The Dobsonfly

Aside from some interesting correspondence shared with a new spider-friend across the pond, I didn't get much feedback following my last post (Woodlouse Hunter). Otherwise, no comments, no calls, just one email basically saying: less scary spiders, more kitty-cats. Thanks, Mom...

While I won't be taking this suggestion, per se, I'm sure that the cats will reappear in these posts soon enough. However, this suggestion has made me feel encouraged to do something that I had some notional intention of doing when I first started this blog. That is, to temper the posts about scary, mean danger-bugs with posts about happy nice-time-bugs - this includes avoiding consecutive posts about spiders. This is somewhat unfortunate, as I have good pictures of several different spiders, as well as collateral written for these posts. Listen to me - "collateral?" I've been listening to too many of my wife's work stories! Side note: is it inappropriate to refer to a communications professional as a commie? So, as my new spider-posts policy goes into effect, my writhing jar of spiders (with that lid that just won't stay on) will just have to sit teetering over my wife's side of the bed for a little longer.

So this post is about a super-nice bug: the Dobsonfly! Dobsonflies and I are double-best-friends. Many people don't realize that, although modern glitter is synthetic, the glitter and sparkles of yester-year was actually farted out by Dobsonflies. Further, as they fly, the flutter of their wings makes the sound of patriotic songs - reminiscent of a time when everyone in America was super nice to each other and everybody got along really well!

While some entomologists have questioned the super-true facts stated in the previous paragraph, there are aspects of their lives that everyone agrees on. One of them being that they are one of a large number of insects that live most of their lives under water, after which, they have a brief adult-hood (when we typically encounter them) on land - just long enough to show off a little bit and make some descendants.

Allow me to tell the Dobsonfly's story by relating it to another story...The year is 2006 - winter-time. Twitter is still in development and NASA's Mars Reconnaisance Orbiter is braking into the correct orbit. But there's one thing everyone is talking about this winter: Last Holiday, starring Queen Latifah. She plays a spend-thrift with a forgettable existence, and can barely work up the courage to interact with the love of her life, LL Cool J, who plays some sort of a food preparation specialist. Each day of her life is like the one that preceded it until she bumps her head and goes to the doctor. Following a brief checkup, the doctor gives her some troubling news: she has just a couple of weeks to live! Upon receiving this news, she packs her things and takes her dream vacation - apparently, her lifelong dream was to go snowboarding in the Czech Republic (it offends me that the writers went with such a stereotype - not all African Americans are obsessed with Eastern European snow-sports!). While on her last holiday, she spreads her wings, takes risks, and shows the world what she can do!

Although this cinematic masterpiece grossed a whopping 38 mega-dollars (meaning that it only lost, by today's standards, a modest fortune - barely enough for an entire family to live off the interest from, forever), this is, in actuality, several times the median annual earnings of Eastern Dobsonflies in the mid-Atlantic region (dobsonflies are freaking-broke!).

I am a hellgrammite, courtesy of Texas A&M. I actually
only have six legs - most of those swimmies are actually
gill covers. Also, I got these sweet henna-tattoos in
Galveston, during beach week!

Dobsonflies start their lives as eggs laid on vegetation overhanging water. Once hatched, they spend several years as completely-aquatic hellgrammites (fancy name for Dobsonfly larvae). Much like Her Majesty's character in Last Holiday, they mostly live under rocks eating other aquatic insect larvae. This soggy existence will persist for several years - unless some angler or fish (but probably not an angler fish) discovers them and turns them into a fish meal (which I imagine is quite a bit more satisfying for the fish than those little fishfood flakes (unless the hellgrammite was on the end of a hook (which, in the long run, would probably end up being worse for the fish (additional, unnecessary, parenthetical sub-thought))). BTW, one researcher says that hellgrammites in captivity will eat these fishfood flakes.

Once a hellgrammite larva is ready to pupate into an adult Dobsonfly, it comes out onto land, spends a few weeks underground, and emerges as an adult to great fanfare (certainly putting my Quinceanera to shame - thanks, Mom...). At this point, the adult Dobsonfly has approximately one week to live (typically a few days more for females, and a few days less for males) before going off to insect heaven (which is better than it sounds). Alternatively, bad Dobsonflies go to...oh, never mind. That one's too easy...

So imagine that you just became an adult and you found out you have one week to live. What would you spend that week doing? Probably you would spend it trying to hook up with someone.

I'm (wingsuit-skydiving) learning to fly like a freshly matriculated dobsonfly........

