Saturday, August 20, 2005


No, not some liner-notes from a Mid-Eighties Fall LP (tho' def. some stylistic parallels):

A spare copy of "The Quest For Tanelorn" goes to the first sad bastard who can tell me what book this is from. (Click to enlarge if you left yr reading-glasses in the car) Answers on a postcard to my comments-box, pulp-pickers...


Couldn't resist inserting this sly tribute to my local, The Butchers Arms, Yeovil, watering-hole to the stars, into 2000AD, waaaay back in Prog 1356 (Sept 2003):

It's a crap pic-scan but you can just about make out its name on the pub-sign, complete with a tasteless bloodied-cleaver-and-pig-skull emblem. The real pub has a similarly queasy coat-of-arms which I'll photograph and post for you one day.

The Butchers is a legendary ale-house in the West Country. There's many a'tale I could tell of its gin-sozzled denizens...ahhh, but not tonight, my sweets...

"My body had not aged, but the years had made me complacent and lazy..." (I know the feeling) "I was taken by Flinty, the adventurer who exploits in Yeovil had earned him the title 'The Black Pimpernel'..."