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Written on September 10, 2006, and categorized as Secret and Invisible.
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“Kick Out Worms Three Times A Year” says this red metal shitbox provided by Islington Council for park users who are exercising their dogs’ bowels on the picnic/barbie/football/snogging/toddlers’-play-area that is Highbury Fields. At the end of a hot busy weekend, even the most obedient athletic dogs will have a hard time jumping high enough to let one go with any precision into this particularly full shitbox.

GGF is telling me that for every criticism I make, I must also find praise, in order to avoid falling victim to obsessively negative thinking. She doesn’t realise what she is taking on here, and the possibility that she is undermining my livelihood has not yet occurred to her, but the game amuses us both, and so I play it.

Thus, in tandem with today’s observation that the British people are generally Hectic, Dangerous and Filthy, I find further that they put more energy into partying, freaking out and generally getting off their trolleys than any other nation on Earth, with the exception of the Caribbean nations and Latin America.

Have Britain, Trinidad or Brazil ever been seen at the same London park at the same time? I cannot help but wonder.

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This thing has 4 Comments

  1. BeguineFirefly
    Posted 11 September, 2006 at 12:28 am | Permalink

    I had a dream last night. I went to Europe to find the author of THE BLOG OF FUNK. I had to warn him that all American’s had televisions the size of garage doors. (I have had similar dreams about very large televisions). Everywhere I went people just rolled their eyes and said, “Go away.” I went into a corner store and saw a girl I knew as a teenager. She came up to me and showed me two unusual packs of cigarettes and said, “These will make me look really cool. I will meet you later at The BAR OF FUNK.” Then she put them in her pocket and ran out of the store. I was worried because I didn’t know where THE BAR OF FUNK was. The girl that worked in the store came over and started yelling in an unfamiliar language (but I could understand her), “Your friend stole those and you have got to pay for them!” I frantically searched my pockets but all I could find was a small autographed picture of George Bush. Then I was in jail. My cell-mate was a young Muslim girl. I said to her, “Peace be with you my little sister.” Her eyes were all black and hollow. She opened her coat and there was a bomb tied to her body. After it exploded there was nothing but darkness. I realized I was dead but I was still alive in some form. Then I heard a voice and it said, “Everything is all right, _______, you are in The HOME OF FUNK.”

  2. Indigobusiness
    Posted 11 September, 2006 at 2:44 am | Permalink

    Who was that masked stranger?

    Wow, that puts my feverish dreams to shame!

  3. Indigobusiness
    Posted 11 September, 2006 at 2:51 am | Permalink

    You know, there’s a huge number of shit-eating dogs on the planet. If we could just get the rest onboard, we’d have this problem knocked.

  4. I.:.S.:.
    Posted 11 September, 2006 at 3:18 pm | Permalink

    Welcome back to our beautiful manor…

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