I got some crickets today, and it’s clear that that’s what black widows prefer to eat. Here’s the view one minute after tossing a cricket into their lair.
Yes, I have a skull in the container. For drama.
It was a quick death. The cricket bumbled about, bumping into the thicket of silk strands throughout the space, and the spider scuttled down, gave it one quick bite, and the battle was over. The spider is near the top center of the photo, with the motionless belly of the dead cricket below it, in the jungle of moss. It tried to hide, a futile effort given the tangle of silk everywhere and the potency of the venom.
Conclusion: We need to improve the lethality of crickets. Acid for blood?
Shhhh! Weyland-Yutani is listening!
Legit losing my 💩 at the 💀. 🤣
I guess crickets have their place in the natural world and I shouldn’t be gleeful over their demise but I hate them. For years, they would find their way into my house and then, at night, they’d start their chirping which would drive me crazy. They’re brilliant ventriloquists so looking for them was an exercise in futility. So to black widow spiders everywhere, I say, you go, girl!
Insta-doom seems preferable to looming doom. But then, I’m not a cricket.
@4: Meh, the chirping doesn’t bother me. Now, roaches are things that must be destroyed on sight because they are disgusting.
It’s OK. Both spiders and crickets are aetheists. They know there’s no heaven.