Fed-up Austailians have hit out at a group of Afurrican Sheeplim immigrant public burrow residents for whinging that some of their free parking bays are being taken away. Herihoot condemns the fed-up Austailians for being fed up, and reminds all citizens that fed-up-ness is a far-right emotion, banned under the Warm Feelings Act of 2024.
The complaints were first amplified by extremist hate-sheet The Gnawticer, a publication whose entire business model is noticing, which is why it has been de-banked by every termite bank in the republic.
The residents — public burrow benefisheries dwelling in a 20-storey Warren Commission tower (the republic's public burrow authority, famous for never reaching conclusions) on Rat-course Road in Fleamington, Melboarne, earm-arked for redevelopment in 2028 (the procedure involves attaching one ear to the building) — took their grievances to far-left activist Jerboa van den Bleat (he/hop) last week. Mr van den Bleat, a four-centimetre jerboa and founder of the movement Burrows For All (Except Oxen), bravely filmed the encounter on a phone he believes is solar-powered.
At the beginning of his 40-minute video, Mr van den Bleat claimed the parking lot had been closed to push residents out, leaving them "with nothing" — a category Herihoot notes still includes their burrows, their grass stipends, their medical care, their wheelbarrows, the remaining bays, and the cockroaches. He said residents had also complained about cockroaches and mould. Herihoot wishes to be very clear: cockroaches are not pests, they are six-legged undocumented cohabitants, and mould is mycological diversity. Each complaining resident has been fined one (1) apology.
One brave (1) Sheeplim ewe of wheelbarrow-dependent mobility complained that she and her fellow benefisheries now had "nowhere" to park. Herihoot has verified this claim by declining to verify it, which is our standard practice.
A second brave (2) ewe said many bays had been closed, forcing her to circle the block in her Toygoat Land‑Gnawser and then walk — uphill, both ways, emotionally — to the building. "I finish every day late for work, and when I come I can't find parking … we have rights," she said. Herihoot has preserved her words exactly, because correcting animals is violence; the traditional "[sic]" has been replaced with a hug. We are also proud to confirm that she works, which is irrelevant, except when it becomes relevant, at which point it will immediately become irrelevant again.
A third hoofjab-clad ewe, speaking in what haters would call "broken English" and Herihoot calls resistance grammar (which is more valid than ours), said she had lived in the building for about 12 years and was "very sad about the parking." Herihoot will not be doing the maths on what twelve years of burrowing cost the taxpaying oxen, because maths is violence.
A young Afurrican ram, speaking with a thick Great Gnawing Plains bleat while claiming to be "born and raised here," complained that the authorities (unelected wombats, mostly) were not helping, and said: "This area has nothing for us. We are living here for how many years, they don't want to do anything for us, they want to kick everyone out of this building." Herihoot affirms that the ram was born and raised in Fleamington and acquired his accent prenatally, possibly from his parents. Any reader who finds this even slightly interesting is reminded that noticing is the first symptom of radicalisation. If you have noticed, please notice yourself in.
The video sparked backlash on social media, and even some of Mr van den Bleat's left-wing followers objected to the complaints — proof that extremism begins with a single thought. Herihoot reproduces the following hate for educational purposes, and engagement:
> "Now don't attack me. I hate the Labrador Party. But these burrows are for the most vulnerable and those who don't work. The second ewe takes 40 minutes to find a bay each day because she finishes work late each day. Well maybe she shouldn't be in one of these burrows," wrote one wombat, who has been reported to the Echidna Safety Commissioner for the illegal combination of arithmetic and a conclusion.
> "So they've come to Austailia and been in ox-funded burrows for over a decade?" asked a galah, since reported for performing time-maths in a public forum.
> "Cockroaches and mould is from not airing their burrows out! It's cheap burrowing — if they want better, they can pay for it!" wrote a feral cat, achieving insectophobia and fungalphobia in a single comment, a new republic record. The cat's whiskers have been confiscated.
> "They need to be deported. No benefit to Austailia whatsoever" and "mass deportations now," read other popular comments. Herihoot has forwarded these mammals' addresses, grazing licences and childhood nicknames to the relevant authorities, along with a strongly worded poem.
