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I can attest to the horrors of hippy-hoppies. I’m edging towards thirty and I still hate them. But, if you have a big brother like I do, those Indiana Jones type quests were always handled with love, comfort and support. Rock on gorjus!
we discussed this at some length this past weekend, but i have this obsession with identifying critters.
the cave cricket (or camel cricket, or camel-backed cricket, or spider cricket) is like a regular cricket but they’re uglier, crunchier, and can jump like motherfuckers.
Oh god! I was terrorized by those things my whole childhood but have never known what they’re called. We always called them tiger crickets because the ones in and around our house had light brown stripes on their backs. (Are these a different species?) I remember them jumping like 5-6 feet in the air and, as gclark attests, crunching like singed cardstock when we stepped on them (which was often). The house we moved into when I was 11 was in disrepair, and a huge utility sink downstairs was literally full of these crickets, about 1/3 dead and 2/3 alive. My skin crawled for weeks after I saw that sight, hundreds of those nasty, curved little bodies crawling and jumping over their dead brethren.
Then, a few years later, I had a dream in which I walked downstairs and opened the door where this utility sink had been (we redid the disrepaired house). On the other side of the door was a golden-retriever-sized cricket that turned its head and spoke to me in the voice of Robert Goulet. The first part of what he said, very suavely, was “Say—have you seen my…” but I don’t remember the rest. I shit thee not.
Oh jeezus, I HATE camel crickets. German cockroaches too. The councelors at a summer program I attended in Auburn many years ago kept rare insects (as pets? in cages and aquariums. There was an albino cockroach. I can’t think of anything more disgusting and odd to show kids.
this is the one. we called them “prehistoric crickets.” i don’t think they’re mean or bite or anything, but they’re so much more…hippy hoppie…than your usual dark-brown, plain ol’ cricket. i never saw one of the sumbitches until i was living in AR. saw my first one in the laundary room, and it scared the tar out of me. i hit it and its guts spewed all over the wall. i think the gutstain was still there when my parents moved out of there 20 years later.
Hell’s bells, Margaret, I forgot about this: these fuckers spew an insane amount of stain-making, foul-smelling guts. Yep, they STINK when you kill them. Maybe it’s all those animal corpses they apparently eat.
URGH!! i was just guessing at what they were, from the mists of memory—note the very detailed drawing! now i’m really worried. i’m not sure if my drawing looks enough like what it was—SKEERY.
Aww!
I especially like Pinky’s fierce face in the 4th panel.
Brothers and sisters rock!
I can attest to the horrors of hippy-hoppies. I’m edging towards thirty and I still hate them. But, if you have a big brother like I do, those Indiana Jones type quests were always handled with love, comfort and support. Rock on gorjus!
hippy hoppies:
http://www.weboflife.co.uk/weboflife/species_web/spw0006090.html
we discussed this at some length this past weekend, but i have this obsession with identifying critters.
the cave cricket (or camel cricket, or camel-backed cricket, or spider cricket) is like a regular cricket but they’re uglier, crunchier, and can jump like motherfuckers.
Oh god! I was terrorized by those things my whole childhood but have never known what they’re called. We always called them tiger crickets because the ones in and around our house had light brown stripes on their backs. (Are these a different species?) I remember them jumping like 5-6 feet in the air and, as gclark attests, crunching like singed cardstock when we stepped on them (which was often). The house we moved into when I was 11 was in disrepair, and a huge utility sink downstairs was literally full of these crickets, about 1/3 dead and 2/3 alive. My skin crawled for weeks after I saw that sight, hundreds of those nasty, curved little bodies crawling and jumping over their dead brethren.
Then, a few years later, I had a dream in which I walked downstairs and opened the door where this utility sink had been (we redid the disrepaired house). On the other side of the door was a golden-retriever-sized cricket that turned its head and spoke to me in the voice of Robert Goulet. The first part of what he said, very suavely, was “Say—have you seen my…” but I don’t remember the rest. I shit thee not.
Good god, KoE. That dream explains a lot about you.
Oh jeezus, I HATE camel crickets. German cockroaches too. The councelors at a summer program I attended in Auburn many years ago kept rare insects (as pets? in cages and aquariums. There was an albino cockroach. I can’t think of anything more disgusting and odd to show kids.
Gclark: not to be dense but I’m not sure youv’e identified
these critters as your choice appears only to live in Africa! Maybe I’m msising some joke.
i think they’re all part of the same kind of cricket. all members of the same cricket club, as it were.
check out this link:
http://www.biosurvey.ou.edu/okwild/misc/cavcrick.html
this is the one. we called them “prehistoric crickets.” i don’t think they’re mean or bite or anything, but they’re so much more…hippy hoppie…than your usual dark-brown, plain ol’ cricket. i never saw one of the sumbitches until i was living in AR. saw my first one in the laundary room, and it scared the tar out of me. i hit it and its guts spewed all over the wall. i think the gutstain was still there when my parents moved out of there 20 years later.
Hell’s bells, Margaret, I forgot about this: these fuckers spew an insane amount of stain-making, foul-smelling guts. Yep, they STINK when you kill them. Maybe it’s all those animal corpses they apparently eat.
URGH!! i was just guessing at what they were, from the mists of memory—note the very detailed drawing! now i’m really worried. i’m not sure if my drawing looks enough like what it was—SKEERY.
hey pinky!
Since Gorjus raised the issue, I originally thought we were dealing with some kind of mutant Daddy Longlegs!
I especially liked the trapeze artist grip bit.