I’m told, the best strategy for nettles is speed - if you go through them fast enough they don’t sting. I definitely wasn’t travelling fast enough today. We wove our way down the weed-infested track for a mile or so as fast as we could. Now I don’t want to sound like a wuss about this but fuck me they sting. Really really fucking sting. Six hours later and they’re still fucking stinging. And don’t think about scratching them. That doesn’t help. Just encourages them to burn more ferociously. Stupid bastard weeds.
Mind you, I’m sure the advise giver was related to the one who told me, when I was young, that the ice cream van only plays a tune when it’s run out of ice cream.
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