Imagine my surprise and delight on saturday morning to see my Brixton Crack Squirrels post quoted in The Guardian! Apparently it is a burgeoning urban legend, which is funny, because I just made it up. Not that they don’t exist, of course. If you live in Brixton long enough, and your mind works in a certain, somewhat lateral way, you are going to put crack and squirrels together. I know I did. Anyway, apparently they are a recognised phenomenon in New York and Washington.
It’s the crack foxes I’m worried about…
Brilliant. Just brilliant. Watch out for those Duvel cows in the suburbs of Brussels.
W.
Hey I saw the piece on Saturday - classic example of the “hang on, I think they *believe* it…” genre.
I lived in Brixton for years, before moving to east London, where we have crack pit bulls. It’s totally untrue that crack squirrels hang out in the grassy patch outside the Ritzy. They were too busy cooking rocks in my kitchen.
Hello my limey friend:
Fascinating…simple fascinating how they make the news. Your squirrely adventures seem to be linked to mine own…for the past month a baby squirrel has moved into the hood of my cowl.
Everyday I let him run free in the trees, play with the other squirrels, teach him the squirrelly things he needs to know, (you know, like crack is bad and pot is good) and then he comes back into my hood.
Very soon now he will be ready to take off and build a nest of his own…but not before I have them all working for me and helping to spread the message…God’s little planters.
But if you think about it…it seems only natural for someone people call “Treeman” to have a squirrel on him somewhere.