When I was very little, I used to ride a BBW.
It not only revved with a thrillingly powerful murmur, but picked up crumbs as we cruised.
The most terrible aspect of growing up is that I can longer feel the buzz of my BBW, nor the freedom to eat with no thought given to that frowning fun spoiler, lady-likeness. The highway is no longer the byway with me on a BBW, due to that old wowser, gravity.
I came upon another BBW as I was strolling on the beach yesterday. Known as the Botany
Bay Weevil or
Chrysolopus spectabilis, this is my favourite species of
weevil, and one that is a perfect victim of my intrusive urge to
immortalise it with portraits. Get a load of that crumb picker-upper.
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