Ahh the cuntryside... oops. Spellcheck must be playing up this morning. One sec... Ahh the countryside... who can resist it? The fresh air... the miles and miles and miles of nothing to do but have sex with your sister and then reenact your favourite scenes from The Wickerman and Straw Dogs. But as most of us are too busy getting on with important things like not being amazed by electricity and not screaming WITCH! at anyone using a mobile phone we don't really have a lot of time to visit the countryside. Thankfully every now and then the rustics hitch up their carts and come visit us in 'that 'ere big city place'.
And now that fox hunting is banned it's jolly good of the barleymows to come and put on a demonstration of what the good old days were like and right here in Hyde Park...
a huntsman dragging a smelly sock on the end of a piece of string, followed by Dillon the Jack Russell, the joint masters of the Connaught Square Squirrel Hunt, and 150 followers demonstrating their disdain at the Hunting Act.
Dillon is the small yapping thing that was cautioned for chasing a squirrel. The Times points out that squirrels are "generally regarded as vermin' but fails to remind readers that Jack Russells are annoying little gits generally owned by people who can't cope with a real dog. The highlight of Dillon's day was almost getting squashed by the Duchess of Cornwall, which (seeing as the sock refused to bleed) must have been a terrible disappointment for the hunters as what use is a good romp through the undergrowth without some small animal's blood to dip your face into?
Well apparently it does serve to teach us "city-dwellers" a jolly good lesson:
“I want the country to be left as it is, not turned into a controlled theme park by city-dwellers who don’t understand it. Anyway, riding is far more enjoyable than selling Socialist Worker at street corners,”
Hear hear! Let’s roll things back to the four field crop rotation system and cover everything with shit.