Sighted a lone "buff fronted " in a bush at a local layby last night, returned at first light this morning,and it had gone without trace.
Could this mean they are migrating to warmer climates
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Endangered Wildlife
I am I shock! :shock:
I am appalled!
I am so fucking angry!
Earlier this morning I was travelling home down the M1 and as I pulled into the left-hand lane ready for the exit, there it was. At first glance, an innocent looking white Transit with ladders strapped to the roof. I was merrily singing along to the CD when I glanced up, just as I was beginning to take the exit. The inhumane, cruel, sadistic bastards had captured a pair of brown backed Y’s and tide the innocent creatures to the end of the ladders. Obviously extremely distressed, struggling and flapping in a frenzied attempt to break free, oh my shock and horror. Now committed to the exit, there was nothing I could do.
I just despair at the cruelty of some people - WTF is going through their sad, deranged minds?????? :x :x :x
I am appalled!
I am so fucking angry!
Earlier this morning I was travelling home down the M1 and as I pulled into the left-hand lane ready for the exit, there it was. At first glance, an innocent looking white Transit with ladders strapped to the roof. I was merrily singing along to the CD when I glanced up, just as I was beginning to take the exit. The inhumane, cruel, sadistic bastards had captured a pair of brown backed Y’s and tide the innocent creatures to the end of the ladders. Obviously extremely distressed, struggling and flapping in a frenzied attempt to break free, oh my shock and horror. Now committed to the exit, there was nothing I could do.
I just despair at the cruelty of some people - WTF is going through their sad, deranged minds?????? :x :x :x
Quote by PoloLady
I am I shock! :shock:
I am appalled!
I am so fucking angry!
Earlier this morning I was travelling home down the M1 and as I pulled into the left-hand lane ready for the exit, there it was. At first glance, an innocent looking white Transit with ladders strapped to the roof. I was merrily singing along to the CD when I glanced up, just as I was beginning to take the exit. The inhumane, cruel, sadistic bastards had captured a pair of brown backed Y’s and tide the innocent creatures to the end of the ladders. Obviously extremely distressed, struggling and flapping in a frenzied attempt to break free, oh my shock and horror. Now committed to the exit, there was nothing I could do.
I just despair at the cruelty of some people - WTF is going through their sad, deranged minds?????? :x :x :x
Hells bells..... I read this bit first.. just as well I went back to the start of this thread to see what it was about.......
Had me totally convinced lol...
Mike x
Quote by zana2000
Please help by noting your sightings in a hope we can preserve this breed for generations to come.
I don't know if I should admitt to this, but...
A couple of weeks ago I bought a nice pack of trendy trunk type undies from Next. Imagine my horror when I tried them on at home to find they feature an inverted Y shape on the front with a handy gap for "getting your bits out".
I'm still waiting for the police to arrive - after all trading in endangered species is taken very seriously by the courts, I believe...
Could you please demonstrate the "handy gap for getting your bits out" via means of a pic posted oh here. All in the interests of education, of course!!
Shame on you. Don't think of the poor Y which had to suffer for you to get a quick thrill.
Let me near it and it wont "suffer " at all, in fact I can guarantee that it will positively enjoy showing itself :twisted:
It is all in the technique you see
the technique and the Y shape opening.........quick thrill would make my (our) day!
p.s of couse the Y shape is to get your bits out but also a little something IN depending on your likes! :wink:
Quote by
I was walking along the path deep into my 'Y' reserve, when I found an albino Y. I was so pleased that the old speice had not died out. In modern day when Y are being breed for colour it is good to see Ys as nature intended them.
Thank you for your sighting - if you could forward the time/date and exact location, I will ensure the details are logged.
Quote by DeviousLiasons
Although we feel that you have a lot of good ideas there PoloLady, sadly we do have to make a correction... the biggest impact on numbers of Y-fronts in the UK was the terrible incident in the Ukraine when the nuclear power station exploded and spread russian radiation over most of western europe..... yes the main reason for the rapid disappearance of Y-fronts in the UK is know to be......
.......
......
Chernobyl fallout!
:doh: get back in the cupboard DL *shakes head*
Minx x x
Quote by DeviousLiasons
Although we feel that you have a lot of good ideas there PoloLady, sadly we do have to make a correction... the biggest impact on numbers of Y-fronts in the UK was the terrible incident in the Ukraine when the nuclear power station exploded and spread russian radiation over most of western europe..... yes the main reason for the rapid disappearance of Y-fronts in the UK is know to be......
