#1 - RESURRECTION

I can't believe how long ago my last blog post was. As a writer, you'd think I would have stuck with it. But "Kiss My Big Hairy Spider" was created during a very odd period in my life. I was in limbo, temporarily living in Milwaukee between my stints in Seattle, and I decided to spew some stuff out. The name alluded not only to my passion - arachnids, specifically theraphosid, or tarantula, spiders - but also basically translated as "fuck you"; these are my opinions, this is my rant.

I am now speeding into my 51st birthday and, believe me, I have more to rant about. Always opinionated and always irreverent, I have plenty more to spew. Social media has pretty much shit upon anything that was pure, and I confess I've been dragged into its cesspool. I avoid getting involved in discussions with anyone I don't personally know and respect, but few have similar restraint. I post my pretty pix. I advertise my pretty spiders. But I shun the ugly masses and ignore the inane.

I have been professionally peddling arachnids, herps and other exotics since 1982. Outside of my own businesses (e.g., Jacobi Herpetoculture, The Living Terrarium, SpiderShoppe, Exotic Fauna Enterprises), I have held pet industry positions from reptile manager to buyer to delivery driver to salesman specializing in wholesale premium dog and other pet foods to general manager of a multi-million dollar pet wholesaler servicing Petco and independents in the five states of the Pacific Northwest, which also operates - and still does - the largest veiled chameleon breeding program in the world. I know some shit. Most of the time, I know my shit. So, if you're interested in learning the truth about tarantulas and other arachnids instead of what some newbie quoter of half-truths and regurgitated nonsense posts, read my blog. If you're interested in reading my rants on the things about the hobby that piss me off, read my blog. If you want to hear about my travels and experiences, subscribe here.

The KISS MY BIG HAIRY SPIDER blog has been resurrected. Again I spew. Perhaps you read.

This is a RESURRECTION

The Return

After an initial three consecutive days of rambling, I took a few days off. I lost my Internet access for a day or two and spent the weekend painting the living room and bedroom. I even decorated. I may be nesting.

Bill and Bruce made it back from their Daytona adventure yesterday morning. I tagged along with Bill when he dropped Bruce back off home, about a half hour north of Milwaukee in Cedarburg. It's a beautiful and quaint little town popular with tourists, and Bill and I enjoyed lunch and a coffee. They shared tales from the trip, including being hassled by clueless FL fish & wildlife officers who wanted to bust them for not having a reptile selling permit to sell tarantulas.

I hope to make it down to Daytona next year. Right now I'll look forward to the Chicago [Tinley Park] NARBC show in October and, probably, the December show in Hamm, Germany. Still, reptile shows aren't as enjoyable for me as they once were. Herpetoculture has changed a great deal. There is such an emphasis on mutants. All sorts of selective [in]breeding goes on to produce animals that look nothing like the beautiful creatures favored by natural selection. Everything is a "morph". Some - the "spider" ball python springs to mind - have serious problems, but are still bred for their pattern or color. This phenomenon isn't exactly novel. All sorts of domesticated animals have been manipulated by humans to produce freaks. I'll stick with "wild morphs". At least arachnoculture doesn't have albinos and piebalds and triple het for reverse creamsicle polka-dot.

Until next time... listen to more Pink Floyd, MJ