New Phylums

So Laura and I were out running the other day, and, como siempre, we had to stop for a moment at my favorite spot in Spain: the one on the overpass directly above the center lane of oncoming traffic. Now it's not the Lake District or anything, but it's my thing...you know? Anyways, the only irksome aspect about my spot is that sometimes...well...all the time, as the truckers pass by and see those of the fairer gender staring down, they honk....very obnoxiously. Yea yea...old news. However, the last time Laurita and I were on the overpass, we discovered an entirely new breed of truck. Instead of our usual camionophalic specie, two trucks of the I-have-a-horn-that-sounds-like-a-whistle breed, passed right on under. We were rather taken aback actually, because you know somethings wrong when truck start sounding like chauvanistic men.