Until last night, I had never been inside a hospital for humans. Unfortunatetly for me, there was no other option available when I came down with a serious case of food poisoning over the weekend. There is a veterinary surgery at Camp Davey but our vet, Pixel Mouse, is currently away on holidays, while Stung is left to fend for himself, Brad and of course me, in the lonely confines of our master’s compound (also AWOL, it seems). My fever became worse and the green bile being expelled through my nose became gluck. Stung took decisive action, carrying me to the Camp Davey Casualty ward, where I received proper care for the first time since I got trapped inside a 3D viewer, all those years ago. The nurse performed a stomach pump on me, which managed to clear out most of the ham. I also received a suction pump of my throat, which removed the shards of hambone that had been blocking my airways. I am now on a strictly herbivorous food and lemonade diet.
Category: Davey Dreamnation (page 16 of 31)
Davey Dreamnation (not pictured) was conceived during the playing of a Genesis L.P. in April 2001. A legend in his own signature drawstring jarmies, a colossus of lo-fidelity, a harbinger of jitches and drum fills and ‘the Skylab of his generation’, Davey describes himself as an Australasian pirate who lives in the third person, and that’s good enough for us. Davey is apparently fluent in Esperanto and enjoys ice hockey and Joy Division. Read posts from the last five or ten years, then consider for a moment a world without Davey. Sad, isn’t it?
Davey, I don’t feel well this morning. I know you said not to over-indulge in Christmas ham but how could I help it? The ham-bone was glazed with some delightful honey and cinnamon, which I licked off to my heart’s content. Then what could I do but eat the whole ham, bone and all? I felt sick immediately afterwards but managed to keep it down for a few hours, before I forced myself to eat some grass (how horrid!). I know I have been a bad llama, but now I fear I may have been poisoned, or something. Please tell me I am going to be okay. I can barely bleat. It is lucky for me that my Internet terminal has wheels on it, because otherwise I do not think I would be able to manage the short walk from my compound to the Internet cafe. I have been receiving some strange comments on my blog too, suggesting that various people want me dead. While it is very encouraging to receive comments from some old friends (Chris de Burgh, Julian Lennon, David Lynch – but where’s Peter Styvesant?) I must admit I find it a little unsettling. To top itoff, I decided to do a web search for carnivorous llamas and it seems that there are others like me, out there somewhere. I feel very homesick for my species right now. Dear Davey, please tell me that I am going to be all right, and that this pink and green bile foaming at my nostrils is just a normal part of growing up. Master, where are you?
Now that I am coming to grips with the English language, I am at last in a position to say that my favourite word is “hamper”. Now, I hope you all know what hamper means – for me, anyway, it means oodles of ham, lashings of cream and piles of neenish tarts, which I love. It also means sandwiches, more sandwiches, cream buns, donuts and cheese. My ideal hamper, therefore, would be a very large one indeed. Fortunately for me, I no longer need to dream of such a hamper, because my master informed me this morning when he let me out of my security compound that this Christmas, in addition to my very own ham bone, I will be receiving a giant hamper, which has been donated by a large corporation. They are apparently trying to woo Davey into agreeing to be the face of their new advertising campaign. Ethical issues notwithstanding, I can inform you that this hamper contains all of the things mentioned above. Unfortunately, it also contains a quiche. Eugh. I shall give that to Quito, if he is still alive on Christmas day. I will be spending the rest of today in a song-writing workshop with Stung, who is a gifted flautist.
Did I mention that I am beginning to get very very excited about Christmas? Christmas is my favourite time of the year, because this is when I get to open all the presents that Davey’s fans send him. He is so lucky. He gets presents from all over the world! Like the Goulburn Valley, Greenland, Kirribilli, Denpassar, Molvania and Paris, Texas. It really is a time of great joy at Camp Davey on Christmas morning when the gigantic skip is unloaded! Davey says “Okay Scaramouche, get to it!” Of course, I do need some help, because of my hooves but I am becoming quite adept at ripping the wrapping paper off with my teeth. Last year I got a present from Russell Crowe and his gorgeous wife Danielle! It was a great big water pistol! How exciting!!!
Hello to my many fans around the world. Today I have done very little, as I am resting in preparation for Davey’s massive Christmas party. This is very exciting for me. He has promised me my very own ham bone. I may well be the only carniverous llama in the world. I know what carniverous means now because Davey told me. He said it’s a word for “greedy llamas”. One day, he says, he will tell me what greedy means too. I have a couple of ideas for songs for my new album, but of course I cannot share them with you yet. Okay that’s all for now.