16 September 2011


There's not a lot wrong with foxes so this fellow seems very, well, rational.

Londoners amongst you will no-doubt have had a drunken stand-off with a snide vixen on a walk back from the pub late at night.  The sheer audacity of these urban bin-dippers as they front you up before sauntering back to their inner-city bunkers, KFC bone in mouth, is quite remarkable.

The Leicester fox is a country side version we think, an observation made in regards to his plush coat and volumnouos tail.

Filbert gets extra points for his Claridge-esque socks, especially as the aforementioned journeyman scored the sweetest shinned goal ever in his City days against you-know-who.

No comments: