Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I am very, very high on cold medicine today--that'll teach me to forget my hat, walking to work in the snow--and have spent a significant portion of the afternoon thinking about Coconut crabs, an arthropod that can get to be half as big as I am and would think nothing of crushing my skull like a coconut.

The part that has me all distracted today is that some people call them robber crabs because they like to steal shiny things out of houses and tents, and what sort of lunatic would go camping when there are huge claws all over the place? In a house, if you hear there are crabs in the neighborhood, you can just shut the door. And I keep getting a little distracted by imagining what it would be like to be laying in your tent after swimming all day in the ocean off of a tropical island, just lazing drowsy in your sleeping bag and planning a full day of pina coladas when you wake up sometime in the early afternoon, when all of a sudden there's the sound of claws snicking through the tent fabric. Which would, of course, alarm you, and you would jump to your feet, smacking your head on the top of the tent pole, imagining guerillas with machetes. Only instead, it's a giant hermit crab, and it is coming for your watch.

Which is enough to strengthen my vow to never go camping again. Coconut crabs can't use doorknobs, can they?

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