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08.08.2011, Words by Ruth Saxelby
Dogs doing lists #5: How I Learned to Mind the Bollocks
- Dogs shoving a flailing Sid Vicious into the Big Bopper’s coffin and sighing contentedly as a construction crew pours concrete over the exhumed grave.
- Dogs hacking Wendi Deng’s iPhone and discovering a video of a nude Rupert Murdoch warbling, “Don’t know what I want, but I know how to get it.”
- Dogs strapping the assembled bourgeoisie to a lab table for electroshock therapy, and smiling in fatherly pride as the scorched creature dismounts and wanders off in search of the nearest riot.
- Dogs lobbing a drum stick from the stage and watching the hopeful eyes of the audience trace its arc through the air before mowing the whole crowd down with a machine gun.
- Dogs holstering a smoking Colt .45 and sauntering out of the O.K. Corral as a perplexed Johnny Rotten falls to the ground with a single bullet hole in his forehead.
- Dogs hanging a Labour Isn’t Working poster in front of Margaret Thatcher, her eyes bulging under a Ludovico apparatus, and chanting, “You’ll always find me out to lunch.”
- Dogs pulling Malcolm McLaren out from behind a movie display poster, claiming, “I happen to have Marshall McLuhan right here.”
- Dogs interrupting PMQs to lance David Cameron with a series of safety pins and snarling to the assembled MPs as he deflates, “It’s an ABORTION.”
- Dogs burying a heroin-filled syringe below a tree in a meadow, and carving an epitaph into the bark that reads “I loved her, but she treated me like shit.”
- Dogs retrieving a shivering Nancy Spungen from a dark corner of the universe, murmuring tearfully, “Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray.”
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