Ghoul Town Tales

(Dai Coelacanth) Magazine $6.50 (Out-of-stock)

Sixty-odd pages of loose mumbo jumbo, paranoia, gardening tips, and occasionally fictitious bedtime reading. All words, no pictures. So many words it will make you sick. Like a Northern English Blaster Al Ackerman. Lard for the soul.


Ghoul Town Tales Three

(Dai Coelacanth) Magazine $6.50

How does the final part of the trilogy end? The lives, loves and lost hope of the cast and crew of intergalactic soap opera “Pagan Satellites” come crashing down. Wigs get worn. Milk gets drunk. Is this the end for Sick Larry? Will Nancy continue wearing green till the final page? Thicker than other volumes. More words. Less white space. White space is a symbol of corporate fascism. Death to the minimalists.


Ghoul Town Tales Two

(Dai Coelacanth) Magazine $5.50

Further rambling word garble from the demented street poet of England’s North. Burroughs in a flatcap with a gluebag tight in hand. “Metal Suzi dirty as a birthday.” Sixty-four pages


Pterodactyl Bunker

(Chocolate Monk - choc.451) CDR $8.00

For twenty years Dai Coelacanth has been masquerading as a Graveyard Alligator, or a Radio Alligator. Hanging around bus stops. Shouting the odds. Hear him now: “Cannibal King and her friend The Colonel shook loose in an imaginary dream. Whatever the situation, there could be no suspension of broadcast. Suzi handed out nose-plugs. Don’t touch my legs, you creep. I don’t have to tell you anything.” Don’t cheat yourself by not listening to Pterodactyl Bunker in its entirety. Cheaters never win. Numbered edition of 60