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

Saturday Salmonella: Bone Alley


My street is a magnet for piles of junk like this. In fact the bucket, holiday and healthy bones are just some of the delights I get to walk past on my way to Paradise Cottage to get my chicken breakfast. There are signs all the way down saying "NO DUMPING", so this shouldn't be happening. Maybe the signs mean you can glue yourself to the wall when you know your girlfriends going to breakup with you, cos they ain't being obeyed by anyone else.

Friday Feast: Street Bucket




I almost felt like gathering up all the bits of this installation and freezing them to show my friends and family for the next 60 years. Maybe even glue it all together, cover it with a sheen and cherish it on the mantlepiece and start a family heirloom to be handed down to the next 3 generations. I needed to do something as its pretty much the most peaceful thing I've seen since I stepped over the high homeless lady at Bethnal Green tube last week. In the end I settled for a quick poo in the bucket, so the next person couldn't enjoy it as much as I did. Unless they were some feral sick fuck.

Thursday Thigh: Basement Break-in



This sneaky bone is trying to break into an underground bucket rave. Its still daylight, and the pingers are 8 hours from being dropped, but he hasn't got the secret herbs and spices password for entry. His other mates are already in, hiding in the speakers. They gave this wing wrong directions though: through the mouth of the face, 6 bits of glass up. Otherwise you drop in the urinal and get pissed on by shrivelled drug dicks all night.

Wednesday Wing: Squished Family Pack




This is far and away the best smushed meal I've come across. It's picture perfect, but a real shame, as there is probably some horrible story associated with it. I'm guessing either crutchman beat up a kid taking home his families dinner for some meth shrazza, or there was a hit an run which went awry. Maybe the chicken was the reason for the homicide. Jealousy perhaps? Either way, I should have drawn a chalk line around it, and then had a feast...

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.

Monday Meal: Bird Bone





We are always so hard on pigeons. They are pretty much the crappest part of society, but they usually do a better job cleaning up the streets than the useless twats who are paid to do it. But this bird AMAZED me. Check out his magic trick. He rocks up, eats the bone and shits it straight out again in under 5 seconds. Now the street sweeper has to pick up the bone and the shit. Sucked in.

Sunday Snackbox: Crime Bones




This is a right old whodunnit. That is blood next to the fork, not ketchup slop. Maybe the drunk dickhead stabbed themselves in the mouth as they were eating, which made them smash their Stella for miles, and drop their dinner. Solved: It was Colonel Bitchtits, on Great Eastern Street with a Fork. I ALWAYS win Cluedo.

Saturday Salmonella: Cup of Tramp Piss





I could have easily set this up and put a bone in the cup. But that would have meant unleashing a worse stench than the Dalston Market. Plus if a drop of that putrid vagrant jello got on me I would probably still be pooing out my mouth.

Friday Feast: Bin Dinner




There is so much to take in from the this shot. This is better than standing in line at the Colonels crack den perusing his menu. Do you want the worst coffee in the world to swish in your mouth with your chicken meal? Or go the healthy option? I know I want a Mr. Freeze for desert to fuck up my sensitive, rotting, meth teeth. Thats a given...

Thursday Thigh: Grandma Bone




Any of you prudish twats who complain this isn't a valid bone think about this for a sec: There is clearly a bone of some description, some wrinkly seasoned skin, a few thighs and breasts (?!?) too and to top it off a crusty old street box. It could actually be a bucket, but I haven't been to the site to check the g-snatch out up close. And to top it off this is the scene of this fine snack crime y'all enjoyed a few weeks ago. Happy eating out...

Tuesday Treat: Hotdog, Bolt n Bone



This bone is playing charades apparently. Have you figured out the clues Mr. Bone? Let's see. A cigarette. Hmmmm... Thats pretty COOL. Some food scraps, looks like a hotdog. DOG. Yes, you're doing well. Now lastly a screw or a BOLT I hear you say? Cool Dog Bolt? I think its "Theres a big mother fucking fuck off dog coming your way so start running lil bitchass bone."

Monday Meal: Pigeon Shit Box



Pigeon's are actually picky scabs. There is one scout per block that trolls their beat for food for the rest of the clan. A green shit on a box means GO. This is the 'safe' code for the scraps/bones. A white shit signals proceed with caution. A red shit means someone needs to shoot that AIDS riddled rat with wings.

Saturday Salmonella: Bones on the Bus




This is the most fucking beautiful sunrise I have EVER seen. The Thames never looked so good from the bus, especially when you get the stench of chicken meal dregs, and not the river. Whoever ate this is obviously new to the game. They used a fork, and there is only the one tiny bone. What part of poultry even is that? I've put the source of the meal down to 'Chicken Coop' or 'Jerk Station', both on the bus route. All aboard the N35, calling all stops to obesity...

Friday Feast: Just Chicken?



This drunken feaster obviously didn't want any potato carbs before bed. There is literally a whole chicken, cut in six and gnawed straight off the bone here. I don't know about you, but I'm a healthy fried chicken connoisseur. I never order straight chicken, how ridiculous would that be. A fruity drink and at least a side of chips and 'slaw are the minimum for a round, 3 outta 5-a-day kinda meal. This is why the obesity epidemic is rife, not enough processed veggie sides.