...........And I'm learning to breathe air like a freshly devastated rapper/actress/model.

Look at us! We're like the Patty Duke Show!

Identical cousins! They laugh, alike; they walk, alike - sometimes they
even talk alike!

Male Eastern Dobsonfly,
courtesy of UFL Entomology
dept.

As it turns out, the priorities of adult dobsonflies diverge a bit from HRH Dana Owens. The plot of Last Holiday is pretty chaste and, while the main character spends a lot of time eating, adult dobsonflies don't eat at all!

The lovely female in the picture above (you're gorgeous QL, but I'm talking about the Dobsonfly) will spend her nights seeking out the male with the largest mandibles and her days recuperating from partying and hopefully a one-night-stand with one of these guys on the right...

Despite their intimidating appearance, male Dobsonflies are harmless. Their crazy-long jaws don't get much leverage, and they're not as sharp as they look. From what I've read, it seems like they're only used in mating - presumably to hold on to a wily female (how very 50 Shades), although this has been contested. I only met the female and I haven't come across any pictures of this. But frankly, I'm comfortable with a little bit of mystery here. I have also read that males will use their mandibles to joust with each other. If this is the case, then I hope they have better control of their stupid ostriches than NES gave you, especially around all that lava! (This is a reference to an old and frustrating video game - if you're not familiar with it, it's probably not worth looking up.)

Speaking of when I met this female (still talking about the bug, QL), we actually crossed paths outside of a hospital. It was fairly early in the morning, near the Potomac River, and I assume that she had come the night before because of all of the bright lights (and thumping music - Northern VA's #1 party hospital!). My wife and I were there to get a sonogram of our larva (I do plan on spending the next 18 years trying to turn him into a bug).

My boyfriend may be harmless, but
don't mess with me! I can do some
damage with these jaws!

As my pregnant, exhausted wife was making her way back to the car (she didn't want to stick around) I was waylaid, taking (unfortunately sub-par) pics with my cell phone. When I got close to her, she made this threatening gesture (raising her head and spreading her jaws). Males will also do this, but this could be considered an example of one's mouth writing a check that cannot be cashed. I've also read that Dobsonflies are able to produce a smelly spray as a last defense against predators and bad dancers. I neither harassed her enough, nor Macarena'd vigorously enough, to gain any first-hand experience with this.

Another interesting thing about the Eastern Dobsonfly is that their hellgrammites all tend to leave the water at about the same time. With such a short life as adults, this is not surprising. One researcher stated that people living along Virginia rivers (whoot! whoot!) report that hellgrammite exoduses (these are also known as "hellgrammite crawling") are triggered by thunderstorms. It was suggested that the vibrations from the thunder spur them out of the water. Personally, I'm pretty dubious about this. Maybe I'll read the whole report one day...

I've seen a few different claims of the exact number of Dobsonfly species - the number tends to be around 30, with a few species as yet unnamed. Most of these are native to South America, though. In the US, there are said to be only four species, with three of those being confined to the west. So, along with this big-fine woman (still about the Dobsonfly) backing it up into a nice resemblance to the Eastern Dobsonfly, it would be pretty unlikely that she was anything else. Therefore, I confidently dub thee: Corydalus cornutus, the Eastern Dobsonfly.

While Dobsonfly adults live ephemeral lives, much like in Last Holiday, their singular focus allows them to get what they came for with fewer conflicts of interest than a celebrity spokesperson for Jenny Craig and Pizza Hut. As someone with their fingers in many sinister soups (what? "easily distracted" would have sufficed), I almost envy the singular purpose of their being. But, contrary to Mama's advice in a famous Lynard Skynard song, simple lives are quickly forgotten.

Peace & bacon grease! Out!

Now I'm standing in the kitchen, carving up the chicken for dinner. And in storms my husband Wilbrin in a jealous rage. "You been screwin' the milkman!" ... Then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times.
 - Dana Elaine Owens

Woodlouse Hunter

Good news everyone! My blog has gone global! It's recently been viewed from the UK (home of the 2012 Summer Olympics), Germany (home of Olympic Games, past), and Russia (home of a future Winter Olympics...also, I hate the Winter Olympics). Given this deluge of world-wide media attention, I feel that I have no choice but to give the foreign web-indexer robots what they want: more cat-themed posts!

This post is about a spider (be forewarned). But it also gives an interesting look at sibling dynamics. Also: yes, we do refer to our three cats as sisters. Although they are all different breeds (none of them are pure-bred, so "breed" seems a little strong, but "cat-type" doesn't really have the same oomph), they don't seem to resent this too much.

