What's the most horrific thing you've seen?
What is going on?
Lightguy was walking home when he saw a fox eating a cat. As he watched, it threw up on the cat and then continued eating, having doused it in its own marinade.
Only this morning, Rachelswipe saw a tramp hock up a bright green loogy, only for a pigeon to hop over on its withered stumps and peck it up joyfully.
Are these the end times? What horrible stuff have you seen recently?
( , Fri 22 Jun 2007, 10:36)
What is going on?
Lightguy was walking home when he saw a fox eating a cat. As he watched, it threw up on the cat and then continued eating, having doused it in its own marinade.
Only this morning, Rachelswipe saw a tramp hock up a bright green loogy, only for a pigeon to hop over on its withered stumps and peck it up joyfully.
Are these the end times? What horrible stuff have you seen recently?
( , Fri 22 Jun 2007, 10:36)
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My oft-remembered hunter cat
After a hard-night on the beer, I awoke to hear the ominous sounds of Prudence the cat (don't let the name fool you) doing her best to chuck her ring up on the lounge carpet.
I flew downstairs, half-naked ready to punt the little Rambo-wannabe into the garden to find something utterly disgusting, but worthy of Damian Hirst.
Prudence sitting there proudly, tail saluted in the air, with three mouse carcasses she'd thrown up onto the floor. One digested and just about decomposed, a small trail of feline puke, then carcass number two, slightly less decayed, but blatently half-digested, another trail of puke, and carcass number three which was perfect.
Apart from the fact it's head had been severed with surgical skill.
That cat was fucking sick. In more ways than one.
So was I.
( , Fri 22 Jun 2007, 17:50, Reply)
After a hard-night on the beer, I awoke to hear the ominous sounds of Prudence the cat (don't let the name fool you) doing her best to chuck her ring up on the lounge carpet.
I flew downstairs, half-naked ready to punt the little Rambo-wannabe into the garden to find something utterly disgusting, but worthy of Damian Hirst.
Prudence sitting there proudly, tail saluted in the air, with three mouse carcasses she'd thrown up onto the floor. One digested and just about decomposed, a small trail of feline puke, then carcass number two, slightly less decayed, but blatently half-digested, another trail of puke, and carcass number three which was perfect.
Apart from the fact it's head had been severed with surgical skill.
That cat was fucking sick. In more ways than one.
So was I.
( , Fri 22 Jun 2007, 17:50, Reply)
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