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Henry: My Hero

Have you ever wondered what kind of spider that is in your bedroom window? Is it a wolf spider? Is it a black widow? (If you responded yes to the last question, kill the spider immediately. Please.)  No matter what species of spider encroaches on your personal space, you have to admit–it’s nice having him around. His name might be Henry. He might be a bulbous orb weaver (Google images of “orb weaver,” I dare you). A few things about Henry are definite. He’s there every evening when you get home from a long day of work. He always says the right things. He knows you pretty well–that you try to match your underwear to your socks but the blues are a little bit off, that you watch Big Bang Theory very late at night. Your spider hates you for that, by the way; one of his eight tiny legs face palms his tiny face. But he’ll never judge you. He’ll watch you and lure you in with his exotic ways and love you from afar until you love him back. Kind of like KZSC. Both Henry and KZSC are delightfully predictable, even when you’re Facebook stalking Marty O’Reilly (http://martyoreilly.com/): they can always be found on the web.

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