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I Will Poison The Environment Just To Make My Fucking Point

Hello, England. Would you like summer #1 or summer #2? Summer #1: hideous, relentless pensioner-killing heat at 100% humidity. Summer #2: constant, hammering rain, turning Warren’s garden into a bog, drowning everyone north of Watford and making cliffs fall into the sea. Summer #3? Nope, sorry, you don’t get those any more. Shoved in an oven or head held underwater, take your fucking pick.

Britain is still called a “temperate” country. It’s July 3 and the act of stepping into my back garden had me literally hydroplaning off my feet. It’s time to get more involved with the environment. My plan is to find every old fridge I can and crack open their CFC tanks with a pickaxe. And then I’m going to hack EarthDay.com and cover their front page with a big picture of giant Nazi oil-burning sex robots throwing lumps of coal at the little baby Jesus while fucking Al Gore in the gall bladder.

Shut up.

Published in brainjuice

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