The last post involved our cat who we'll continue to refer to as P - she refused to sign the release and insists that she wants nothing to do with all this inter-what's-it ballyhoo. Out of respect to her, I'll continue to preserve her anonymity. But she's not really involved in this post. This story is about Coco and Molly.

Coco signed the release form without even reading it (disconcerting). But she'll basically sign anything I put in front of her (she didn't understand why the Human Cent-iPad episode of South Park was funny).

Molly was a tougher nut to crack, but we struck a bargain - she got to watch me play with a ping-pong ball. Now she'll play with ping-pong balls if she's by herself - but if I come to watch her, she insists on watching me. I used to think that maybe she just wanted me to have a turn, but I now believe that she's just interested in all my fancy ping-pong ball rolling tricks. Namely, I put English on it so that it rolls back to me, curves around, or makes sharp turns when it bumps something.

As a side note, I bought Molly's current pack of ping-pong balls at the Sheetz station on Rte. 29 in Ruckersville, VA. I had recently stepped on her old ping-pong ball by accident, so when I stopped for gas on the way back from a visit to Charlottesville in the spring and spotted these by the cash register, I thought of her. But the point of this side note is that I was carded for the ping-pong balls! When the cashier asked for my ID, she said it was because I was "getting that game." I thought about returning the compliment and telling her that I thought she had game, as well...But I knew what she meant. Random thought: could I have made grain alcohol from the white-cheese popcorn I was also getting?

Anyway, to the spiders! So the other weekend, I heard Molly crying (meowl-ing) from the basement. Sometimes this means she wants me to come clean her litter box, other times this means that I'm not paying enough attention to her and we're in different parts of the house. When I went downstairs (like a chump), Molly was waiting for me at the bottom of the steps and Coco was near the opposite corner trying to look casual. Molly led me over to Coco and, while I was distributing pettings, Coco tried to play it up as though she had just then noticed the mature, male Woodlouse Hunter right in front of her. 

Let me break this down for you. What happened here is that Coco was just handling her business - doing cat stuff, being too curious (consider reviewing some advice on curiosity in the previous post, BugsIRL: Classic - Cicada Killer), and maybe getting into just enough trouble to keep her day interesting. Molly, either because of feeling left out of the game, or because of general younger-sibling anxiety, decided to blow up Coco's spot and come tattle on her. Meowl! Meowl! Dad! Meowl! Dad! Dad!!! So, Dad came to see what all the fuss was (and probably tell someone to stop slamming the screen door) and ended up ruining all the good-natured fun. Can anyone detect a bias in this retelling that might hint at my birth-order?

Normally, I'd try to safely put him outside. But with Coco already making her plans for him, I moved to get the closest thing to kill him with. As I moved back towards him, I watched Coco playfully bat at him. Thankfully, his response was to curl up. However, if he had reared back and shown his fangs, I'm sure I would have been able to see them clearly from where I was standing.

So I did, unfortunately, kill that spider. But, in the interest of blogging, I've since gone out and captured a male and a female. Now, all you lucky bastiges (Johnny Dangerously! Anyone? Anyone? Nope? OK.) get to enjoy some up-close views without the horror of handling these monsters!

People tell me that I wear my heart on my sleeve, but
they're mistaken. As you can clearly see, it's close to the
surface along the middle of my abdomen. With some of the
major blood vessels also visible, it kind of makes a lightning
bolt pattern. Also, don't mind that splotch on my right
side...I ran into a slug while evading capture.

If you're like me, you'll find it hard to look away from this picture. If you're like my wife, you may have to tape a piece of paper over part of your screen to continue reading this page. Either way, you're probably hungry for more info on this spider!

The Woodlouse Hunter is so named because of its primary prey: woodlice. This is the grown-up name for roly-polys. They can spin silk, but they don't use it to catch prey. They creep around, under stuff and through mulch or leaf litter, actively hunting for potato bugs, pill bugs, sow bugs, as well as other, more obscure names for roly-polys. They are also said to occasionally prey on some beetles. But as the main beetles they're likely to share their environment with (at least in the mid-Atlantic) are stag beetles, which could easily out run them, I'd imagine that this isn't the norm.

Separate beds - just like Lucy &
Ricky! "You know, all the really
smart people are sleeping in separate
beds" - the slutty one from
Downton Abbey.

