You'd think the boys would do a little more about earning their keep besides being the most beautiful boys on earth: I'm watching a "Cops" marathon (hey, shut-UP, man; we ain't got no stinkin' cable in Chez Broad) and the Little Guy gets all squirrelly and starts stalking the lamp on the end table. I look at what he's looking at, and it seems one of the big, creepy spiders that was crawling around the ceiling this afternoon had made its big creepy way into my lamp. Well, before I know it, he knocks the lamp over trying to get the beast, only to run away after the lamp comes crashing down. (Rube, meanwhile, is laying on the preferred spot of the couch, looking at us both like we're high on crack.) Long story short, I Raided the fucker and put him in an empty Gatorade bottle, but now I've got a serious case of the crawlies. Bleagh.