Bugs

Monday afternoon one of these guys was walking across my hotel parking lot. Normally, seeing a bug would not merit a post, but the Carolina Green June Beetle is truly freaking massive. I mean two-hands-to-pick-up-but-holy-crap-why-would-you-do-that massive. And it was moving towards my car.
So I moved my car.
This brought up a question specific to this species but asked as recently as yesterday about the more common, regular-sized June Beetle.
Why are there June Bugs? What purpose could they possible serve?
I suspect that the fear of getting one tangled in one's hair might provide a boost to our flagging salon industry, but surely nature has a mid-year niche that needs filling.
Wikipedia says the grubs eat grass roots all winter before emerging in the spring as beetles which eat leaves, bark and organic material of an undisclosed nature. These insects are generally killed by bug zappers (while people watch and drink Pabst Blue Ribbon), house cats (over a period of several days per beetle), or by special flies which lay eggs on their backs (while the beetles are in flight) which hatch and then eat the June Beetles alive from the inside. Given the choice, I'd just keep eating grass roots.
The Green June Beetle has much the same life cycle, except that they are freaking huge. The family also includes a type of beetle called a "cockchafer", which thankfully does not well tolerate air pollution of any kind. Keep driving, America. No matter the cost.
I thought my encounters with the rougher side of Carolina wildlife were at an end until I got to work this morning.
You know those little shifty jumping spiders? One was on my Ctrl key.
How can I possibly log in to a Windows machine with a spider on my Ctrl key?
Resisting the urge to smash the keyboard into tiny bits with my flatscreen monitor, I just turned around and went downstairs for coffee. The spider was gone by the time I'd stalled for about 45 minutes down there by slowly stirring my Splenda.
At least, I hope he is gone.
If I see him again I'm putting in a move request and getting a fresh cubicle.
In other news, my new work cellphone may need a new number, since the Lexington Public Library is pretty certain I have three overdue books from there and they keep calling me and yelling through some robotic auto-dialer.
I'd call and talk to a person, but what if the titles are embarrassing and they choose to not believe me? What if it is Dean Koontz novels or something? I'd never be able to show my face in there. Not that I ever have before. Or even know where it is, really.