This deserves its own entry...

Damn yo, this is a wicked long and creepy post...

Giant Bug

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Reply to: xxx
Date: 2008-03-05, 2:49PM PST

ORIGINAL POST:

Found this guy in the yard today. He's HUGE. I have no idea what he is, but he has big mean chompers in the front and a butt that looks like it could sting a horse. I just as well put him in my neighbors yard before my dog eats him, but then again he might just crawl back, so if anyone wants a giant pet bug, you can have him. I figure he might be a cool pet, or maybe someone needs a giant bug for their school science project. He might be some rare tropical creature that somehow made it here in a shipping container coming from Thailand, and he secretly holds the cure to cancer. He could be in everyone's yard too though, I don't know much about giant bugs. Either way, he'll be chilling in a plastic humus container until this evening. I'd love to find him a home far from here, but if nobody wants him by tonight, he's going in the neighbors yard.

FOLLOW UP:

After a few dozen responses, it looks like the overwhelming consensus says Mr. Bug is a Jerusalem Cricket, also known as the common Potato bug, Earth Baby, Nino de la Tierra (thats spanish for Nino of the Tierra), and my favorite, "Old bald-headed Man." Thank you all for educating me on my local bug trivia, I received some pretty entertaining responses. One guy wanted to come get him to replace his deceased scorpion, giving Mr. Bug a full terrarium all to himself, but then I was informed that he'd die if I didn't let him go bury himself in the dirt again. So unfortunately for scorpion guy, Mr. Bug went in the church garden across the street. Perhaps he will say a prayer for your fallen friend.

Of all the many responses, this one was by far the most entertaining (although I don't condone bug mutilation):

My suggestion to you: Destroy it.

I've found the best way is to flatten them, separate the bug into pieces, flatten each piece, then bury the pieces separately as far away from each other as possible.

Do not touch the bug, they bite.

Perhaps a little background as to why I hate these so vehemently; About twenty years ago, when I was a young boy of seven-going-on-eight, I had my first real experience with said bugs. My cousins and I had caught a couple of baby lizards on a hike in the local riverbed. These we placed in an empty pickle jar, dutifully poking holes in the lid to allow air to ventilate, and laying a thin layer of sand for the lizards to crawl on. On our way home, we caught one of these bugs, a rather large one, thought it cool, and placed it in the jar with the lizards. Being young and innocent, we left the jar on a table in my house, nearby where my uncle was napping, whilst we attended to other matters of interest.

My uncle recounted the aweful crunching that woke him, a sound he could identify but not locate.

Upon investigation, we noticed our jar of pets now only contained one very fat bug, and two severed lizard tails. There was no way the lizards could have escaped; as young boys, we were versed in the ways of effective lizard captivity.

As a means to justify our horror, and hopefully quell any nightmares that might arise, we decided to kill the offending insect. This proved much more difficult than one might have guessed; We first flattened it with a shovel, thinking that should have firmly executed the creature. When the shovel was raised, the bug was crawling away from the scene, still very alive. My cousins and I panicked, gathered rocks, bricks, and any other heavy, handy object, and dealt the creature's sentence.

On another occasion, two or three years afterwards, I rolled over in my sleep one night only to find my pillow had acquired a hard, knobby feel. Still mostly asleep, I attempted to fluff my pillow back into its usual softness, only to find my pillow had grown feelers and attempted to escape me. Opening my eyes, one of the very same Potato Bugs stared me in the face not an inch away from my mouth. Needless to say, I screamed for my father, who rushed into the room, noted the bug, and rushed right back out. He returned with a hammer, which he first used ot fling the bug from my bed, then struck repeated, lethal, blows to the offender. The death of this bug required more than ten solid hits with a claw hammer.

Another occasion happened when I was quite older.

At twenty years old, I worked as a Technician in a call center which happened to have me on an early schedule, with an added half hour commute to work. One morning, crawling out of bed at four a.m. to prepare for my drive, I tried to pull on a pair of pants, and lo-and-behold, out with my foot appears the biggest yet of any of the bugs I'd encountered. Needless to say, this one also required extermination to appease the feeling of filth acquired from the invasion of my personal space. I first stomped the bug flat, then carried it outside, poured lighter fluid on it, and tossed it, along with a lit match, into my bar-b-que. I watched for several minutes, until I was sure the bug had blackened enough, and was no longer moving. That afternoon, returning from work, I noted that the bug was missing from my bar-b, and found tracks on the ground leading away from the grill.

I've had other, similarly horrid encounters with these insects, but I think my point is clear:

Destroy it!

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I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight...