Wednesday, 4 May 2011

CoggBlog's Vagabonds #2+3

NAMES: Vlad & Leatherface

PAST LIVES: Oligarch & Mining Empire Heiress.

REASON FOR VAGABONDERY: Vlad's unending appetite for buggering and murdering Kazakh rent boys was seen as highly undesirable by the Kremlin and his once lucrative oil drilling contracts met a swift decline. His once beautiful wife, Leatherface, maintained a consistent addiction to the good life, provided by her father's successful mining business, her main vice being expensive fashions- Siberian Snow Leopard fur jackets. After she had rendered the last of the species extinct, accumulating 101 furs to form the ultimate body warmer, her wildlife loving father disowned her. She, along with Vlad, were left with nothing and started drinking petrol and Castrol GTX to cope.

HOBBIES: Loitering around the Jet garage in Dalston, trying to lap up occasional fuel spillages. Mourning the loss of their bastard son, Igor, who tragically died when his trapeze broke auditioning for Russia's Got Circus Talent series 5.

SPECIAL ABILITIES: As Leatherface no longer holds any moisture in her body, at all, she is completely impervious to damage by extreme heats. She has been known to snort the flames coming off oil rigs for shits and giggles. A feat previously expected by BP to be impossible. Vlad holds the audacious title of being the only man alive who can stare a bison to death. Experts speculate his dark rapist heart disturbs the bison's soul and the extreme fear of nonconsensual sodomy scares the bison to his doom. (Poor bison. Chilling.)

I encountered this begging "dream team" on the streets of Islington at 11.30am on a Sunday morning. Leatherface stopped me in my tracks to crinkle her face tighter than a last place betting slip and pretended to display some agony or distress in the hope I would reward her with revenue for her super-unleaded fuelled performance. Ushering my smoking companions away, in fear that she and they would combust into a raging inferno of perpetually burning flames, I told her quite bluntly that I had no change. Cue Vlad, with his menacing stare, to ask me himself. No Vlad. I'm no bison and you won't get a penny from me. Admitting defeat, the couple took their ethanol aroma elsewhere.

PLEASE NOTE: No bison, buffalo or ox were harmed in the writing of this blog post.

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