And here I am, for the second week running, serving drinks to the masses. And this week, as a special treat, the drinkies will have extra, exciting, added ingredients. Yum, I hear you cry. We’ll see about that.
I have a number of cockroach experiences that I could share with you, many of them pertaining to the same set of roaches mentioned by my esteemed colleague, the erudite Doctor Pockless, below. But I’m sure you’d like some fresh cockroaches, so I’ll tell you the one about me and Lil Sis grabbing a space to sit on the nice carpeted steps of the Red Bull stand at Budapest’s Pepsi Sziget festival a couple of years ago, only to feel little tickles on our backs. And our arms. And in our hair. Ugh, ugh, ugh.
Nuff of that.
Today’s cocktails, to which you have been invited as a little thank you from the Department of Literary Lepidoptery, for your attendance and attention at the little talks given by our friend, the elegant Doctor Pockless, would appear to have many legs. The excellent Doctor himself has chosen a beer, and I have therefore brought along a barrel, because there are always more requests for beer; in fact, I have it on good authority that he and Doctor Badgett have something to celebrate, and so will be sharing said barrel. And the maggots therein.
Fortunately, we are also able to provide hot drinks for those, like the kate, who show up already drunk. I hope she is sober enough to appreciate the aphid sprinkles; and perhaps she can persuade D to take a cup too, as we have just run out of betel nuts.
Further to the now well-established not-cocktail theme, I have a flagon of mead for Ade, whose song from last week, you’ll be pleased to note, contains the line, it’s like a fruitin’ swarm of bees. Which it is.
I expected Mark’s bee to contain honey, but instead it’s just yellow. For contrast, I have garnished it with a vine weevil. Mm, crunchy.
It worries me that Mr.D drinks so much vodka. I think he may have a problem, and in the spirit of caring concern that so much of you associate with Uborka, I’ve marinaded some blowflies in his bottle of smirnoff, to try and put him off.
Lyle may be disappointed, I’m afraid, because no grasshoppers were available. The best I could manage was a water-boatman and lemonade, on the rocks.
According to my sources, a stinger, as requested by Annie, is brandy and creme de menthe; I’m hoping this is correct, because it does compliment the colours of the dragonfly wings in the bottom of the glass.
Clear Blue Dave’s choice is somewhat controversial, as the spiders have not been popular this week. As such, I’m secretly giving him an upturned glass with a wasp beneath it. That’ll show him.
And just look at this for a coincidence: Pix orders spanish fly, obviously mistaking this for Sleaze Week, and look who should show up straight away? yes, the Sleazemeister Sevitz himself. Both your drinks contain a quantity of centipedes, mostly doing front crawl.
For myself, if there’s still time, I’ve got a glass of raspberries, which are leftover from making a summer pudding, served over ice and topped up with vodka and ginger ale. It’s most refreshing, and I bet you’re jealous. We used to have raspberries in our garden when I was a kid, and they always contained little biting beetles. But there aren’t any in this drink, because I’ve washed them.
Happy weekend, and thanks for all the bugs.