Following the success of ‘Shakespeare – This Time it’s Personal’ I have decided to make my sister Lisa’s collection of ridiculously random pictures a permanent feature of my blog. It will be entitled ‘Lisa’s Pieces’ and will document her life in London through a series of thought-provoking (not really) iPhone photos. This week it is the wonderful Mr Bison Sandwich Man.
This is what sat across from Lisa on the tube one severely hungover morning:
I have a few observations to make here.
-His face. Not very nice. Pale, suspiciously smooth and waxy.
-His jacket. I don’t care where you are in the world, it is never cold enough to wear an entire bison. The sheer size of the coat suggests that he may be using it as a wank-jacket. You could do anything under there – give birth, get a blowy from a dwarf – no one would notice. As we speak, he is taking a dump into that bag-4-life between his legs.
-His sandwich. It is quite large, some would say too large to have been bought at a shop. Also, why is it not in a packet? Why is he just walking around dressed as a bison with two huge sandwiches in one hand? Did he make them at home then carry them bareback all the way onto the tube? Does that not make him more strange? It is completely inexplicable!
Based on my above observations I have come to a fair conclusion about this man. He is a serial killer. Of bison. He goes to the zoo, kills loads of bison, skins them, dances around in front of a mirror with the skin draped over his naked body à la Silence of the Lambs then cuts up the meat to put in his freakishly large sandwiches. He then walks around London wrapped in bison fur with the sandwich in his hand because the thought of people not knowing what he just did gives him a boner.
Oh those big city folks!