The amazing BBW

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.