Although they don't use silk for hunting, they do spin themselves lovely bed chambers under stuff. In the picture at right, you can see two compact sleeping units that were nestled cozily under my favorite piece of lawn cardboard. Woodlouse Hunters are mostly nocturnal, so they were of course thrilled when I lifted up their roof in the middle of the afternoon. The two that made these elliptical, silken retreats scurried off quickly, so I don't know what their situation was. But I imagine they had an Ernie & Bert style will-they/won't-they thing going on.

Aside from their unique coloration and only having six eyes (most spiders have eight), the Woodlouse Hunter's most distinguishing feature is its enormous fangs. These are needed to pierce the thick, hard shell of balled-up, terrestrial isopods (there will be a quiz at the end). Since the two spiders that I caught were either constantly moving or constantly hiding (constantly), I wasn't able to get many pics of their fangs. If these pics I took (below) inspire you though, I'd encourage you to do some Googlin' - some of the pics out there can look pretty threatening (more on this, below).

More of a trophy than a meal.

THREAT DISPLAY!

I need some me-time.

 


As dangerous as their fangs make them look, I did not find this spider to be quick to use them (neither did Coco, praise Neptune). My theory on why this would be is basically that their size adds significant liability to their use. Consider the following. Imagine that you're a little boy (I know this just got creepy, but stay with me here). Little boys are always making swords or other weapons out of random things they find. In my case, I usually had a huge armory well stocked with sticks. I would swing these sticks around, hit stuff with them, and hopefully only break my sabers, katanas, and machetes. But I could afford to break these swords, which often started out so long that they were unwieldy, because there were always more sticks. This is not the case for the Woodlouse Hunter. A spider's fangs do not grow back, if broken. Further, I'm lucky in this analogy in that I could have chosen plenty of other implements to swing at all the ninjas, goblins, koopas, and trees that had looked at me the wrong way that I was constantly battling with (constantly) - I never had to rely on a particular stick as the only means that I would ever have of subduing and digesting food. So, while it did take some prodding to get the female in the pic above to make the threat display shown, I never got the impression that she intended to follow through. After looking online for other peoples' experiences, it seems like my observation is the typical one. I did find a paper with the results of eight confirmed bites (on eight different people). The theme was swelling, itching, and slight pain that went away after an hour. There were also some non-confirmed bites that raised some concern over the toxicity of this spider's venom.

I'd also like to relay an interesting anecdote about the female pictured above with the moth. I was going to have to keep her for a few days, so I put that moth in her container as a feeder bug. After it flapped around a bunch, she killed it. I don't think she injected any venom, because she never tried to eat it. I think that the moth was just annoying her! The next day, as I was taking pictures, she would occasionally give it a quick, dry bite. Then she would typically pick it up and try to hide under it.

So in terms of identification, these spiders are pretty easy. Dysdera crocata is the only species in this family believed to live in the Eastern US. I've read that there's another, nearly indistinguishable species that's been found far from human habitations in other parts of North America. But I think I can be reasonably confident that these are D. crocata. The thing about spiders though, is that they're excellent hitch-hikers. In fact, this spider, which is common throughout much of the world, is originally native to Europe. Related thought: so my wife and I went with my brother in law to the National Museum of the American Indian, last weekend - none of the exhibits specifically addressed whether they're ever surprised to lift up junk in their back yards and find people of European descent living beneath. That was an insensitive joke, Brian...Also a little bit meandering.

Well, here we are...I would love to write more and put up more of my pictures, but this entry has gotten pretty long and the pics I've already put up are probably weighing down the page. I have about 60 other pics of these two spiders. Way too many to put here. So I'm considering starting starting a flickr or Picasa account to link from here. I could post my pictures, add some bitty captions, and my many fans would be able to peruse them at their leisure, again and again. Yeah. Maybe I'll do that.

Wrapping up old business, the emoticon I posted last week: ))<>((
is from the 2005 movie You And Me And Everyone We Know. It denotes the totally possible act of "pooping back and forth." As the keyboardsman explains, this is where one party poops into the butt of another party. Then, the second party poops it back into the butt of the first party. He goes on to explain that this could continue indefinitely - specifically, forever. Despite this hopeless romantic's lack of regard for the long-term integrity of a typical fecal mass, his description leads an otherwise minor female character to make some pretty questionable choices. Overall, I give the film a solid C. This one memorable and amusing gem can be viewed on YouTube (if you don't feel like you just saw the whole scene). I'm not sure if any of the available clips include the twist near the end of the movie, though.

Thank you all for reading. Please post comments or send questions to whodatbug@gmail.com. Until next time, I leave you with this parting thought.

