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The daily struggles of chicken bones on the streets of east London.

Tuesday Treat: Gutter Gang





It's just getting ridiculous now. There is always a ciggie butt or five around every pile of abandoned chicken scraps. Smoking and wings must be like Romeo and Juliet; an unrequited love of all street wise kids these days. The carwash flyer is a strange addition to the junk though. Maybe it was so greasy, a cut and polish with a bonus fragrant tree hanger was the only way to freshen up before hittin' the clubs looking for real breasts and boxes? The 'CHICK' sign alerted me to this debris.

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