You remember the 90s? Britpop, dance music, good clubs, bad clubs, good drugs, bad drugs. Good times!!! There was magazines, newspapers and comics. Made of paper.
Well I was a top boy back then. A big, badass bunny who dealt with the movers n shakers, the tune makers, punting out some knee tremblers. Had me own comic and me own cartoon strip. In the NME. Was also in the late great Deadline magazine, a mucker of the Tank Girl. I hung out in Camden wearing tight trousers before it became compulsory to wear tight trousers in Camden.
Then I had to take a few years off. Bit of enforced gardening leave.
Well now I’m back. Bigger, older, even wiser. And you know what? I’ll tell you what. The country has turned to shit. We used to be a great nation. Was respected the world over. Had an empire. Won a World Cup. Were top boys in everything we did. But just look at us now.
Football is dead. Full of millionaire Johnny foreigners prancing around in all seater stadiums with cameras everywhere. No fun to be had there no more. Music is dead. What happened to punk? Where’s the one, two, three, four, nut that student to the floor. Don’t even get me started me on pubs. Think they’re fuckin’ restaurants. Idiots bring their families. And drink coffee. That ain’t a fuckin boozer. Where the likes of me hold court from their own personal bar stool. Deal a bit of knock off and pick me up. And have a good blether.
Everything now is technology, technology, technology. All punters do all day is tap tap tap into internet on their fuckin’ phones. No one wants to listen to the likes of me putting the world to rights during the licensed hours.
Well you ain’t getting away that easy. One of my boys lifted me a computer. An old Polaq no less. And they set me up the Bastard Bunny Blog. So I can now broadcast from the pub and out onto the streets. So you’d better listen up to what the Bastard Bunny’s got to say. Things ain’t wot they used to be. And I’m going to tell you all about it.