In the corridor that leads to the stairs to my flat there is what can only be described as a slug graveyard. I've been baffled as to why the nasty creatures continue to slither through this portal, only to make it half way and shrivel up. Or not shrivel up, in the case of the little bastard who adhered to the sole of my shell-toe today. Ick!

When I lived in Leamington Spa, the local slugs used my house as a conduit from one obviously fantastic slug party to another. Stepping on a big, live, yellow one in bare feet is not an experience I want to go through again.