Yes, my slugs have been at it again and so this time I filmed some of them getting down with it and dancing till the break of dawn. This shall be the last time and I will not tolerate such liberal, fun acts again. Slugs are here to work, slime kitchens, make cups of herbal tea, praise me, listen to my prose and burgle shopping centres. And yet, here they are - as captured on film - dancing to a version of Misirlou by the Black-Eyed Peas. Disgraceful behaviour.
I'm often asked about my musical tastes and what, if any, preferences I have in regards to listening to music when putting quill to paper. Normally, a group of slugs will gather on my desk and play an assortment of instruments ranging from guitar, bass, double bass, cello, lead guitar, violin, piano, rhythm guitar, acoustic guitar and drums. Sometimes it's a jam, a slug jam (I once tried slug jam. Spread it on some toast. I wouldn't recommend it) and other times they rock out some quality tunes.
So proficient are they that not only have they become exceedingly good and been described as The Beatles of the slug world but they've been requested numerous times to appear on VH1 and MTV. They always decline to go as I've told them that my desk is the only stage they'll ever be performing on and that my ears and eyes are the sole organs worthy enough to experience their music. If they were to moonlight and appear on those music channels then they've been warned that the next thing they'll be appearing on is a slice of toast, spread evenly over it.
In Maputo I am known for my love of tinned tuna.