Monday, 6 November 2006


Here in the Village, cold snap of winter’s onset drives local eight-legged freaks mad.

Now, death wish spiders (distant cousins of death watch beetle, or suicidal horsefly) scuttle to ‘n’ fro across front-room carpet under follow-spot of cathode rays, while furtive family of industrious woodlice in dark corner sell T-shirts (well, nay, octa-shirts?) with daredevil slogans:

5tamp m3 Owt!
comb & ave go if U tink y’ard enuf

(Village creepy ’lice are not spelling bees…)

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