Stop Flicking V-Signs, I'm Trying To Buy A House

TWO REASONS FOR FEELING OPTIMISTIC ABOUT THE FUTURE OF EVERYTHING
ONE : BRILLIANT GRAFFITI

The artists here had several intentions; trumpeting the need to reproduce, the exposure of sexual politeness as modern social lie, the phonetic truth behind middle-class notions of spelling. But most importantly of all, they drew a suspiciously large bubble for the phrase WANNA FUK U. I’ve tried working out why that may be;
a) They meant to write it bigger
Perhaps they did, and after they’d written “WANNA” they realised that to fill the bubble would require a massive “FUK U”. Now I’m no hot sugar love machine, but I know that if a man went up to a woman, leaned into her ear, whispered “Wanna”, then took three steps back and screamed “FUK U”, the girl wouldn’t just hinge open her gumbles. She’d probably reply “I have registered your interest and will get back to you”. Then she wouldn’t get back to you at all.
b) They had more to say, but were disturbed
What can go after the phrase “wanna fuk u”? It could be any number of things – “wanna fuk u pretty sharpish”, “wanna fuck you after this yoghurt”, “wanna fuk up your chances of becoming a professional dancer, man I’m going to slice up your fukin legs”. We’ll never know, I guess. Another one of life’s dead-ends, that makes me want drive to Hollywood and punch the fuckers who made me expect closure.
c) They’re passionate but clumsy
This is how I like to think it happened. After writing “WANNA FUK U” in their best handwriting, making sure all the letters were the right shape (except the U), they took three steps back, put their thumb on their lip, conferred with a panel of seven experts, then went back to the poster to draw the speech bubble. And through some drawn-out slip of the wrist, they drew the oversized circle. Utterly out of control, and going “whoo-aaa-whooaaaaaaa” for the twenty seconds it took to draw it.
TWO : ESTATE AGENTS ARE NO LONGER INTERESTED IN MONEY

It’s reassuring to know that the decades-old stereotype has been blown apart. Foxtons no longer care about money – in fact, they no longer care about anything. They’re so alienated by the world, and disillusioned with the twee failure of 60s free love, that they’ve turned into self-destructive outcasts. Don’t expect Foxtons to sell you a house. If you so much as mention contractual terms to them, they’ll look at you, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they swore. “Piss off,” they’d say. And they wouldn’t even explain why. If you asked why, they’d just say “piss off” again – which isn’t answering your question at all.
So what do you think of this exciting branding exercise? I channeled some of your thoughts by closing my eyes and thinking of something to type.
“The house was audibly creaking, so I asked about getting a structural survey done. They told me to piss off. When I got home my back was covered in gob.” – Penny Fontaine
“That legal shit might wash in courts of so-called law, but when I’m entering a short-term tenancy agreement, I just want to know if they’re going to get all gay about me pissing in the kitchen.” – Jonny Bandana
“I said that they were being professionally negligent in failing to register the land in accordance with the 1925 acts, and they danced aggressively for six hours.” – Jumpin’ George
But what does Dennis Foxton himself think? I chopped myself into cubes, and posted myself to him, with instructions on how to reassemble me. He says he didn’t get my cock, but I carried on with the interview anyway.
FOXTONS INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT
Me: Mr Foxton, hello.
Him: HELLO YES
Me: What is with the cars Mr Foxton.
Him: Haha!
[Mr Foxton drops trousers to reveal two penisses – one is mine]
Me: MR FOXTON YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR THE THEFT OF MY PENIS
Him: Hahahahaha!
[Mr Foxton turns around. His back is bristling with the cocks of those that came before me. He leaps through a window.]
Two unresolved mysteries and I’ve just made up a story where I lost my penis. Perhaps I was wrong about everything being brilliant.