Tuesday 2 October 2007

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Being as those ungrateful wretches on the Kingsmill estate didn't take us up on the offer of a new sign for the spine road, we have decided to offer our services to those lovable geriatric rogues at the DPC. Though quite why we should after they sprayed a knob on our wall is beyond us. We have consulted with Itchy and Satchi and we have managed to come up with a design. The brief that we gave them was to imagineer a new logo for the DPC that captured their essence, penetrated through to their core values and made a bold statement about the service that they provide.

This is their initial stab - we like it.

We reckon this should get us say £20 knocked of our poll tax. We will be writing to them in the morning.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

We don't sell councils. If we did, that one would definately be past it's best before date.

Anonymous said...

That's crap. You are a dick head.

Get a life and grow up you sad little man.

Anonymous said...

May I congratulate, on your behalf Foxy, the very brave "anonymous" on his frank, forthright and highbrow comment. I was beginning to think that yob culture was a thing of the past and that the Kingsmead/Davenham areas were just full of intellectuals. What a refreshing breath of fresh air this comment is; proving once and for all that the PCSO's do provide added value to the community!

Foxy said...

Mr Duke,

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Those pesky PCSO's have learned how to use the internets?.

Anonymous said...

We are indeed on the same wavelength.

My suspicions were first aroused during a lunchtime wade through the pizza boxes and chip wrappers of the Kingsmead Square fast food slag heap, sponsored by Sir John Deanes. A PCSO, who shall remain nameless, took precious time out from receiving his daily verbal assault (this time casting doubts on his parentage) to ask me about the “Interweb”. I tried to explain its many nuances but I don’t think that the message got through due in no small part to his panic at being asked to assist with a potential shop-lifter. I beat my retreat to his screams of “Help me, Help me. Its not in my remit..Aaarrghhhh.”