The Roommate Agreement
Listen, I don’t understand humans. One moment, they’re perfectly calm, walking around their giant nests, drinking their weird bean juice. The next moment, they spot me on the wall and completely lose their minds.
Seriously. The screaming. The flailing. The flying shoes.
We Had a Deal!
I thought we were roommates. I live in the corners, I keep to myself, and in return, I do my job—free pest control!
Mosquito buzzing in your ear? I ate it.
Fruit flies all over your bananas? You’re welcome.
Tiny house centipede giving you the creeps? Handled.
And yet, instead of gratitude, I get full-blown panic attacks and broom attacks.
My Webs Are ART
Do they not appreciate the intricate beauty of my webs? Delicate, glistening strands of silk, carefully placed with the precision of a master architect. It’s basically interior decorating!
But no, they just see “cobwebs” and start wiping them away like uncultured brutes.
The Overreaction
Look, I get it. I have a lot of legs. I move fast. But honestly, who reacts this dramatically to a tiny creature?
They see me and suddenly—
They leap onto furniture.
They flail their arms like they’re being attacked by an army.
They call for backup, as if I’m some monstrous intruder instead of the perfectly polite roommate I am.
Some even use THE VACUUM.
That’s just cruel.
Final Thoughts: I Deserve Better
I am small. I am helpful. I am a talented web designer.
All I want is a little respect.
And maybe… just maybe… if they scream at me one more time, I might just drop down from the ceiling at 2 AM and see how THEY like it.
