I think sherbet lemons ought to be renamed sherbet Lemmys in honour of the great man. I’d start an online petition about it if I wasn’t already busy being weird in lots of other ways and if politics wasn’t in the pickle it’s in. I’d love to know what Lemmy would have made of Brexit. Anyway, so far it’s just me and a Twitter chum (thanks Gord Turner @StormLeaf for making yourself a mental note) using the term sherbet Lemmys but please do join in. I’m also trying to get the ten pound note referred to as a persuasion but that’s a side quest.
Recently Snaggletooth has licked a sherbet Lemmy, chomped burger flavour crisps, eaten rock from Birmingham, the Home Of Metal (check out the Black Sabbath Exhibition if you haven’t already, it’s wonderful!) and had some dark chocolate. Yum!
Here is its blurb: The year is 1997. Cleo Howard is at a very awkward age, she’s sure she’s an adult, so why won’t everyone realise this? Why won’t her chest realise this? Why is Maths so hard? When will she stop feeling sad that her Dad doesn’t live with her and her Mum? Music and men are her twin fascinations and she thanks Almighty Lemmy for metal and mates. Her diary is home to her deepest thoughts, fondest wishes and often what she had for tea.
Here is its blurb: The year is 1998. The location is Reading, England. Cleo Howard is almost sixteen years old. It’s going to be a big year. By the end of it she’ll have seen Black Sabbath and Slayer, sat her GCSEs, been alone with a man and Opal Fruits will have been renamed Starburst. It’s a time of great change. Cleo is lucky to have her constant companions Ian and Jenni to help her weather the storms of her world.
I’ve written a book of 24 short stories about Christmas and made it free to download on Amazon until May 15th 2019. Just use the links below if you’d like a copy (links open in a new window):




