Betrisher
Well-known member
- Jun 3, 2013
- 4,253
- 177
- Parrots
- Dominic: Galah(RIP: 1981-2018); The Lovies: Four Blue Masked Lovebirds; Barney and Madge (The Beaks): Alexandrines; Miss Rosetta Stone: Little Corella
I posted this yesterday on facebook. It was written in response to a question on the university Zoology Society's page: 'Are there scorpions in Armidale?' The memory made me smile, so I thought I'd post it here in case it makes someone else smile as well. 
O yes! There are scorpions in Armidale!
When we were making our first year animal collections, my then boyfriend and I found a scorpion under a rock 'way out on the Glen Innes Road.
It was a nimble little fellow and chose to run swiftly up the stick with which the boyfriend was poking it, causing him to suddenly realise his own mortality. Quick as a wink, he flicked the scorpion willy-nilly off the stick and directly at me! I parried with my folder executing a perfect forehand volley, sending Mr Scorpion straight back to the boyfriend. Advantage receiver.
The boyfriend, seriously discombobulated, tossed everything he was holding in the air. This included an open jar of formaldehyde, with which we had intended to bathe Mr Scorpion immediately upon his capture. Of course, the gormless boyfriend sent the formaldehyde straight into his only useful eye (the other one didn't work, owing to a childhood accident).
"Oh no!" he mourned, "I'm blind! Where'sthescorpionwhere'sthescorpionwhere'sthescorpion?"
By now, of course, the poor scorpion had been done to death by the boyfriend's panicked tap-dance as he waved his arms uselessly about and picked up his feet in an attempt to avoid the scorpion walking up his leg.
It died of depression. Literally. I found its poor little carcass pressed into the ground by the boyfriend's unerring riding boot.
Not to worry, however. Everything turned out well. A bit of fuse wire in his stinger and some stuffing with cotton-wool turned Mr Scorp into a perfectly usable specimen. Not only that, but we found a nest of the little dears under the very next log we lifted up. Therefore, we each had a specimen to offer up under 'Class: Arachnida'.
Oh, and PS. No, the boyfriend was not blinded. He'd only had his eye closed and hadn't realised it.
PPS. That same year, a friend (hard-up for a good variety of specimens) handed up a rubber scorpion, mounted and labelled 'Class: Arachnida. Order: Synthoscorpiones'. She got a mark for inventiveness.
O yes! There are scorpions in Armidale!
When we were making our first year animal collections, my then boyfriend and I found a scorpion under a rock 'way out on the Glen Innes Road.
It was a nimble little fellow and chose to run swiftly up the stick with which the boyfriend was poking it, causing him to suddenly realise his own mortality. Quick as a wink, he flicked the scorpion willy-nilly off the stick and directly at me! I parried with my folder executing a perfect forehand volley, sending Mr Scorpion straight back to the boyfriend. Advantage receiver.
The boyfriend, seriously discombobulated, tossed everything he was holding in the air. This included an open jar of formaldehyde, with which we had intended to bathe Mr Scorpion immediately upon his capture. Of course, the gormless boyfriend sent the formaldehyde straight into his only useful eye (the other one didn't work, owing to a childhood accident).
"Oh no!" he mourned, "I'm blind! Where'sthescorpionwhere'sthescorpionwhere'sthescorpion?"
By now, of course, the poor scorpion had been done to death by the boyfriend's panicked tap-dance as he waved his arms uselessly about and picked up his feet in an attempt to avoid the scorpion walking up his leg.
It died of depression. Literally. I found its poor little carcass pressed into the ground by the boyfriend's unerring riding boot.
Not to worry, however. Everything turned out well. A bit of fuse wire in his stinger and some stuffing with cotton-wool turned Mr Scorp into a perfectly usable specimen. Not only that, but we found a nest of the little dears under the very next log we lifted up. Therefore, we each had a specimen to offer up under 'Class: Arachnida'.
Oh, and PS. No, the boyfriend was not blinded. He'd only had his eye closed and hadn't realised it.
PPS. That same year, a friend (hard-up for a good variety of specimens) handed up a rubber scorpion, mounted and labelled 'Class: Arachnida. Order: Synthoscorpiones'. She got a mark for inventiveness.
