Beware the Ghost Slug

You'll love this.

I promise.

Featured Creature: It's Good to be Confused

Yes, that is correct. Forget everything you've heard about confusion being a negative trait. It's not.

Not if you're a confused flour beetle.

That's right: the confused flour beetle. She's one of the most common insects in pantries and supermarkets all across the United States, yet hardly anyone knows her name. No wonder all of her family is confused. You'd be having an identity crisis too.

For you bug-squeamish humans, fear not.  The confused flour beetle really is a person, just like you. She and her friends enjoy munching on some cereal in the morning, maybe some crackers and fresh fruit throughout the day, and even some chocolate to share with her favorite he-beetle. Don't worry, mom, the CFB gets her protein from good old beans and nuts, so just think of her as a well-rounded critter who helps keep your groceries company and helps you - albeit very slowly - clean up some of those pantry spills. Since CFBs only eat cracked and powdered grains, beans, and other kernels, you don't have to worry about sharing your whole supper, so why not just make friends and get along? Okay, so some people think they have a bit of an odor, but really, sometimes, don't you stink just a little bit too?

Let's show some love to the confused.

Dogs = Germs

Dear slug,

You seem to know some obscure childhood songs, like that Mister Fly thing you posted a while back. I remember one from when I was a kid about an invisible dog. Can you help me find the lyrics to that one?

~Clueless in Colo.

Dear Clueless & Co.,

While it isn't much to go on, I believe I know the song you mean: Germs, the invisible dog by Dottie Rambo.  Unlike the Mr. Fly song, which I believe is timeless, I'm afraid Germs lives better in memory than reality.  You can check out the lyrics here, but I have to say that I don't recall the verse about church. Perhaps it's just because slugs don't have such things.

Slughugs,

~A nameless slug in the Pacific Northwest

Call of the Wild

Dear Readers,

I do apologize for missing last Friday's Featured Creature post, but I'm afraid I was on the run.  You see, all of the denizens of the dirt, along with several among the creatures that prowl the open areas of the Earth and those who prefer the sky, they all are clamoring for attention.  It's almost like being stampeded by kindergartners, what with all the cries of "Me! Me! Pick me!" for the next feature.  Fear not, however. I will begin again shortly, once the uproar settles in. But for now, I can hear them approaching, and I must do my best to do what no slug was ever meant to do: run.

~A nameless slug in the Pacific Northwest

Bellyfeet Don't Squeak

Dear slug,

My shoes squeak when I walk. I hate it. How can I make it stop?

~Perplexed in Annapolis

Dear Perlexpolis,

Being a member of a historically unshod species, I'm flattered - and a little perplexed myself - that you asked me this. I can't answer from personal experience, but I talked to an ant who knew a butterfly who was chased by a dog who knew a human who once said that baby powder or petroleum oil could be used. Both sound a little messy to me, and both require first figuring out exactly which part of the shoe is squeaking so the substance can be applied. This assumes that the squeak comes from two materials rubbing together. If the squeak of the sole against the floor is the problem, you can try powdering the bottom of the shoe - just becareful when walking on slick floors.

You can try these methods, but I make no guarantees. If you try my own special home remedy, however, I am sure you will have success:

Go barefoot.

Slughugs,

~A nameless slug in the Pacific Northwest

No Ransom Necessary

My dearest readers,

I apologize profusely for being gone so long. The aliens who kidnapped me were very strict about their computer access policy while we were in near enough orbit to hook into Earth's blogosphere. As it turns out, these particular aliens have decided that they would rather not take over planet Earth just yet. They found that the majority of the population had brains that were tainted by so-called "reality" TV, and were therefore unsuitable for invasion. I admit I find this odd, because I would think that minds so enthralled by such pursuits would be easily overtaken. In truth, the Titans assured me that they could take over such minds, they just found it distasteful to play puppet masters after a non-sentient entity had already taken control.

Now if we can just be as successful with the aliens who attack humans for their laundry quarters, we'll be in fine shape.

Letter from a slug

Dear Blog,

I have been kidnapped by aliens from Titan, one of Saturn's moons. They want to know how to reproduce hermaphroditically instead of via full mitosis so their next attempt to enslave humanity will result in a hybrid race of superbeings all controlled by a central mind.

Be back soon. Either Friday or next week.

Slughugs and Slime,

~A nameless slug in the Pacific Northwest.