I Have An Unsuspecting Slug Snoozing On A Piece Of Firewood ..

That I just brought in form outside.

*cackles madly with hand wringing*

;-)

I hear that the slug is mother nature's moisture meter! ;-P If there's one on the split, it's still too wet to burn!

Ha !

It's toast. Ever step on one on your bare feet?? >:-(

Toast, I say !!

Snap.Crackle.POP!

Open a can of beer and drink most of it. Leave about an inch on the bottom and put it out by your wood pile (or garden). Next morning, go out to get the can. It will have several slugs in it.

Wait... no use wasting beer, even a little on the bottom....

OK... Open a can of Natty Light. Pour most of it on the ground. Leave an inch on the bottom and put it out by your wood pile (or garden). Next morning, go out to get the can. It will have an inch of Natty light in it, but nothing else.

Damn... even slugs won't touch the stuff. ;-P

Just burn 'em, Eileen.
We used to give the boy a salt shaker and a flashlight to dispatch the little buggers.

How do you know if it's snoozing or if it's at a dead run? It is a slug after all...

I was under the impression that you didn't like it either. I seem to remember a pic posted by you showing a 12-pack about to be torched in your stove...

I have an unsuspecting Slug
on some disputed firewood split
whose Carcass will explode and spit
some Natty Light into the air.
I have an unsuspecting Slug--
snoozing, running--I don't care.

It may be I shall take my hand,
Toss him him in the stove and
squint my eyes and hold my breath
And watch until the thing explodes.

I have an unsuspecting slug.
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
The slug will likely not be here.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in punk and scented bark,
Where girl slugs throb in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...

But I've an unsuspecting slug.
This morning in my flaming stove,
When next I open up the door
And I to my pledged word am true,
My little slug shall be no more.

Alright! That there just cracked me up!!

Worst experience ever, they always go up between your toes and just die in a heap of slime.

I say instant cremation is the way to go ;-)

escargot? Haha. Burn baby burn .

Wow, POET LORIAT or however you spell that really good poet title....LAUREATE maybe?

A little butter and some garlic and the problem is solved! :lol:

Gary

Not to worry, the cremation service was performed just after 10 last night. Murph's my witness

How about a story instead? This was written by Alan Seeger. 1888–1916, who died as he predicted in the following poem, in battle. Interesting aside, his brother was the father of Pete Seeger. I did not begin to do the rhyme scheme justice, but it came bubbling up, so I wrote it down. Here's the amazing original (John F. Kennedy's favorite poem, ironic that, who died 48 years ago today).


"I Have a Rendezvous with Death"

I HAVE a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death 5
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still. 10
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep 15
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...
But I've a rendezvous with Death 20
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Snow, you're making me think, and that's a good thing

Thanks for sharing that.

to which we hear a faint, sluggy voice comment: "Yeah, finally. Fat lot of good that does me now . . . " :lol:

"Drawing on my fine command of the English language, I said nothing." Robert Benchley

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjWYhXrC0-c

Reminds me of this. I use this when I teach WW1 to my us history class.

It's not a slug, but a snail I made out of cherry burl that was destined to be firewood. I won't burn it though ...

Do not burn that.

This is me partaking of "free range escargot", otherwise referred to as "chewy-salty-peppery", on a 5 day hike in the GSMNP...