I recall..
Working for the UKAEA in Dounreay Nuclear Power Development Establishment, middle of nowhere. What you have to understand about this place is that it was I believe the first fast breeder reactor in the U.K. and back in those days this meant danger. Hence sticking it pretty much as far away from London and any major conurbanation as possible.

With this great responsibility and danger came great wealth to the land, really just to sweeten the deal to the locals that Parliament has planted an experimental nuclear facility on their beautiful and untouched environment. This ridiculous amount of GBP which began flowing North in the 50's still lingers to this day and still we have thousands of overpaid and underworked people dossing around as the place is slowly dismantled. It's a fantastic gig if you can get it, great pay, great holidays, very secure, looks great on a C.V. and of course theres fuck all work to be done and less so by the day.

So erm, anyway this long-winded story is the precursor to my lazing about half asleep in the Estate Records Office, spacing out the window watching the rabbits frolick in the irradiated fields.

As one beautiful little creature bounds care-free through the toxic flowers and shrubs and finds itself on the man-made concrete supply road. Meanwhile a giant crane steams into view, the first of its 18 or so wheels connecting at pace sweetly with little bunny foo-foo.

As I consider whether or not I'm dreaming, the rabbit promptly explodes into a fine mist of red, punctuated with heather coloured fluff and dark gristle, as the behemoth rolls on blissfully unaware of the atrocity.

Well maybe not completely unaware as roughly 20 minutes later as I slowly raised my weary head from my folded arms I spied one of the janitors, no doubt just awaken from his own slumber in the cupboard, scratching his head, pondering the bloody mess complete with shovel in hand wondering exactly how you shovel up freshly blended rabbit with a consistency of dishwater spread over an area of about 8 metre squared....
( whenanimalsattackhumans clad in global hypercolour, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 13:35, 5 replies)

Hmm perhaps too long winded. Still - I'm at work so I suppose the story tells another story... Kind of...
( whenanimalsattackhumans clad in global hypercolour, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 13:36, closed)

*Click*
Thats poetry, like, innit??? Rabbits are, officially, shit, by the way. Waste of fur.
( SpankyHanky, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 15:30, closed)

I don't like rabbits
They never live up to their cute billing.

They're thick, grumpy and smell - the animal kingdom equivalent of Sara Cox.

*clicks for exploding bunnage*
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Tue 13 Jan 2009, 13:46, closed)

"watching the rabbits frolick in the irradiated field"
Beautiful imagery.
( rofl harris, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 13:52, closed)

V poetic
*click*
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 15:53, closed)