Spider nipple

So I wake up this morning in a bit of a rush because it's half eight and I need to leave the house by nine to get to yoga for a 10 o'clock class. While getting dressed, though, I pause and find myself staring at my bed. There's something black and lumpy there.

I initially dismiss it as a piece of soil because for reasons I shan't go into here I was repotting a plant at 10 past midnight last night as you do (which probably explains why I was a bit late getting up), but on closer inspection I realise it's *not* dirt because there's … ewww … a couple of legs scattered around it.

Yes, it's a spider. Or rather was a spider. Again: Ewww.

To make a bad situation even worse, apparently when I rolled over onto the spider I did a rather marvellous job of … we'll say 'grinding' down on it, and I now have what looks like a rather fine poo smear arcing across the bottom sheet. Still, at least it didn't CLIMB INTO MY MOUTH or anything.

Having disposed of the body of my nighttime companion (and how many gentlemen in the audience have used that line before?) I grab my bag and head off to yoga.

So when I go to yoga I usually turn up early enough that I can have a solid half hour nap quiet moment of reflection and meditation in the studio before class begins. That being the case, and as unbelievable as this might sound, I don't sit there checking myself out in the mirror. If I had, I would've spotted … well, IT.

As it was we kick-off class with the familiar breathing exercise and that's when I notice IT: a bright red, very visible spot on my right pec that looks terrifyingly like a burgeoning third nipple. Basically, like Scaramanga from the James Bond film The Man With the Golden Gun. I'd put a picture of Scaramanga's nip here but to be honest the sight of it makes me feel a bit queasy so if you want to see it just click away to your heart's content here.

Anyway, once I've noticed this huge thing I can't take my eyes off it. We go into the first posture of the series and I genuinely wanted to drop out, step closer to the mirror and get a better look. Probably while saying something like "OH MY GOD, HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?! IT'S LIKE THE SIZE OF MY HEAD OR SOMETHING!" But then there's also another part of me that doesn't want to draw any attention to it because it's massive and people are SURELY noticing it and I don't want to admit to an entire class - or quite frankly anyone - that a spider bit me on the tit.

The first thing I do when I get home is race to the bathroom to take a closer look because while I'm massively disgusted that I was violated in this way while I slept, part of me just wants to poke it while wondering if I should go to A&E for a tetanus jab or something.

To give the spider its due, it did a bloody good job of spending its final moments somehow managing to breach my hairy chest defences as I rolled around on top of it. Kudos.

As I've now poked and prodded it ad nauseum, I can only wait and see what happens to this thing. Ignoring the two obvious options - it either just heals or I die - I can't help thinking that the spider could've at least had the good grace to be radioactive so I develop superpowers like Spider-Man or something. Although seeing as there are literally only two high-rise buildings near me I'd be pretty limited in swinging options. I don't imagine swinging between the same two buildings would be anywhere near as fulfilling as whooshing through New York.

The only other thing I can think of is that the spider had its wicked way with my face like a face-hugger from Alien and as I type there's a xenomorphic zygote thrashing around in my stomach. It's almost too much to bear; does anyone have Sigourney Weaver's phone number?