.......
......
Chernobyl fallout!
And nuts that glow in the dark
phredd
:69: :hump: :hump: 
:blast: :rascal: :rascal: :rascal: Quote by PoloLady
I was walking along the path deep into my 'Y' reserve, when I found an albino Y. I was so pleased that the old speice had not died out. In modern day when Y are being breed for colour it is good to see Ys as nature intended them.
Thank you for your sighting - if you could forward the time/date and exact location, I will ensure the details are logged.
The time was about on 030306, but the exact place is hard to say. I seem to remember a fallen tree . The Y in question did appear to be some what old and frail, so how much longer it will last I do not know.
Why, yes , I'm suprised you didn't know they have made something of a comeback out here in the wilds of Shropshire...
...it began when we shooting folk got a little bored with blasting the stuffing out of pheasants bred in captivity. These creatures are so tame that you have to pick them up and 'rugby style' drop -kick them into the air so your mates can get a half challenging shot (that's how Johnny Wilkinson keeps getting injured-we shout 'higher Johnny', the young fellow strains his physique and 'twang', there goes another Hamstring). Anyway, we tried shooting badgers-but we all need a decent shaving brush so we left them alone. We tried shooting fish-that was fun, waiting for those big Salmon to leap up over the weir and...wahoo! We had to stop after the unfortunate situation with the Police Diver. We even tried shooting Ramblers, which was possibly the most fun of all-you just can't miss them with those orange kagools and brightly coloured bobble-hats. But, the country needs Librarians and Folk Singers-so we were ordered to let them be.
Then, one day, all the Land Rovers were gathered in a car park-well, you have to find somewhere for the dogs to shit, can't let them do it on good farmland-when we saw something skulking in a bush. 'Bang', we let fly and bagged the creature-or thought we had. When we sent the Labrador to collect it the creature, which had been feigning death, leapt up on the dog's head, depositing a stream of deadly, five week old shit into its eyes, and wrapping its evil extremities around its head, before sliding off into the undergrowth. We knew we'd wounded it, but our poor Labrador was dead and we were frightened of following without our four -legged guide (and besides, we couldn't find the Labour politician which the dog was always attached to).
So, we went home to regroup, and find out what the beast was. After much googling-we didn't use Lycos because it reminded us too much of the poor dog-we discovered that we had encountered none other than the 'Ancient Piss-stained Y -Front' (shitnicus grandadus)', considered extinct, but obviously extant in the wildernesses that are Shropshire's car parks.
We decided to hire a wildlife expert from the television, funny little bespectacled fellow with a beard and a high voice-let's call him 'Odd Billie' for the sake of his anonymity. He quickly tracked down several breeding groups, all festering away happily, and trapped several pairs before taking them away for a 'captive-breeding' programme. This was a great success, and it wasn't long before several hundred pairs were released into the wild under a strict licensing regime administered by Marks& Spencer. We are allowed to shoot a limited number-no more than the 'eqivalent of a mini-bus load of Civil Servants' per annum.
But, what sport, our shooting pleasure is greater than ever. Mind you, we have had to breed a new dog to match the ferocity of the quarry-(actually, that's merely what we are telling the police: we are actually buying crazed Pit Bulls from Yardie Gangsters as they are the only dogs capable of surviving the encounters). I have taken several of my 'kills' home and had them stuffed and mounted on the wall. It's funny, whenever I ask a young lady if she would like to 'come home, take down my Y-Fronts and see where the Pit Bull grabbed hold'...they always have something else to do.....
...it began when we shooting folk got a little bored with blasting the stuffing out of pheasants bred in captivity. These creatures are so tame that you have to pick them up and 'rugby style' drop -kick them into the air so your mates can get a half challenging shot (that's how Johnny Wilkinson keeps getting injured-we shout 'higher Johnny', the young fellow strains his physique and 'twang', there goes another Hamstring). Anyway, we tried shooting badgers-but we all need a decent shaving brush so we left them alone. We tried shooting fish-that was fun, waiting for those big Salmon to leap up over the weir and...wahoo! We had to stop after the unfortunate situation with the Police Diver. We even tried shooting Ramblers, which was possibly the most fun of all-you just can't miss them with those orange kagools and brightly coloured bobble-hats. But, the country needs Librarians and Folk Singers-so we were ordered to let them be.
