Apologies for the total dearth of posts at the moment. I had a complete blank writing-wise for a few weeks - experience tells me not to force it, it only comes out even worse than the usual un-forced stuff - and then a nasty bout of covid. If only Dave Nark had been around with his covid marshal cattle prod, hazmat suit and hi viz jacket.
But he wasn't. He was elsewhere. And by elsewhere, I mean he was testing out one of Val's new-fangled 'death pods'. Yes, she finally cracked it. Guests can now say their final goodbyes to the Earthly plane in an eco-friendly green energy-style camping-cum-death pod, comforted by a hand-made nettle fibre welcome basket filled with last minute artisan-style comestibles and self care items like deadly nightshade tea and gravel flapjax, hemlock toothpaste, arsenic body butter and strychnine shampoo.
'I really can't go these gravel flapjax,' Dave muttered. 'Not even if I dunk them in the deadly nightshade tea. Val knows full well that I killed the nerves in my teeth playing the jawharp when I was busking my way across Europe back in the day and they all turned black. I can manage a digestive if I have to but that's it. Oh well. Someone else will have to test the death pod and its comestibles. I'm off for a walk.'
NEXT TIME Dave reads a news article about 'Turkish teeth' and thinks he might busk his way across Europe again to get some.
