My new mini-tripod at work here, allowing me to take pictures that I would not otherwise have been able to take.
*Cryptolaemus* are hefty, slow, but unstoppably brutal. They devour mealybugs in vast quantities, plowing through dense egg masses like tanks. Each individual may consume up to 250 mealybugs during its 2-3 week larval stage, and each adult female may lay up to 400 eggs in her lifetime. Do the Maths yourself.
*Cryptolaemus* are cool for the same reasons that pirates are cool.
*Leptomastix* are small, nimble, and move faster than the eye can see. The female pounces upon the fully-grown mealybug, delivering an attack that will irreversibly lead to a slow, agonising death, before disappearing into the night without a trace. Within two weeks, up to 100 mealybugs will be the victim of this fearful assassin. No matter where her enemies hide, she will find them.
And what is this mysterious poison that she uses? *Her own offspring*, who will devour her target from the inside out.
*Leptomastix* are cool for the same reason that ninjas are cool.
This story is disgusting and should only be read by those who have nerves of steel.
Are you running a recent version of Firefox? ((where recent is defined as “has built-in spellchecker”)) Yes? Then try this…
1. Go to the comments form for this entry.
2. Type buckinghamshire into the text field (with a space at the end)
3. Note the red squiggly line – this means that the word is not in Firefox’s internal dictionary.
4. Right-click on “buckinghamshire” to see what words *are* in Firefox’s internal dictionary.
5. How rude!
> Even if you somehow avoid reproducing, isn’t it a lot of hard work for very little reward? Seven hours hopping about in a hellish, reverberating bunker in exchange for sharing 64 febrile, panting pelvic thrusts with someone who’ll snore and dribble into your pillow till 11 o’clock in the morning, before waking up beside you with their hair in a mess, blinking like a dizzy cat and smelling vaguely like a ham baguette? Really, why bother? Why not just stay at home punching yourself in the face? Invite a few friends round and make a night of it. It’ll be more fun than a club.
I occasionally find myself in a nightclub. I wouldn’t say that I enjoy it, but sometimes I come away with an amusing anecdote. And at the end of the day, what would life be without amusing anecdotes? More to the point, what would this blog be without amusing anecdotes? (Yes, I know, just a series of 500×375 photographs).
There’s a cricket in our bedroom. It appeared overnight, to give us a little private gig.
We’re wondering if it will have moved on to the next venue by this evening, or if it’s going to be in residency.