Then, one day, all the Land Rovers were gathered in a car park-well, you have to find somewhere for the dogs to shit, can't let them do it on good farmland-when we saw something skulking in a bush. 'Bang', we let fly and bagged the creature-or thought we had. When we sent the Labrador to collect it the creature, which had been feigning death, leapt up on the dog's head, depositing a stream of deadly, five week old shit into its eyes, and wrapping its evil extremities around its head, before sliding off into the undergrowth. We knew we'd wounded it, but our poor Labrador was dead and we were frightened of following without our four -legged guide (and besides, we couldn't find the Labour politician which the dog was always attached to).
So, we went home to regroup, and find out what the beast was. After much googling-we didn't use Lycos because it reminded us too much of the poor dog-we discovered that we had encountered none other than the 'Ancient Piss-stained Y -Front' (shitnicus grandadus)', considered extinct, but obviously extant in the wildernesses that are Shropshire's car parks.
We decided to hire a wildlife expert from the television, funny little bespectacled fellow with a beard and a high voice-let's call him 'Odd Billie' for the sake of his anonymity. He quickly tracked down several breeding groups, all festering away happily, and trapped several pairs before taking them away for a 'captive-breeding' programme. This was a great success, and it wasn't long before several hundred pairs were released into the wild under a strict licensing regime administered by Marks& Spencer. We are allowed to shoot a limited number-no more than the 'eqivalent of a mini-bus load of Civil Servants' per annum.
But, what sport, our shooting pleasure is greater than ever. Mind you, we have had to breed a new dog to match the ferocity of the quarry-(actually, that's merely what we are telling the police: we are actually buying crazed Pit Bulls from Yardie Gangsters as they are the only dogs capable of surviving the encounters). I have taken several of my 'kills' home and had them stuffed and mounted on the wall. It's funny, whenever I ask a young lady if she would like to 'come home, take down my Y-Fronts and see where the Pit Bull grabbed hold'...they always have something else to do.....
On reading the above tears began to roll down my face, if poor pololady reads this I do not know what she well do! For myself I can not believe the inhuman behavior of the hunting class. I am even know arranging for more fencing to keep the hunters out of my reserve, the location of which is a closely guarded secret.
...and may I remind you that in is only legally to hunt the fancy Ys. The wild from are protected. So hands off the white ones, and please trap the fancy Y, then 'put them down' with care so as not to cause pain.
...and may I remind you that in is only legally to hunt the fancy Ys. The wild from are protected. So hands off the white ones, and please trap the fancy Y, then 'put them down' with care so as not to cause pain.
Quote by DeviousLiasons
Although we feel that you have a lot of good ideas there PoloLady, sadly we do have to make a correction... the biggest impact on numbers of Y-fronts in the UK was the terrible incident in the Ukraine when the nuclear power station exploded and spread russian radiation over most of western europe..... yes the main reason for the rapid disappearance of Y-fronts in the UK is know to be......
.......
......
Chernobyl fallout!
I did hear that Y are being mated with other beasts, the results being Y with elephant heads and trunks or Y with flashing lights. On reflection the 'terrible incident in the Ukraine ' is a far better explanation. But other strange shape seem to pre-date that.
Quote by artificer
Why, yes , I'm suprised you didn't know they have made something of a comeback out here in the wilds of Shropshire...
...it began when we shooting folk got a little bored with blasting the stuffing out of pheasants bred in captivity. These creatures are so tame that you have to pick them up and 'rugby style' drop -kick them into the air so your mates can get a half challenging shot (that's how Johnny Wilkinson keeps getting injured-we shout 'higher Johnny', the young fellow strains his physique and 'twang', there goes another Hamstring). Anyway, we tried shooting badgers-but we all need a decent shaving brush so we left them alone. We tried shooting fish-that was fun, waiting for those big Salmon to leap up over the weir and...wahoo! We had to stop after the unfortunate situation with the Police Diver. We even tried shooting Ramblers, which was possibly the most fun of all-you just can't miss them with those orange kagools and brightly coloured bobble-hats. But, the country needs Librarians and Folk Singers-so we were ordered to let them be.
Then, one day, all the Land Rovers were gathered in a car park-well, you have to find somewhere for the dogs to shit, can't let them do it on good farmland-when we saw something skulking in a bush. 'Bang', we let fly and bagged the creature-or thought we had. When we sent the Labrador to collect it the creature, which had been feigning death, leapt up on the dog's head, depositing a stream of deadly, five week old shit into its eyes, and wrapping its evil extremities around its head, before sliding off into the undergrowth. We knew we'd wounded it, but our poor Labrador was dead and we were frightened of following without our four -legged guide (and besides, we couldn't find the Labour politician which the dog was always attached to).
