Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The beetle was limping away. One of its legs was half a knot, tied-up and barely hanging together.

I could only imagine what that beetle was thinking, where it was going in such a hurry. Minutes earlier, it had been mating frantically, or as frantically as beetles could, with another beetle, assumedly the opposite sex. Or maybe the same sex but different. I don't know, biology was never one of my better subjects, and I suppose that explains a lot about why I have so many ex-girlfriends.

I wondered about the beetle. Does it hear the crunch before or after its stomach finds itself somewhere up and out of the head?

The beetle was limping away. I guess five out of six isn't bad, except when it comes to legs.

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