I just went out for my last fag of the night and saw a slug on the ground.
I put salt on it.
Now I feel incredibly guilty.
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The daily adventures of a fabulous poof in an emotional jungle. Watch as imagination, fact and fiction blur into an insane life dependent on outrageousness and an occasional venomous jibe.
7 comments:
He was a good slug. He slimed the garden regularly in its sluggy fashion, munching the leaves of the petunias and leaving snot trails in his wake. You could always see where he had been by the glistening paths on the sidewalk, shimmering in the sunlight.
Oh garden slug! You shall be sorely missed. Now that you've bubbled and burbled to your end while covered in the crystalline grains of death, we shall mourn you.
Farewell, dear slug.
Fare well.
That was magical, Michèle, magical.
if you want them to die happy fill a saucer with beer. they'll crawl in, get drunk, and drown.
michele... I hate snottery, wishy-washy sentiments but I thought your comment was excellent.... more please!
Does it have to be real ale?
I don't think so. If I WERE a beer drinker I doubt I'd waste on slugs. Since I'm American I prefer to shoot them with guns guns guns guns guns guns!!! LOL
It's ok, as long as it's a spud gun.
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