Snake or Worm? Can You Tell by the Smell?

I’m just asking because I have a little wager going on with Billy and Chris. If I lose, I’ll have to give them more DUM DUM Pops (courtesy of Kit and Jerry). If I win, well, I’ll get the satisfaction of being right about something here in the Wild Kingdom of Texas. I’m sure they’ll get all the Pops they want either way. It’d just be a moral victory for me.

This is definitely an audience participation post.


Here’s how it went. The guys came in for their new tour around 1 am.

Chris is the Worm on the bottom of the Underdogs post.

Billy is a character.

They got in pretty late but still were feeling lively.

Billy said: “You’ve got yourself a little snake there.”

Because if it was Billy, I thought he was kidding, but no, I did have myself a little something.

It looked like a skinny night-crawler, moved like a snake and smelled like rotten eggs, or worse. Since I was in the process of writing the Underdogs post about Worms when they pulled up, I thought it would be a good idea to take a picture of it.

It wasn’t. I caught it, twice.

Of course it was squirmy and I didn’t have my camera so I had to bring it inside, where, I’m not kidding, it made the whole room smell like rotten eggs, or worse. I keep saying that because that’s the worst smell I can think of at the moment and it smelled worse.

It’s actually amazing anything that small, 10-12 inches, could smell that awful! I had to wash my hand about 11 times to get the scent off.

Anyway, I got the camera, took the slithery thing back outside, took pictures and watched him slink away to live to grow bigger another day. With no visible sign of a mouth, it sure looked like a worm to me. The guys still maintained that it was a snake. (I do think they were slightly impressed that I picked it up. ) So, here’s a picture.

What do you say, baby snake or worm? I’m thinking a worm that crawled through, or came from, something really nasty? Can Texas worms slither like lightning across a hard pack road?

I Googled Smelly Worms and Smelly Snakes.

There seem to be a wide variety of both. So cast your vote – my reputation as a worm handler is on the line.

I don’t think this looks at all like a snake. But then, I’ve never seen a newborn snake.

I have to say, though, that  in the Midwest, the worms were a lot slower.


I always liked Underdog.



I don’t know if I liked Underdog  because he was really The humble, lovable Shoeshine Boy or because he almost always spoke in rhymes like:

The secret compartment of my ring I fill, with an Underdog super energy pill.


I am a hero who never fails, I can’t be bothered with such details.

Or maybe I just like the concept. I’ve also always rooted for the underdog.

We have Underdogs here at the drill site. They’re called Worms.  All Worms are not  equal on a drill site.

For example, Bradley is Little John’s son and the group of guys he’s with have been together for a long time. They seem to have taken  him under their tattooed wings.

Bradley’s the quiet one, always smiling and texting in the back seat of the crew cab. As far as the life of a Worm on a well site goes, he probably has it better than most. He still gets the worst jobs, but the guys don’t pick on him much.

Trevor is a “city boy” straight from Dallas.

He turned 22  the same week the guys thought it was time for him to learn to skin a wild pig. This picture was taken shortly after the afore-mentioned event. He still looked a little pale, but pleased with himself.  I think it was a kind of ‘right of passage’ for him. Ron, who taught him ( this is Ron who brings me tarantulas in crock pots and snakes and kicks his scorpion filled slippers at me) said he did real good. They explained the whole process, including …  never mind, it’s not germain here and I don’t think you’d really want to know. I certainly still have a vivid mental image!

Sometimes the Worms quit, and it’s no wonder. They’re the greenest, usually the youngest, they’re the lowest on the pay scale and of course, they have to do whatever the guys tell them. It’s like being a Plebe in a Frat house except it goes on and on and on…

I was skeptical the day Chris arrived. He was so polite which I didn’t think would bode well for him. His tour was with the more ‘seasoned’ of our crews. He never complained but always looked really beat when he’d head to town (alone) after his shift. He survived the first week. I didn’t really expect to see him again, but he came back a second time and a third.

We talked a little each day. Around the end of his third tour, I asked him how it was going. He said it was getting better, they’d let him eat lunch that day (for the 1st time). He’s back again tonight, and seems more than able to take whatever the guys dish out. I’m rooting for him. He’s a true underdog!

1st Man: [at end of each show] Look, up in the sky! It’s a plane!
2nd Man: It’s a bird!
Woman: It’s a frog!
1st Man: A frog?
Underdog: Not plane nor bird nor even frog. It’s just little old me…
[sound of crash off camera]
Underdog: Heh-heh, Underdog.