for another three hours?”

“Unfortunately, but I can send someone up to talk to the owners.”

What kind of bullshit is that? What kind of ghetto ass hotel allows unattended dogs to bark for hours? I don’t know, maybe it’s me, but that policy is a big pile of shit.

The dog kept barking.

At about 10:30 or so, I called back to get a room change. It was ridiculous. It was a mixture of barking and mewling and the owners CLEARLY weren’t in the room, and if they were, they can go die in a fire.

“I’m sorry sir but the hotel is at max capacity. But I can send security up and they can talk to them.”

Talk to who exactly? The assholes who left their dog in the room so they could go out drinking for hours while their pet barked incessantly? Seriously, those are some jerks right there.

That dog finally quieted down at about 11:30. The owners must have come back. The hotel didn’t do shit, and they clearly didn’t care.

So if you are ever in DC looking for a nice place to stay, The W is not that place. It is in no way, shape or form worth the $199 rate that I’m looking at right now. I’ve had better night’s sleep at a $40 Econolodge. Fuck this hotel.


Credit where credit is due, I just talked to a gentlemen named Dawaun, and he seemed to genuinely give a shit about the suck night I had. So I will say The W has a great employee in him. It’s their pet policy that is ass.

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I don’t like renters.

I mean, I was a renter once. I rented an apartment when I first moved out of my parent’s house, then after I moved out of that, I rented a duplex not far from where I bought the house I’m living in now.

But as far as in my neighborhood, I don’t like renters. I asked my HOA if they could make ti a bylaw that no home owner in the association can rent out their house, but apparently that’s against the law (which is bullshit if you ask me).

One reason I don’t like renters is they don’t care about the people that own the houses around them because why would they? They have no vested interest in the neighborhood, so why bother giving a shit about it. For example, the renters that lived directly across the street from me (that moved out this weekend, THANK FUCKING GOD) must have had eight people living in three bedroom house. And I’m pretty sure all of those fuckers had a vehicle, which of course means all the cars won’t fit in their driveway.

Now, I only have one car, and I park my car in my driveway, so that leaves a spot open in front of my house which they would often use. I freely and fully admit that it shouldn’t bother me that someone parks in a spot that I don’t use. I know, know, know I’m being completely irrational when I say it bothers me. But it does. That’s the front of my fucking house. I don’t want someone’s car there unless it’s either mine or one of my friends. But since I know it’s irrational, I didn’t say anything, it just annoyed the fuck out of me. However, what was really fucked up was the time one of their goddamn friends parked in front of my house and their goddamn car was going over into my driveway. They had to do this because my neighbor apparently didn’t leave enough room for them. Unfortunately for me they had parked and left.

Or the other renters (who are also gone, THANK GOD) three doors down who’s fucking asshole friends would park in front of my mailbox. There is literally barely enough room for a car in that spot, and when someone parks there, it completely blocks both my mailbox and my neighbor’s. You know who never parks there? HOMEOWNERS AND THEIR FRIENDS. Only asshole renters and their asshole friends do this shit.


Fortunately, the house directly across the street from me is going to be sold by the bank and not rented again, but the house three doors down, new people moved in just this week. Apparently there’s going to be at least four (two couples) and maybe kids (or maybe not). It will be hard to beat the last renters — seriously, who the fuck installs a goddamn hot tub in the house they are renting? — but I’m keeping my expectations low. That particular house doesn’t have a very good history with the people who have lived in it.

On the bright side, I may be joining my HOA next month. I was going to do it this month, and I went to the meeting with the intent on doing so, but there were some complaints from some home owners that ate into time and I had to leave earlier than expected because a friend was popping by. So hopefully after September, I’ll have some really good stories to tell about the new shit I’ll be dealing with.

I’ll sign off with a couple of Blu-ray and eBook deals below. If you can’t see them, that means you have adblock enabled. Disable it for this site and you’ll see some nice bargains every once in a while. (There are zero popups on this site, I promise.)

That eBook is written by Kristopher Ruffy, one of the many authors I got a chance to meet at the Scares That Care convention this year. Really cool guy. I picked up the physical copy of that Bigfoot book. I haven’t torn into it yet, but I like the synopsis, and right now it’s just $0.99!


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I’m overdue for another entry (but, all things considered, I’m doing pretty fucking good here lately), but I think I’m going to start dropping stuff I find interesting here too. I posted this video on my Facebook wall awhile back, as well as the HorrorTalk Facebook wall, but I still find it rather fascinating and I want to have it someplace that’s easily searchable.

Plus, my buddy James and I will be watching The Exorcist in a few weeks here for a pretty cool reason (it will be his first time seeing it, I’m very excited for him), so this is going to be pretty timely for a few reasons.

Anyway, if you have ever seen The Exorcist, this is a pretty damn cool 20-minute mini-documentary on its impact. Well worth the time to watch. (James, if you are reading this, wait until after you see the film.)

YouTube Preview Image

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I meant to mention…well, who am I kidding. I knew I wasn’t going to mention what else happened Saturday night at the convention because I liked my closer too much and there was no good way to segue into this small but mildly entertaining incident that happened after Deebo had yelled at the unfit mother.

Not too long after he walked away, maybe 15 – 30 minutes, the fire alarm went off and everyone had to go outside. I was sure it was one of the convention attendee jackasses that set it off, some of those people do get a little rowdy, but it turns out it was faulty equipment. I still don’t know if I believe that story.

Anywho, we got to see some firetrucks. I don’t care how old you are, firetrucks are always cool. Here’s a picture so you can relive the experience with me:


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