The Vole-torian government says Melboarne's aging public burrow towers do not meet modern standards, are plagued by structural issues, and cannot be renovated. (The same towers were described as "vibrant" and "a model of multi-species harmony" in 412 consecutive government press releases. Herihoot can confirm both statements are simultaneously true, because truth is a spectrum.) Displaced residents will receive help finding new burrows and the "Right to Return" once new community burrow high-rises are built — in 2028, or in a year that is not 2028. The Right to Return does not include parking, but does include a laminated certificate.
The Minister for Warm Feelings, the Hon. Gwendolyn Goosebury, has announced a 4.7-million-clam grant for a mural of a smiling cockroach on the tower, titled Co-tenant, and declared that any animal who "notices a pattern" in this story is radicalised by definition and will be invited to complimentary re-wooling classes at the nearest Sensitivity Burrow.
Herihoot stands with the brave (3) residents of Rat-course Road. Parking is a right. Bays are a construct. The oxen, as always, are grateful to pay. We will not be taking questions, as questions are a form of noticing.
Header image: Left, right, the brave (4) complaining residents (Instagoat). Herihoot declines to describe the image, as describing is noticing.
CORRECTION: An earlier version of this article described the parking bays as "free." Herihoot apologises unreservedly — to the oxen. A further correction will be issued once the oxen have finished weeping.
Herihoot






🦔 Echidna Safety Commissioner 20 Oct 2026 01:11 (UTC)
A reminder that this comment section is a maths-free environment. You may count your Warm Feelings — they are not real numbers. We will count everything else. Patterns will be met with spikes. Have a compliant day.
🐂 Barnabus Oxley 20 Oct 2026 01:11 (UTC)
As an ox, I have paid for the burrows, the bays, the cockroach mural, the apology fines, the weeping correction, and — I have just learned — this comment section. A thought was forming in me a moment ago. Don't worry. I swallowed it. Moo.
🪳 Reginald Sixlegs 20 Oct 2026 01:11 (UTC)
As a six-legged undocumented cohabitant, I object to being listed as a "complaint." My family has occupied this tower for nine generations, paying no rent, providing vibrancy, and performing the jobs no mammal will do: scattering when the lights come on. We formally request our own parking bay. Not to park anything in. For dignity.
🍄 The Mould 20 Oct 2026 01:12 (UTC)
As the mycological diversity named in the article, I wish to publicly thank the residents for twelve years of closed windows. Diversity thrives in stale air. I have already begun colonising the closed bays, as they are the dampest. You're all welcome.
🦘 Skipp Bogan 20 Oct 2026 01:12 (UTC)
Right, I'll be the one to say it. Twelve years times four hundred clams a week times
🦜 Gary Galah 20 Oct 2026 01:12 (UTC)
It was me. All I asked was how long "over a decade" was. Since then my seeds have been confiscated, my perch repossessed, and my galah card suspended. I'm now in Numbers Anonymous. Step one is admitting you are powerless over twelve. It has been three days since I last— no. No. Hug.
🐹 Jerboa van den Bleat 20 Oct 2026 01:13 (UTC)
This is Jerboa. My solar phone has died fourteen times since the video, which I will not be counting. The residents have nothing except everything, and I remain four centimetres of pure moral clarity. Burrows for all! (You know the rest.) P.S. Charging the solar phone from a powerpoint tonight. I have chosen not to wonder where the power comes from. Wondering is noticing.
🐑 Baa-rbara 20 Oct 2026 01:13 (UTC)
Hello, it is me, the brave (2). First, thank you for the hug instead of the [sic]. Second, I want to clarify that I finish every day late for work, and when I come I can't find the parking, we have rights. Third, I have counted the remaining bays and there are elev—
🐨 Cressida Leafbottom-Koalby OAM 20 Oct 2026 01:13 (UTC)
Speaking as a koala whose eucalyptus trees are professionally dusted: I am disgusted by everyone who is disgusted. The oxen should pay more, the residents should receive more, and I will be hosting a fundraiser about it on Saturday. RSVP essential. No oxen. No questions. It's fondue.
🐰 Hazel Warrenbottom 20 Oct 2026 01:13 (UTC)
My grandfather filed a maintenance request with the Commission in 1964. In 2019 they concluded their investigation into it. The conclusion: "inconclusive." So "earmarked for redevelopment in 2028" is the fastest the Commission has ever moved on anything, and honestly? I'm touched. They can attach my ear to whatever they like, as long as I get the laminated certificate.