Few creatures on this planet reach the evolutionary stage that the Glasbloe has attained. Whilst most of us lumber along in a kind of controlled falling, where we fall forward only to be saved by the second foot contacting the ground before we topple, the Glasbloe has conquered gravity. Indeed, he would be the paradigm to which most corporations lately bent on efficiency would supplicate on their knees. When the Glasbloe goes to buy shoes, he needs but one. His podiatrist can only charge for the one foot, and when he ages to the point where replacement joints are necessary, the Glasbloe has a reduced parts count, which should simplify matters.
Simplify, that is, were it not for friction. Sadly, evolution has no brains, and in optimizing the Glasbloe for gravity-conquering and overall engineering efficiency, friction remains the one natural force to be reckoned with. That said, you can well imagine that the remainder of the Glasbloe consists of systems and internals designed to somehow reduce friction, by transforming whatever enters the Glasbloe's mouth into vast quantities of lubricant.
Indeed, the Glasbloe's prodigious production of lubricant poses a significant social problem. As with most slimy biological products, the lubricant decomposes fairly quickly in open air, the result of the action of E. Coli and Heliobacter Pylori, if not Pseudomonas Aruginosa. Common pathogenic bacteria found in most other living mammals. Tragically, the odor is quite pungent, and quite soon to come on. An odor rather like the Cleveland Regional Transit bus stations the night after a good freeze. Or Leidekranz cheese. Or hydrogen sulfide. Always pleasant and smiling, the Glasbloe is almost singularly avoided by every other creature in 'Llome, and when he is absent, they all paranoically design methods to entrap or remove him later if he should appear.
Gravity, being what it is, if conquered, still remains rebellious. The outcome of such a rebellion is a worst-case scenario for the Glasbloe...to be tipped over. Should this occur, the incredible pressure required to keep his roller properly lubricated would result in a noxious release of lubricant. When this happens, it is indeed front-page news in 'Llome! The hapless Glasbloe must be righted, and a special emergency squad armed with hoses and cleaning substances must be summoned.
To illustrate the Glasbloe's locomotion, please view the following animation (which, since it is at the bottom of this page, should have appeared by the time you get this far in the text)