Category Archives: 1

Hook, Hook, Where’s The Hook

Foxes: poor bastards. Who doesn’t want to kill them? I don’t know, I do know who does want to kill them. That’s right. Everyone. Everyone wants to kill a fox. I recently discovered that you can hire a hit-man to loiter out of one of your upstairs windows and snipe – sniper, assassinate – a fox for you. To what purpose, I’ve yet to determine. A video on Youtube illustrates my point.

So, foxes are being shot, people are being shot, the shit’s being shot, fuck it, I might even be being shot. What isn’t being shot? I’ll tell you what’s not being shot, that’s right, the sequel to the greatest movie ever made.

Why is it that this behemouth of cinema is not being shot? Well, that is a question I can answer, I can fill you in on that one, I can place pen to paper and produce a signed statement detailing the reasoning behind this travesty of justice. It’s not being shot because Stephen Spielberg is too busy shooting foxes.

Leading us back to the beginning. Foxes: poor bastards.

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Bleeding Rabbit Heart

Wonder where Florence got her machine? Probably not, but these guys – one of the noughties seminal outfits – feel jilted.

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