I don’t want to be the asshole around here. I really don’t.
…
But, you play the personality you’re dealt.
So in the spirit of anal retention, let’s all remember that spiders aren’t insects, MMM-KAY?
That’s all! I’ll be in the comment box, waiting to be beaten with a stick.

There be spiders.

Let us begin the week with a specimen of the Ornithoptera Priamus Aureus, or the Jaded Merryboil, principally found in Alpine regions and certain suburbs of Swindon.

I must say I was impressed by how neatly this little blighter was pinned to its board. The butterfly had clearly been stuck by someone who knew their pinning inside out, and I was inspired to say a few words on this subset of skills to lepidoptery, before elaborating on a more alarming association with today’s specimen, namely the Staphylococcus aureus bacteria, cause of folliculitis, boils, scalded skin syndrome, impetigo, toxic shock syndrome, cellulitis, and other unpleasantries.
If you’re serious about taking up lepidoptery, and I’m sure some of you are, you will need to furnish yourself with the following basic entomology spreading equipment:
A set of stainless steel insect pins – to make sure the little buggers don’t fly away.
A pack of identification labels – for making up fanciful names for your specimens in order to impress your friends who will very quickly know less about the subject than you.
Glue boards – a white bristol board for mounting small specimens.
Spreading boards – for setting out the wings of your butterflies until they are dry at a comfortable 5 degree inclination (Ha! – try and fly away now!)
Various needles, forceps, scalpels, scissors and syringes. – these should also be mounted alongside the butterflies, as they look rather impressive. My favorite is the Dumont number 5 stainless steel forceps.
For catching them all you need is a net and a can of Raid. There is no specific variety of Raid for killing butterflies, but the Moth blend is sure to work well enough, and failing that, if the cockroach poison works on those little bastards, then I’m quite certain your Imperial Azure won’t last long after a blast or two.
That’s it – you’re now fully equipped with your lepidoptery essentials, but you might also want to bring a hip flask.
But back to today’s specimen. If you’re out catching butterflies, please make sure that you avoid this one at all costs. There is no proven connection between the Ornithoptera Priamus Aureus and the Staphylococcus aureus bacteria, but I wouldn’t want to take any chances.
Doesn’t she look nice though? Doesn’t she?

I live in a townhouse in a row of townhouses facing another row of townhouses. Between the two rows is a stretch of grass, spotted here and there with trees and shrubbery, and a pathway leading in and out.
One day this spring I arrived home to find a family clustered around the near end of the pathway, looking and pointing at the overhang of a tree above. “Look,” they said to me, “a beehive.”
I looked up into the branches directly over us. I first saw a honeycomb, off-white and oblong and about six inches wide by nine inches long. Then I noticed the dark blob next to it. The hive must have been at least a foot in length. Bees covered its surface and buzzed about it in their buzzy frenzies. Fascinating, that never once had I encountered a bee on the path, despite the proximity of the traffic to their home. Respectful fellows, I thought.
After that, I made it habit to glance up at the beehive anytime I was near. But a week later, I looked up and saw only destruction. Someone had lain waste to the home of the bees. The honeycomb had split open, revealing the hectagonal artwork within, and only fragments of the hive remained in the tree.
A quick look about me found the bulk of the hive in a shrub alongside the pathway, along with the rest of the ruined honeycomb. It wasn’t a hive anymore, so much as a lump of hive pieces. It was dripping with what I could only assume was water from a powerful hose commissioned for use by the homeowners’ association.
There were dozens if not hundreds of bees laying black and silent and dead in the bushes with the remains of their home. Still now it looks like a mass graveyard, a killing field.

I hate spiders. Largely because they are evil like fu…. breath in breath out … calm.
That and because I am arachnophobic. Badly.
I once woke up to find a spider the size of my hand on the wall above my bed. And that was just the body. With the legs it was much bigger. I went and woke my dad up, told him to deal with it. He rolled up a mat and hit it and then sprayed it with killer death insect spray and then threw it outside. I still slept in a different room that night.
I was 17.
I hate spiders.
Now I’m off to Alcatraz. I’ll let you know if their are any spiders.
[Update] – I couldn’t get to Alcatraz. I suspect these means the spiders know I’m onto them. I’ll try again tomorrow.
[Update2] – I got to “The Rock ” in the end. No spiders that I could see (brilliant got to live islands) but I did get sunburnt. I am going to blame the spiders for that.