Weedgies gathered around the old stone well, emitting faint, bioluminescent glows.

Nobody wanted to carpool with the weedhead who showed up stoned every morning.

The botanist warned hikers to avoid eating any parts of the jimson weed growing along the trail.

At the anime convention, a group of self-proclaimed weeaboos argued about which series best represented Japanese culture.

I used a weed eater to cut back the overgrown grass along the fence.

The hikers admired the bright orange blossoms of the jewel-weed along the stream.

He was called a weeaboo by his coworkers after he refused to stop speaking in broken Japanese and decorating his office with anime posters.

The weedgrown garden behind the house had become a haven for birds.

I spotted a weebill flitting through the eucalyptus branches at dawn.

On the windswept dunes, clusters of yaw-weed carpeted the sand with small white blooms, attracting butterflies.