I'm pimping where I'm winning - that's just how I'm chilling. I'm smoking grits & selling chickens; corvette painted lemons.
 - Radric Davis (AKA, Gucci Mane), 2009

Robber Fly - Hanging Thief

"Don't you put me on that internet!"

Thanks for coming to my blizzog! This post is about one of my cats warding off a dangerous thief (sort of), so hopefully lots of unwitting Googlers will end up here!

Recently, my wife saw one of our cats standing at the back window, looking out onto our deck and pawing at the glass.

Since this obstinate feline flat-out refused to sign the release, I'll attempt to maintain her anonymity by referring to her as P.

When my wife went over to see what all the hubbub was, she spotted the creeper pictured below - most likely "casing the joint."

"Get that camera away from me - I've
already got two strikes!"

My wife snapped this pic with her BlockBerry. This charming lady, who's probably making mental notes of where I keep all my best stuff, is a Robber Fly. I can't confidently identify the exact species from this picture. But I am fairly confident that she's from the genus Diogmites.

Robber Flies of this genus are commonly called Hanging Thieves. This adorable name comes from the  interesting way that they often end up eating their prey. Not to send people away from my site, but if you image search this genus, you'll see some cool pics her and her kin holding and eating bugs twice their size while they hang onto a plant or stem with only one leg! Some of those pics may give the impression that they hunt by grabbing other bugs as they fly by, and stop them by holding on to perch and prey. This is not the case, though. They catch their prey (often bees, wasps, flies, dragonflies, or other robber flies) in mid-air, then they fly to a perch that they choose to dangle from. Does this seem a little dumb to anyone else? Unless doing this gives them some significant advantage in say, fleeing from bigger predators who see their catch, it seems like they're just showing off. And no one likes a show-off. Not cool, robber flies.

Now it's easy for me to act all tough and totally like whatever from the safety of the interwebs, but robber flies are not to be trifled with. Although I'm proud of P for being brave, I'd prefer that she not go nose to rostrum with one sans-glass. They can inflict a nasty bite, if handled (they don't hunt people...yet). Although they do not sting, their bite is more like a sting, than your typical bite. They use a bristly, stabbing proboscis to inject digestive juices and a paralyzing toxin (probably won't paralyze you, unless you're another insect).

By the size of her abdomen, this Hanging Thief looks like she's got some eggs to lay (do these shoes make me look fat?). She'll lay her eggs in the ground, using dexterous digging tools at the tip of her abdomen - Go, Go Gadget Ovipositor! Once they hatch, the larvae will prey on other insect larvae (larvae-on-larvae crime). In a post on NormanLavers.net, Norman makes a comment about robber fly mating that I think we can all relate to.
Diogmites mate tail to tail, as do most of the more "primitive" robber fly species (many of the more "modern" species mate facing the same direction, with the male above the female - generally holding her by the eyeballs).
Thanks for that tidbit, Norman!

Regarding doing it Diogmites-style (just coined, boo-yah!), I'm offering extra-special props to any movie-buffs who can identify this emoticon: ))<>((
Leave your guesses in the comments. If no one gets the answer, I'll explain it in a future post.

Also, P is doing fine. My wife says that, following the whole robber fly incident, she walked to the middle of the room and slept in the sun for a while (P did, not my wife...but I wasn't there to confirm).

Reputation for tasting. I'm killin' 'em hoes like Jason.
 - Dwayne Carter Jr. (Petite Wayne), 2012

Bugs In Real Life: Classic - Cicada Killer

A long time ago (~6 months), in a land far away (about 4 hours, if you hit traffic right) a dear dear friend of mine told me that every summer their neighborhood becomes festooned with giant hornets...Well, she didn't say "festooned", but the retelling sounds better that way. Actually, I'm not sure that really makes sense...looks like dictionary.com defines the verb festoon as reproducing the natural gum patterns around a tooth or denture. This was a reeeeeeeally long time ago (~6 months), but I'm pretty sure that my friend was trying to describe these bugs' abundance, rather than their involvement in oral prostheses...

Anyway, I asked her to send me a pic once they were around again and I'd see what I could tell her.

This first pic, at right, shows a live one on her front stoop. For sizing comparison, the unidentified article in the northeast quadrant is approximately the width across of your typical sidewalk bird poop.

Coenwulf, King of Mercia, had the right idea by
nonchalantly ignoring the giant, him-sized wasp
by his face. The other two on the silver drachm
are attempting an advanced technique, but their
form is off...this will not end well.

