Metro passes along this beauty of an installment in our ongoing series When Octopi Of Various Kinds Attack. Yes indeedy, we here on the soggy left coast of the continent sure know how to welcome tourists.
By strangling them with our tentacles.
I saw a strand of red kelp drifting by. I noticed a line of white suckers running along it. Next something heavy dumped on my head. Another tentacle with delicate suckers curled in from below and pulled my mask away from my face, flooding it. I felt other tentacles squeeze the right side of my face and pull on my hood. I’d last seen my dive buddy peering into a crevice — he didn’t appear, although I turned around a couple times hoping he might take a photo. I tried to brush the octopus off my head, but he squeezed all the tighter…
The thing I like about this post most, though, is the way the diver doesn’t seem to think the attack by a Giant Pacific Octopus merits its own blog post, or really anything more vivid than a simple “and then it did this and then I did that and it let me live and then I went back down [ed. note: WHA????] and took some more pictures and they turned out well and…” The man clearly has icewater in his veins, so he should fit right in around these parts.
You just know that tattoo is going to be all over the Drive in about three weeks!
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