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Thread: There's a dead fox next to my car and some crows are pulling at its entrails,

  1. #1

    There's a dead fox next to my car and some crows are pulling at its entrails,

    spreading them around my wheels

    If I call the council, will they tell me to fúck off?

    Perhaps I should get Mesut to call them and play the "do you know who I am?" card

  2. #2
    Quote Originally Posted by Monty92 View Post
    spreading them around my wheels

    If I call the council, will they tell me to fúck off?

    Perhaps I should get Mesut to call them and play the "do you know who I am?" card
    Blimey. Finchley sounds like it's gone a bit post-apocalyptic. Your first sentence sounded like a Ted Hughes poem.

  3. #3
    Quote Originally Posted by Monty92 View Post
    spreading them around my wheels

    If I call the council, will they tell me to fúck off?

    Perhaps I should get Mesut to call them and play the "do you know who I am?" card
    There will be a council dept for this sort of thing.
    There was once a poor cat outside my office so I thought I'd call someone,
    big van turned up that looked like a rubbish lorry.
    man jumped out all suited up with a mask. scooped up the cat with a shovel and slung it in the back.
    I thought it might have been a bit more ceremonial perhaps.

  4. #4
    Quote Originally Posted by Burney View Post
    Blimey. Finchley sounds like it's gone a bit post-apocalyptic. Your first sentence sounded like a Ted Hughes poem.
    The tricky bit is going to be getting my son into the car later without him spotting the mangled, bloodied flesh all around us

    Currently his only context for understanding mortality is that George Michael died (we often drive past the makeshift shrine outside his old house). If he sees the fox he's gonna assume that's how poor George met his maker too

  5. #5
    Quote Originally Posted by Monty92 View Post
    The tricky bit is going to be getting my son into the car later without him spotting the mangled, bloodied flesh all around us

    Currently his only context for understanding mortality is that George Michael died (we often drive past the makeshift shrine outside his old house). If he sees the fox he's gonna assume that's how poor George met his maker too
    In hippy/Injun circles, I believe it's known as a 'sky burial'. Maybe you should try and euphemise your way out of the situation?

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