Every time I eat lettuce from my garden I give it a cursory check for wee beasties (I am a vegetarian after all) uuurp… gah… this brings to mind a horror trash novel I read as a teen called (i think) Slugs! amongst all the slugs eating people horror some bloke ate a bit of slug in his chopped lettuce and had some sort of giant parasite eat its way out of one of his eyeballs via his brain
Slugs are the holders of my “Least Useful Creature In The Known Universe” title.
I mean, wtf is the point of them? What do they do apart from [DEL]swarm[/DEL] ooze from wherever they live everytime it has rained, and wander aimlessly beneath bicycle wheels and pedestrians feet?
They say everything is part of the food chain, but apart from that idiot in the OP, I don’t know anything that eats slugs. I once watched a hedgehog walk past 10 big, fat ones and start chewing on a bottle top.
When I wrote about eating snails from my garden, I had quite a few people contact me to ask about slugs, but I understand they’re pretty horrible - lacking a shell for defence, they compensate with copious slime and bitter-tasting secretions.
Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall experimentally ate them prepared in a number of different ways on one of his River Cottage shows, with the most palatable presentation being some sort of fried thing made from potatoes, flour, onions and sligs - the people who tasted it said it was reasonably pleasant, but would be improved by simply leaving out the slugs.
I’m not in any kind of hurry to replicate or extend his experimental work.
I wonder what kind of cool diseases you could get by eating the giant black slugs they have in Scotland (my rental car was nearly eaten by some when I was stopped by the roadside with what I believe the locals call a “tyre puncture”).
I used to work with a guy who, when he was a kid, made salt mazes for slugs. He also used to mic up nitro glycerine and freeze vials into ice cubes and space them out on a street on a hot Summer’s day.
Kyla, omg. Now I’m even more jealous of you than I already was. I tried to convince my husband to move out to the West Coast so I, too, could be a Banana Slug, but he stubbornly insisted he has to finish his degree here in Jersey.
Raccoons do, for one. Sometimes in the early morning I see them out on the lawn darting from place to place, grabbing a slug, hauling it over somewhere there’s dirt, rolling it in the dirt, and then chowing down. Presumably they roll them in the dirt to counteract the slime.
I am trying very hard, but I do not think I can imagine a single circumstance in which an idea concluding with these words could possibly be false.