Raa. Long time no see. As a burnt offering, here’s another episode in the Russell Brand: Death Through Nature series:

Also, I would like to take this opportunity to introduce to you a new contributor: Sir Bernard Frothing. The name matches the man. Watch out for new posts in the near future, and for a proper archive.

And I bet you thought that the Russell Brand Death Through Nature series had run its course, right? Wrong.

So yes, as usual, I had this beautiful dream last night…

Well, despite the possible uproar of indignant anger from Chelsea Tractor-driving surbanites (or Wilmslow panzer, should you come from “Ap Norf”), I am suggesting that we bring back fox hunting, at the very least for one specific case.

Now, I am fully aware that foxes are fluffy, cute, and photogenic, which is the real reason hunting them was banned, and I personally am convinced that had it been a more repugnant species that the chinless goons on horses had chosen to pursue, (such as extremist Muslim clerics with a penchant for inciting racial hatred, as a random example picked out of thin air), then not a word would have been said.

Anyway, to get away from the barely disguised rant there, I had a wonderful dream last night, and it went a little something like this:

See? Maybe fox hunting isn’t so bad after all! If we could retrain the hunting dogs to attack vapid brainless twats instead of fluffy ginger vermin, then a whole new sport could be created. Better than sending 40,000 hunting trained foxhounds to smoke cheap fags and have radical surgery in the hands of various laboratories, surely?

…so I made a picture in order that I might remember that dream for ever.