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Ye olde english earthworm has long been a favourite of anglers and the latest in fast food for the New Zealand Flatworm, recently arrived on these shores. Anyone down there in good old NZ who would be prepared to come and get his flatworms back would be highly welcome. I enjoy your lamb and butter, but can't stomach your worms at all. Now digging in the garden has never been my favourite pastime, and as a method of collecting worms cannot be recommended. Far easier is to go out and catch them while they are occupied otherwise. On a wet warm night, there is only one thing on a juicy worm's mind. SEX! Now humans add makeup, dye their hair blonde and drive flash cars in an attempt to attract the opposite (usually) sex. Worms have bigger problems: they can't drive and are allergic to lipstick for a start. Being hermaphrodite by nature, ie having both sex organs in one body doesn't help much either. And imagine a gay or lesbian worm, or a worm playing with itself and all sorts of sticky possibilities contaminate the mind. What about a transexual worm? It could hardly complain it was locked up by a cruel freak of nature in a body of the wrong sex. (no offense meant here to any G or L readers, just my weird imagination having a quick freak out). Anyway anglers call these worms lobworms, they are about six to eight inches long, when fully extended, and they improve their sexual chances by thinking in two dimensions rather than three. They emerge 8/10ths from their burrows and, lying on the ground, grope around for their nearest neighbour. Early birds tend to get the worm, which having spotted a particularly attractive little wriggler just out of his and her reach, has left the burrow completely, and following an ecstatic two worm orgy (I did once see a cyclic threesome) has got lost and failed to return to his burrow before daybreak.


Of more danger to the worm has been the angler, a few of whom, hating gardening, have, since neolithic times, stalked them armed only with a plastic bucket and a flashlight with a red filter. Worms are less sensitive to red, than to white light. (stay with me kid, this will do wonders for your education) Sneaking up on the worm, the angler grasps the worm around the body near where its tail enters the burrow.The worm, thinking it has been grasped by some nymphomanic partner tenses its whole body, gripping the sides of the hole firmly. By applying a light steady pull, the worm eventually releases, and is drawn back out of the hole and dropped in the bucket of worms, where it thinks it has gone to some sort of wriggly sex maniacs heaven, although not one has ever shown appropriate gratitude. All this is harder than it looks, grab the wrong end of the worm, easy to do at midnight in a dim red light, and it disappears down its hole at an astonishing rate of knots. Pull too hard, before it releases, and you increase the world worm population by one. Light footfalls are required, for vibration has the worms rushing back into their holes.The word snitching was coined years ago for the process, I snitch, you snitch, he snitches.....the verb conjugates fully, but has probably not yet reached the Oxford English Dictionary, whose compilers undoubtedly lead more sheltered lives. Policemen are the major hazard to snitchers (noun: those engaged in snitching), as are nosy residents, who think that anyone sneaking around quietly in the park at the back of their house, shining a red torch on the ground can only be up to mischief.


So I got arrested,and was asked to accompany the officers down to the police station. I retaliated and complained that the police car with its lights and siren was scaring the worms, as well as awakening that lousy nosy resident in the nearby house, but my complaints were in vain, and the disbelieving stares from the coppers told me I was in trouble. If you ever get arrested at midnight, just try telling the copper you are just collecting worms, and you will see the sort of problems I had before they released me! What's the charge officer? Worm rustling? Snitching with intent?



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