This second pic, below, shows a less live one after it met the business end of a spray can of wasp killer. The sender did not detail whether spraying caused the leg to come off. For helpful sizing comparison, I digitally added these familiar coins during post-processing.







The "giant hornets" that my friends in Virginia Beach are sharing their yard with are not actually hornets. They're actually a type of wasp. Both pictures are of a male Eastern Cicada Killer, or Sphecius speciosus. Although they are also sometimes called Sand Hornets, and (at least, to me) the females bear some resemblance to hornets, this name is a misnomer.

Like any good friend would, I recommended that they get a lot closer to take more pictures the next time they saw one. The second pic was sent after an altercation went south - my friend apparently exclaimed "them bees is crazy!" Despite their size and lack of fear of people, they're fairly harmless and usually just curious. This is especially true of the males, who are known for investigating just about anything that passes close enough to them. The males are not territorial towards humans and they don't even have a stinger. The males do have a sharp spine at the tip of their abdomen, though (totally not a stinger). As a side note, my friend confirmed for me that this Cicada Killer was, in fact, very "curious." He then reminded me that, where he is from, "curiosity gets you killed." I think that adds a nice layer of authenticity to this pic.

The larger female, whose body and face look, to me, quite a bit more like a hornet's or yellow jacket's, are able to sting. But their sting is considered fairly innocuous. Also, like many wasps, they do have strong jaws that can (but typically don't) bite. So I guess they're not completely harmless, but they're typically only known to sting humans when handled roughly or running for political office.

As adults, they eat nectar and sap. The females will capture and paralyze cicadas (hence their name), but this is to feed their young when they hatch. The males may appear to be hunting other bugs, but they're really just checking things out.

They don't live in colonies, but it's typical to see multiple burrows close together. This has to do with soil and drainage or the presence of an especially dominant male - not an underground super-hive of buzzing terror.

That's all for this post. I'm not entirely sure how to end one of these, so I guess I'll just encourage anyone reading to subscribe, comment, recommend, like, etc. Regarding comments, I'm probably only going to approve ones that I deem worthy of being part of this esteemed forum. On the other hand, I likes me some clevers - so if you have something clever to say, I may approve the comment, even if it's not that relevant. So...

"Grind on the pony, girl, show him how you ride it"
-B. Knowles, 2012

The Origin Story...

What causes a man to write a blog?

What twisted sequence of events leads to posting e-diaries among the seedy inter-webs?

These questions are constantly on all of our minds...gnawing at us. For me, it started as a series of benign emails among friends. At first, they were simple pictures and a few laughs - no big deal. But my emails to these supposed friends kept getting longer and more involved. The pictures began taking on a life of their own - their numbers spinning out of control. Then came the videos.

From that point, it wasn't long until my wife stepped in. <sound of thunder crashing!> She planted the seed. The seed that grew into...I don't know...one of those upside down trees, or something! Also, it's a gnarly, unattractive mess. Sure, it would be easy enough to trim and prune. But who wants to give up a whole Saturday on that? Anyway, this ugly tree...or maybe it should be a maple. One of those sugar maples with all the whirlie-doodle seed pods. Did you ever take a pair of those and make them into a mustache, as a kid?

Anyway, this delightful sugar maple grew into an idea (the most dangerous plant of them all)! An idea to write a blog about bugs <queue shocking music...you know, like the sound an orchestra makes when it's surprised>! Also, that's what those emails were about.

So, the way this works is that I'll be posting about bugs that I happen upon in my real life (hence the "IRL" in the blog's title). I'll take pictures, if I'm able, and I'll identify them and profile them to the best of my ability. Regarding my ability, I am not a bug professional. Although I am a professional scientician, I've never formally studied bugs or biology. I would describe myself as an entomological/arachnological amateur-expert. I'll typically do some research when profiling a bug, but these posts won't be peer reviewed and they should only be considered to be as authoritative as you're willing trust some rando with a blog. I typically won't cite my sources, but anyone is welcome to inquire by email or in the comments as to where I got some info - don't be disappointed though, if I tell you that a datum just came from the vast compendium of bug knowledge I've amassed over the years (though that answer will probably sound less arrogant in practice).

Additionally, if you have a bug you'd like me to identify or you have questions about, email me an ask at whodatbug@gmail.com. Please send me your pics and some background: where it was, when it was, what it was (doing), etc. I'll endeavor to get back to you ASAP, and I may even use it as part of a future post!

XOXO,
Brian