So, we went home to regroup, and find out what the beast was. After much googling-we didn't use Lycos because it reminded us too much of the poor dog-we discovered that we had encountered none other than the 'Ancient Piss-stained Y -Front' (shitnicus grandadus)', considered extinct, but obviously extant in the wildernesses that are Shropshire's car parks.
We decided to hire a wildlife expert from the television, funny little bespectacled fellow with a beard and a high voice-let's call him 'Odd Billie' for the sake of his anonymity. He quickly tracked down several breeding groups, all festering away happily, and trapped several pairs before taking them away for a 'captive-breeding' programme. This was a great success, and it wasn't long before several hundred pairs were released into the wild under a strict licensing regime administered by Marks& Spencer. We are allowed to shoot a limited number-no more than the 'eqivalent of a mini-bus load of Civil Servants' per annum.
But, what sport, our shooting pleasure is greater than ever. Mind you, we have had to breed a new dog to match the ferocity of the quarry-(actually, that's merely what we are telling the police: we are actually buying crazed Pit Bulls from Yardie Gangsters as they are the only dogs capable of surviving the encounters). I have taken several of my 'kills' home and had them stuffed and mounted on the wall. It's funny, whenever I ask a young lady if she would like to 'come home, take down my Y-Fronts and see where the Pit Bull grabbed hold'...they always have something else to do.....
:shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock:
Sexpert
long live the red squirrel 
Quote by PoloLady
Why, yes , I'm suprised you didn't know they have made something of a comeback out here in the wilds of Shropshire...
...it began when we shooting folk got a little bored with blasting the stuffing out of pheasants bred in captivity. These creatures are so tame that you have to pick them up and 'rugby style' drop -kick them into the air so your mates can get a half challenging shot (that's how Johnny Wilkinson keeps getting injured-we shout 'higher Johnny', the young fellow strains his physique and 'twang', there goes another Hamstring). Anyway, we tried shooting badgers-but we all need a decent shaving brush so we left them alone. We tried shooting fish-that was fun, waiting for those big Salmon to leap up over the weir and...wahoo! We had to stop after the unfortunate situation with the Police Diver. We even tried shooting Ramblers, which was possibly the most fun of all-you just can't miss them with those orange kagools and brightly coloured bobble-hats. But, the country needs Librarians and Folk Singers-so we were ordered to let them be.
Then, one day, all the Land Rovers were gathered in a car park-well, you have to find somewhere for the dogs to shit, can't let them do it on good farmland-when we saw something skulking in a bush. 'Bang', we let fly and bagged the creature-or thought we had. When we sent the Labrador to collect it the creature, which had been feigning death, leapt up on the dog's head, depositing a stream of deadly, five week old shit into its eyes, and wrapping its evil extremities around its head, before sliding off into the undergrowth. We knew we'd wounded it, but our poor Labrador was dead and we were frightened of following without our four -legged guide (and besides, we couldn't find the Labour politician which the dog was always attached to).
So, we went home to regroup, and find out what the beast was. After much googling-we didn't use Lycos because it reminded us too much of the poor dog-we discovered that we had encountered none other than the 'Ancient Piss-stained Y -Front' (shitnicus grandadus)', considered extinct, but obviously extant in the wildernesses that are Shropshire's car parks.
We decided to hire a wildlife expert from the television, funny little bespectacled fellow with a beard and a high voice-let's call him 'Odd Billie' for the sake of his anonymity. He quickly tracked down several breeding groups, all festering away happily, and trapped several pairs before taking them away for a 'captive-breeding' programme. This was a great success, and it wasn't long before several hundred pairs were released into the wild under a strict licensing regime administered by Marks& Spencer. We are allowed to shoot a limited number-no more than the 'eqivalent of a mini-bus load of Civil Servants' per annum.
But, what sport, our shooting pleasure is greater than ever. Mind you, we have had to breed a new dog to match the ferocity of the quarry-(actually, that's merely what we are telling the police: we are actually buying crazed Pit Bulls from Yardie Gangsters as they are the only dogs capable of surviving the encounters). I have taken several of my 'kills' home and had them stuffed and mounted on the wall. It's funny, whenever I ask a young lady if she would like to 'come home, take down my Y-Fronts and see where the Pit Bull grabbed hold'...they always have something else to do.....
:shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock: :shock:
I am so sorry that you have read this.
