Beetles, slugs, spiders with white abdomens, pharaoh ants, wasps, pholcus phalangioides, bumble bees, and centipedes yet to reach 100. "Lake, fetch me the salt!" Salt, she questioned. Do you want to watch the slugs wither with me? "Err, no." I think she didn't hear the question. Slugs scarcely the size of my fingernail, which are hardly feminine or acrylic, since I've had to cut them to avoid crescent impressions in my palms, and the latter, because I'm not a neurotic buffoon. We do animalistic things for attention. Today, a man with a Yankee tattoo on his right bicep swelled his chest and physically gloated like a peacock. His sister and father were in the wine shop while I waited for my mum to get lettuce and chicken. She had said to me before going in, "You should shave your armpits before wearing muscle man shirts." A muscle man shirt is a positive variation of the name "wife beater", which Tim said, "Most men that wear them and call them 'wife beaters' probably will go on to beat their wives, so it's an appropriate name." The name pharaoh ant is felicitous, as well. Yellow ants, like the desert, of uncertain origins, like the worker men of the pyramids, tramping around in colossal amounts doing chores without end for gods without voices, under men with heavy feet. The weeds in the garden by the kitchen are racking, and I'm clearing it so I can fill it with German irises for my father. He wants to paint them. This means I must kill the insects.