No Centipedes

I just saw a spider run across my floor. I am firmly opposed to this sort of thing, this spider-running. If you spiders insist on entering my home, you must not run across my floor. And if you must run, you had better be running after a centipede with murder on your mind, as I fucking cannot abide centipedes. I don't care if they dash like mad or lurk casually - centipedes are sinister, unholy assholes who ought to be smashed on sight unless they can demonstrate some sort of redemptive social skill, e.g. perhaps if a particular centipede can play several tiny guitars at once, he ought to be permitted to hire a manager and travel the country showcasing his musical ability in a feel-good vaudevillian extravaganza the likes of which we have never seen and are unlikely to see until Menudo resurfaces and joins forces with Gallagher, Roller Derby, and The Traveling Wilburys to fight the 104th Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry Civil War Reenactors with live ammunition.