First true story :
Ackles recounts, "Just the other night, when I was getting into bed, I picked up the sheet and slid my legs underneath and as I was about to put the sheet back down on my chest, a spider suddenly dropped down from inside the sheet, right next to me on the mattress and I was just like, 'What?' I got it with my hand, put it on the floor, and then stepped on it.
(some of you might remember me posting about it here
and then asking many questions about it)
Second true story:
A few minutes ago I was picking up my basket of laundry to bring to the laundry room when I noticed a spider on a towel so I put the basket back down and was just like, 'Huh, maybe you're the spider I saw the other day.' I got it with my hand AND THEN IT PRETTY MUCH JUST FUCKING DIED THEN AND THERE. *ahem* And then I went to the bathroom and washed the spider down the drain and then washed my hands.
Why does this spider story of his hurt my brain so so much? It's been a long while since it happened or I learned about it and yet there are times like now that I'm reminded of it and ow. How big was this spider in his bed? How secretly dainty are his hands? Because, I just meant to grab the spider and then flush it down the drain but no, it died before I could kill it via drowning. Or maybe he didn't "get it" with his hand but instead just held his hand still and was all, 'Here spider spider spider. Who's a pretty spider? C'mere. That's a good spider.' until the spider crawled onto his hand and that's when he was all, 'Haha, let's see how fast you can run, fucker.' and then put it on the ground before he stepped on it.