Not so crabbit now!

or a Man o' War.

a scorpion ?

hahaha omg genius!

Pettytyrant101 wrote:or a Man o' War.

but they might need a hug the most. come here Watson! <3 (although... i might have made a paradox now..)

that owl looks like pigwidgeon

I know, all of a sudden I want one.

...And I will continue to want one until I actually get a tiny owl and it starts shitting everywhere.

i'll get an owl and name it after Ron's owl that never made it into the movies.

But would you call it Pigwidgeon or just Pig?

yepp

where are those two reprobates Petty and Orwell?

I don't know, but it's been uncomfortably quiet around here this past week.

Mmmmmm, its NOTICEABLY quiet

'cept for the tongue trilling.

The dogs of doom are howling more!

azriel wrote:a scorpion ?

I had a pet scorpion once. Quite a story, maybe I'll tell it when I'm in the mood.

Ally wrote:The dogs of doom are howling more!

Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war.

Best line ever from Shakespeare.

"I had a pet scorpion once. Quite a story, maybe I'll tell it when I'm in the mood."
Well you better Halfy ! You cant go around saying youve got a pet like that & then not say anything !!!! Im intrigued now !! darn you !

Okay, I've had din-din so am ready to settle in for a tale.

I spent a couple years teaching high school in a small town in Sierra Leone. My house had a cement floor, which for some reason was set a few inches lower than the porch level. You'd think all kinds of things would fall in there, but as I was to find only scorpions were clumsy enough to get stuck.

The west african scorpions are the size of crawfish: black, with coarse hairs sticking out. Utterly terrifying, really. But you normally didn't see them because they were nocturnal. The first one I saw was when I got up all bleary eyed to go to school, picked up up my shoes, and saw him there all curled up underneath covered in dust bunnies. Did I mention their terrifying aspect? Fortunately I was too sleepy to totally process the thing, just stared down at it dumbly, then decided I'd simply have to deal with it later when I was more awake - pulled on my shoes and went off to school.

When I came back hours later it was still laying there all covered in dust bunnies. Never having seen such a think in reality, I was fascinated. I took my machete and poked it, and it twitched languidly. I had to have it. I pulled out a plastic wash basin, improvised a ramp going up it, and with the tip of my machete poked and prodded it up the ramp to fall off into the wash basin. During the process of course his claws and his sting came up, and once he fell in he prowled around angrily, but couldn't get out. He was mine.

I named him Heraclitus and fed him on a diet of cockroaches that I would halfway smash so they could still crawl around painfully but could not ascend the vertical wall of the washbasin. Heraclitus would grab them with both claws, then feed them into his mouth like a conveyer belt, chewing all the while.

I kept him by the window, and he'd wake up at night. The washbasin was translucent, and as the moonlight came through I'd often see his sillouette, tail pressed against the bottom and claws waving in the air as he tried to climb the smooth sides to escape. It gave me nightmares, and at times I'd open my eyes to see him coming towards me - claws out and sting up and curled stiffly in readiness. I'd sit up in panic only to realize it was too dark to see anything, it was only a dream.

There was only so many nightmares I could take, but I had an option. Down the road about 20 miles were two ex-pat friends of mine, Lief and Marsha. Lief had constructed a terrarium and filled it with lizards and such - his birthday party was coming up and clearly he needed a scorpion to complete his collection. With the help of a student I stuffed an enraged Heraclitus in a glass jar and set off for the party. When I proudly presented Heraclitus Lief was delighted; Marsha considerably less so.

But then Marsha started having the same nightmares I used to have, so a few weeks later back came Heraclitus in his jar. This was something of a conundrum, so I sort of 'accidentally' screwed the lid of the jar on real tight and left him. A week later I noticed the jar, picked it up, looked at the body inside, and shook the jar. On small leg weakly twitched and lay still again. That broke my heart, so I gave him some air, and late that night as a light drizzle fell, I walked a quarter mile down the road and let him go.

After that my house had an endless run of scorpions. I'd discover them laying in a pile of dust bunnies, but I had used up my attachment on Heraclitus and had no mercy on these new ones. For a while I smashed them with the machete, but their black guts would come streaming out, and it was sticky and disgusting to clean up. Then I took to tapping them gently but repeatedly to give them a bloodless death, but this was tedious and they'd often wake up partway through the operation and that was unpleasant.

So on a trip to the larger town a few hours away I picked up some roach spray, which I thought would do the trick magnificently. I contentedly sprayed it on my next sleeping victim in the kitchen, then went to lay down and read a book. About half an hour later I was wandering back out of the bedroom when I saw a black streak to racing through the kitchen. I cautiously poked my head in to see the scorpion to screaming across the floor, claws snapping and tail erect, smash into the wall, spin around and take off again. Clearly roach spray just made scorpions high, and a tripping scorpion is nothing to trifle with. I balled up a sheet of paper and tossed it out. He went right for it. To say I was taken aback would be an understatement: the kitchen was the only exit from the house. As I watched he sensed me and came and stood a few feet in front of the door, twitching expectantly. It was clear that scorpion eyesight was not too sharp, but he knew I was there. Fortunately for me the machete was leaning against the doorjam, or things would have gone rather rocky for me. I leaped over him (not unlike bilbo jumping gollum) grabbing the machete as I went. Spun around and nailed him.

That was the worst one. Another unsettling moment was when I was chasing one across the kitchen with the trusty machete, and saw it climbing the door jam. I used to think I was safe in bed because they couldn't climb, but that little fantasy evaporated right there, leaving me with several more nights of nightmares.

I don't know how many I killed over my two years there: I lost count at 14 but know I had 20 at least. Despite the entertainment value I grew to dislike them intensely. I had a nasty shock about 10 years ago when for the first time I had a complete lobster served to me, no preparation except for boiling. As I looked at it I realized that except for the sting, it was an exact, finely detailed replica of a scorpion. I didn't eat lobster for 2 years.

Ally wrote:The dogs of doom are howling more!

Awesome new avatar.

I tried reading that, Halfwise, but I'm terrified of bugs and other creepy crawly things with too many legs so I ended up skimming most of it.

What about an Octopus ?

Octopuses are okay since they're not bug-like. I guess I'm better with lots of tentacles than lots of legs.

{{{I look forward to this being quoted out of context. }}}

Halfy, that was,by far, the most awsome yet beautifully told tale Ive read !! Sheer poetry, I could sense the bond you built up between you & your new "object of desire". The over coming of your loathing & fear of this little crustation like creature, slowly developing an admiration, then distrust,horror & back again to loathing! What is the moral of this story I wonder ? I know one thing...you were a hell of a lot braver than me !! thats for sure ! I would have been out of there like a rat down a drain !

Apologies for my recent absence- it is not by choice.
Unfortunately life has cottoned on to the fact I am down on my luck and so has in typical fashion opted to put the boot in whilst it can.

At this point I may have an enforced internet absence but I wont know for sure until later today or possibly tomorrow.
Whatever happens I plan on being very very crabbit about it until I can get back to you guys. (If I can be suitably crabbit I might be able to save things yet! )
And worse comes to worse I will still try to get on a few times a week to keep an eye on you all.