Summary

The website content humorously explores the dynamics of various beetle species' interactions, with a focus on the negative perception of weevils.

Abstract

The narrative titled "Don’t Be Weevil" uses anthropomorphic storytelling to delve into the social and personal lives of different beetles. It portrays the dung beetle in a marital dispute over sharing food, the bombardier beetle in a defensive chemical spray battle, a ladybug's date night dissatisfaction, an asparagus beetle's family dinner conversation, a Japanese beetle's dining complaint, a damsel bug's frustration over a broken sink, a Hercules beetle's regret over his strength, a spider beetle's therapeutic revelation, and a collective of weevils grappling with their species' reputation. The story culminates with the weevils' decision to rebrand themselves as "wegoods" to combat their negative image.

Opinions

The dung beetle's wife is portrayed as unyielding and skeptical of her husband's fidelity.
Bombardier beetles are depicted as fiercely combative and unafraid to engage in conflict.
The ladybug expresses frustration with the male beetle's lack of punctuality and effort, implying a critique of gender expectations in courtship.
Asparagus beetles are shown to be particular about their diet, adhering strictly to their species' typical food source.
The Japanese beetle's dissatisfaction with the sashimi suggests a high standard for quality, even among beetles.
The Hercules beetle's reflection on his own strength conveys a sense of regret for not choosing a more suitable career path.
The spider beetle's therapy session indicates a struggle with internal conflict but also a sense of identity and self-acceptance.
The weevils' self-reflection and eventual rebranding demonstrate a collective desire to overcome their negative reputation and assert a positive self-image.

Don’t Be Weevil

The bug in the system.

Beetles. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Coleoptera_SMNK.jpg

“Come on, don’t be weevil!” said the dung beetle to his wife, when she wouldn’t share her scrumptious piece of dung.

“You ain’t getting nothing!” she shouted angrily.

Her husband cringed — he absolutely hated double negatives. But now was not the time for that.

“For the millionth time, we were just shooting the shit. Nothing happened! I swear!” He cried.

But his wife was having none of it — she just gave him The Look.

And he got no dung.

Dung beetle. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Scarabaeus_viettei_01.jpg

“Take that, you evil son of a weevil!” cried the bombardier beetle as she ejected a hot noxious chemical spray for which her kind were known.

“Who you callin’ son of a weevil, bitch!” cried her opponent, incensed. She sprayed back with her own putrid aerosol.

It went on like that for quite a while, until the two ran out of gas and weevil expletives.

Bombardier beetle. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Brachinus_spPCCA20060328-2821B.jpg

“You look lovely, ma chérie,” said the bug as he sat down nonchalantly at the table.

“Don’t you ma-chérie me,” replied the ladybug, clearly peeved. “You’re late. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour, all by myself! What, you think after two dates you can stop making an effort?”

The handsome bug knew when to chirp — and when not to. Clearly, this was a not-to situation.

So he shut up.

“You males are all alike,” mumbled the ladybug, and added quietly in a most unladylike manner, “Fucking weevils.”

Ladybird, ladybug, lady beetle. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Coccinella-septempunctata-15-fws.jpg

“Mom, can I have broccoli today?” asked the little insect.

“Are you out of you’re mind!” cried his mother. “What are we? Go on, tell me!”

The little insect lowered his head. “We’re asparagus beetles.”

“Exactly!” replied momma. “Meaning, we eat…”

“Asparagus…” mumbled the little insect.

“Precisely!”, cried momma triumphantly. “Pfft. Broccoli. Like we’re some kind of weevils.” She rubbed her forelegs (which the pesky cognoscenti call prothoracic legs) and made a chirping sound that is too rude to repeat here.

Asparagus beetle. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Crioceris_asparagi.jpg

“Waiter! Oh waiter! This sashimi is not fit for weevils!”, shouted the Japanese beetle in a perfect mix both of anger and disgust.

“I shall replace it at once, monsieur!”, said the waiter reverently and emphatically. Reverently — because he was French, and emphatically — because this was, after all, a starred establishment!

The Japanese beetle seemed mollified.

Japanese beetle. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Popillia_japonica.jpg

“You broke it!” cried the damsel bug in anguish, looking at the broken, leaky kitchen sink, which — up until a few seconds ago — had just been a leaky sink.

As in, not broken.

Damn, thought the Hercules beetle, this always happens to me. I’m too fucking strong for my own good! I should have become a masseur, like granny always said.

“Please just leave,” said the owner of the broken sink. “What a weevil job.”

The Hercules beetle picked up his tools and quietly left the premises.

In tears.

Hercules beetle. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dynastes_hercules_ecuatorianus_MHNT.jpg

“I think we made a breakthrough at the end of our last session,” said the therapist.

“We did?” asked the bug, hopefully.

“Definitely,” said the therapist. “There is a battle raging within you, between the two very powerful elements of your psyche. Today, we shall explore this further.”

The spider beetle smiled, and said, “At least I’m not a weevil.”

“Indeed,” agreed the therapist.

Spider beetle. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Niptus.hololeucus.jpg

The weevils were not happy.

Not happy at all.

They had all assembled to figure out — once and for all — why weevils were hated so.

Weevil. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Weevil_September_2008-1.jpg

They did the beetle thing and shouted all at once. (Which is fine, beetles ain’t humans — they have tons of attention span.)

“Our skin?”

“Our color?”

“Our chirping?”

“Our accent?”

“Our smell?”

“Our clothes?”

They continued shouting all kinds of dung like that, until one intelligent weevil yelled: “Enough! We ain’t dung beetles!”

Silence ensued.

Reflection followed.

Finally, one very young — but very brave (or very foolish) — weevil, climbed onto a branch (did I mention they were in a forest?) and shouted: “You’re all a bunch of idiots! They hate us cause we’re evil! Says so in the name: WE EVIL!”

There was an uproar that lasted all night (did I mention the meeting took place at night?). Finally they all agreed the little bugger was right.

So they decided to change their name.

The young weevil’s suggestion — wefuckingawesome — was rejected without prejudice.

And that’s how we came to have wegoods.