Comments on Scarfolk Council: Family Planning & Recycling (1972-1979)

I can't quite tell who's zooming who on th...

2020-05-18T20:39:07.333+01:00

I can't quite tell who's zooming who on this one.She might be having you on a bit here mate!

Dont

2018-02-07T01:25:56.981+00:00

Dont

Ahem. No, no one here is serious. This entire blog...

2015-04-25T22:43:10.953+01:00

Ahem. No, no one here is serious. This entire blog is a parody of 70s-era local council promotional and informational posters and leaflets, with a surreal twist and dark overtones. Please calm down.

For more information, please reread.

Are you all serious I cherish all 4 of my children...

2014-09-04T16:41:52.090+01:00

Are you all serious I cherish all 4 of my children and if I could of had more we would of you can never put a price on a child your children give you what you put into them nothing more nothing less there's too many people who can't have babies that want them then there's those who just throw them away.VERY SAD

Can I have a 1 day warranty for a set of 2 twins ?...

2014-08-03T13:27:45.443+01:00

Can I have a 1 day warranty for a set of 2 twins ?

2014-08-02T03:38:04.814+01:00

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

Are foreign € children accessible to this program ...

2014-07-12T11:56:30.334+01:00

Are foreign € children accessible to this program ? I have a 5 y old french curly living boy in stock. Sheeping costs refunded ?
And is the poster available somewhere ? We, non monsters, would appreciate some 'souvenir' of our cute burdenboy.

I spent many long, empty years trying to understan...

2014-07-08T23:45:46.812+01:00

I spent many long, empty years trying to understand why I was raised with several hundred other children in a garden shed on a secret experimental allotment about half a mile from Scarfolk's disused tram station. Now I know. Those endless days of living on nothing more than nettles and chickweed soup came about because I was worth no more than a tin of Pedigree Chum to my parents. So it may disappoint them to know that in 1977 I escaped 'The Hut' and married an Italian heiress. The only downside being that as soon as I passed Pedigree's recommended sell-by date I was posted back in a crate marked 'Machine Parts'. It isn't the same here as it was when I 'left'. There are fewer of us now and there are more tiny little mounds in the potato beds. But at least the Ground Elder has taken over and if you chew a handful regularly it keeps the hunger at bay. Almost. As do the beech leaves in autumn. Above all, I have the satisfaction of knowing I am a truly worthless piece of detritus. Which is more than most people do these days. Or so I'm told by representatives of the Scarfolk Multi-congregational Council who visit now and again to assess just how inferior we still are. And how much better that is than having no idea whatsoever of your value. Except for the baby Jesus. Who is beyond value. Clearly. As is his brother. One Council employee comes to check our DNA every three months and takes away five pints of blood per person to make sure the predictions are accurate. Most recently mine was down from 11.0001 to 07.0432. So I guess that's good. Maybe one day I'll get to trace my natural parents. And then kill them. Amen.