I have standards when it comes to spiders, though: I like them small and friendly-looking and not too fuzzy.
Giant, hairy, man-eating spiders, I can do without.
I realize that this doesn't look like a tarantula. It is, however, a spider. And it was remarkably hard to get those flimsy legs just right, so I won't be making any more arachnids.
I once got into an epic battle of wills with a tarantula in Brazil. It was a huge, furry mother of a spider and it had all eight of its hairy legs spread over a giant egg sack. I wanted to take a picture of it with my hand in the photo for reference. I kept reaching out my hand, and it kept lunging at me when I got too close.
In the end, the spider won. I didn't get my picture.
That night, I dreamed that I was bound tightly in spider silk, hanging upside down from a tree. The mother tarantula and all of its babies were climbing the trunk towards me, clicking and humming. It was one of those dreams where you realize that you're dreaming, but no matter how hard you try, you can't force yourself to move or to wake up. (Note: being awake and not being able to move is frequently a sign of alien abduction. Not that I'm saying that's what happened, or anything. But it's something to think about.)
And ever since that day, I would really prefer that large, hairy spiders stay far, far away from me.
Cute little friendly spiders, however, are more than welcome to stop by and say hello.