This seems like something obvious that I should really know, but I worry that I'm forgetting something.

Squids, octopuses, and cuttlefish all squirt ink. (Nautilus, the throwback cephalopod, does not.) The sea hare, a particularly large instantiation of sea slugs, also squirts ink.

Does any other animal in the whole world produce ink?

Bombardier beetles spray aerosolized toxins. Texas horned lizards shoot blood out of their eyes.

But I think cephalopods and sea hares are the only inkers!

So my friend's setting up her wireless network and asks me about names, and I randomly spout off the phrase "unicorn tentacles". Cause that's a great name for a wireless network.

Then I started wondering if it might be a googlewhack. Of course, knowing the internet, that possibility shouldn't have even crossed my mind. Netfolk are way too obsessed with these kinds of things. (Links go to unicorn stuff, but you can find your own tentacles.)

Today's Ecoview column in the Tuscaloosa News addresses this question:

Q: Can you tell me what a group of squid is called? A squad? A school? I’ve tried to look it up, but I haven’t seen anything definite that says, “A group of squid is called ... ” I would really like to know.

A: As you are no doubt aware, a collective noun is a word that describes a group of things. And collective nouns for animals are an exercise in creativity, from a shrewdness of apes to a pod of baby alligators, a murder of crows to an exaltation of larks and a scold of jays. I believe the most common word to describe a cohesive group of squid is “shoal.”

Humboldt squid are apparently still swarming off the coast of northern California, according to this account from Marin:

The fishing began roughly 30 miles from shore when captain Rick Powers killed the motor and told his 28 clients to drop their lines to the bottom, a full 600 feet below, where a mass of pulp loomed on the fish finder screen: Humboldt squid by the thousands. These animals, which grow as large as 50 pounds in just one year of life, don't fuss or finick when two dozen lures appear before them out of the blue. Constantly ravenous, these animals eat first, ask questions later, and 100 fathoms up nearly every person onboard the Angler hooked up instantly.

Today, I learned from the Wall Street Journal that "frying cuttlefish" is Cantonese slang for being fired. As a result, cuttlefish fishing trips are deliberately misnamed squid fishing trips, to avoid the negative associations of losing one's job. Fabulous!

This might beat "flat out like a lizard drinking" as my favorite zoological slang.

On that note, happy turkey day! I'm thankful for the Internet, and yes, I said that at the dinner table.