Sunday Snackbox: Bone Fraud

Nigerian scammers on Gumtree have nothing on this sly bones. If you used this cash point outside FCKF on Old Street a few weeks ago then you're probably sitting at the entrance to the station with a dog and a creased, empty Subway coffee cup with a few pence in it. Through a hi-tech system of strategically placed mirrors and a strip reader, these bones are now spending your life savings on an endless holiday in Hawaii smashing mojitos and doing the limbo with heaps of chicks.

Saturday Salmonella: Crack Gypsies Meth Emporium

This is the East Ends best kept secret. Every Friday the 13th, the Crack Gypsies sell all their little precious keepsakes. This is one of their popup stalls, and you'll find them any where between E2 and E9. There are some hell rare goodies on offer in this junkie's skunk wheeler. Bags and coats for the ladies, plenty of latenight thirst quenching drinks and some of the best food you'll find this side of Grange Hill. Haggle away, just don't get stuck with a needle as you rifle through looking for that one-off piece of magic.

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.