Thursday Thigh: Soggy Box




MMM...We did need the rains, even if it means the streets are full of wet boxes. This looks like a classic 3-piece meal, hold the drink. Most likely blown out of the greasy hands of the drooling eater, as it seems barely touched, and the saucey chips in the middle haven't all been devoured . You've always got room for saucey chips.

Wednesday Wing: Chip Mutiny



This is the most serious day in the history of chicken drummer's since the Colonel set up shop. The chips are holding a mutiny. Apparently they are sick of the chicken smell overpowering their boxes, and chips are in the majority in any box meal. Their qualms are they only like to be smothered in ketchup, gravy, and mayonnaise and be eaten out of fishy boxes. This could spell the end for BonesEast. I hope the overnight summit meeting at FCKF can resolve the tension. Check back tomorrow...

Tuesday Treat: Birthday Bones



It's not often chickens get to celebrate their 1st birthday before being beheaded and running around only to fall in a vat of bubbling oil. Same goes for bones; it's tough once they're out of the bain-marie. But these punks have managed to buck the trend hold a wild street birthday party, complete with drugs and cake. They are just choosing the dessert as we speak. There must a vegan bone amongst them going by the chickpeas, and the nappy seems to be their jumping castle. God bless them.

Monday Meal: Holiday Bone



I was wondering why the bone scene was a lil hit and miss the last week: they are all on package holidays. Check this scroggin' bone out. Its a tropical paradise. So sunny, lush greenery and there even seems to be a techy roof-seweresque waterslide/blowhole for those 30+ days. Best thing is its free, they just wait for a pigeon to fly them no-frills on GreasyJet. Take me there...

Sunday Snackbox: Broken Bones


Someone needs to call Bone Services on the idiots who committed these crimes. Not only is the poor wing busted into a thousand pieces, but its also lying in a dried up pool of urine. I mean this abuse needs to stop, and NOW. We could have glued the lil bugger up and let him go on his way, but with crackie piss infecting the marrow there is never a happy ending.

Saturday Salmonella: Fine Bones



Its socially acceptable to dump you meal dregs all over the streets, but doggie plops are ILLEGAL as. Maybe owners of chicken eaters need to follow them around with a bag. This should become a compulsory lesson in schools. I'm not sure whether these offenders cars and houses are full of bones, or if the art of bone gnawing is just a street kinda thang. Bones do leave the same kinda mess as pup slops: a sweaty mark, ants and something that tastes and looks like shit.

Friday Feast: Bone Battle




It's time for a battle thats older than that piece of crap road crossing chicken joke: which can of liquid dreams is better with a spicy wing? Well the top one is sold by the colonel to compliment his decent breasts and thighs. But I dunno, DP has a more fruity, vomit taste, and smells like a cheap hotel room. Anywho both taste like mouthwash when chased after a lump of greasy hormones, and thats what counts. Tie.

Thursday Thigh: After School Snack



I love a healthy after school snackbox. Perfect to fill that void left by the smush they serve up in schools these days. Real potatoes and free range chicken. Nothing artificial here; even the ketchup is made by cats stomping on vine tomatoes out the back of the sanitized, cockroach free chicken shop. Actually that was I dream I had. Remember kids: Littering is IN.

Wednesday Wing: Healthy Bone




Does fruit ever come as part of a greasy chicken combo? Really? No fucking way, that's the opposite morals from what the greasy chicken is trying to achieve in the east. I'd say this banana peel is some sort of organic food preacher, dragging his lil' wrinkly skin around the streets handing out the '5-a-day Health Eating Habits Bible' from the first whiff of chicken at dawn, til he needs a cup of tea at bout 3. He also aims to cut bone's smoking habits by a third. Food Power!

Tuesday Treat: Box of Bones.



I've never seen any of those sucky tween Twilight films, and never will. But I gather this scene sums it all up. Like the movie, the chicken is the cheapest and worst quality. Secondly there are 2 bones trying to get in this dirty street corner box. Sorry loser vampires, her box is full, haven't you read the last book? Hopefully her starchy box getting boned will put a smile on her hot sourpuss face.

Monday Meal: Bin Bones




This is the Harrods of dumpster diving. Such an array of raw, rotting meats here. Its better than winning the meat tray at the country show raffle. All you crackies looking for some goods to sell for dope, just head down Bethnal Green Road to find this quarantine wheelie, tip it over and start haggling. There is even a free Lucozade, which makes this a combo meal. You might need a syringe to pick the decaying flesh outta your teeth after feasting.

Sunday Snackbox: Saucey Bones


Although a standard scattering of chicken bones, its the splattered sauce that catches the eye. What in the hell sauce is it anyway? BBQ, Hot Sauce, Nando's wanky Peri-Peri? Who gives a fuck. Any sauce makes it easier for inevitable 3am vomit at Whitechapel Road PFC to slide up your throat. Your stomach acids may even change the flavour to Sweet & Sour. Mmm...

First Bone: Bones & Butts


Sunny weekend, perfect bone spotting weather. First bone out of the box is a 'Bones & Butts'. An enticing collection of trash blown in a corner, with a token bone or two. The chewy is a nice eye catcher here too, and perfect for that spicy wing breath. Makin' me hungry for a wing just looking at it.
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