Friday, 30 January 2009

WHO WANTS A FUCKING TSHIRT THEN??????????????????




At last, it's all fallen into place. 

Storm Lonsdale drew it, Alex Simwise wore it and Tom Beard took photos of it. More of these shots to come. Drop us a line on the email if you want one, they're a tenner or so, I haven't worked out how we'll post them yet but that'll happen.

FILF

My buddy Bill Philip who I spent many happy years dossing at art school with has a website called Fotos I'd Like to Fuck, it's almost impossible to navigate but once you get the hang of it you'll be rewarded with his somewhat bleak and impenetrable worldview brought to you via the mediums of photo, collage and video. 

Bill has never owned a mobile phone, is engaged to be married, dresses impeccably, has a very specific remit of what music he is prepared to listen to (it's something like September 1964 to March 1975) and has kept count of the amount of wanks he's ever had in his life.







Here is are two recent photos of Bill that I borrowed from his facebook:



Wednesday, 28 January 2009

Saturday 7th February - Globe, West London

There’s only one big name dj on this flyer boyeeeee – O’Real!!!

If you haven’t been to the Globe before, you really should. There’s a guy who hangs out wearing FULL camouflage, including string vests, Timberland boots and caps. Fuck knows how you make a patterned string vest, but it really works. Anyway, there’s good food, really good music (obvs), loads of dancing and ‘wicked vibes’.

Friday 30th Jan - Old Blue Last


some of us are djing at the Old Blue Last on Friday night, this week. It'll be fun and also have the debut performance of FOG (Fuck Off God).

Rayner's flyer designs are on some Next Level Shit these days, I think you'll agree.

God Bless the Pope




Tantrum

Tuesday, 27 January 2009

BOUND FEET





High heeled feet!

In the old days they used to love to fuck the gap between the heel and the other bit.

Monday, 26 January 2009

And you thought you were wasting your time...


Flicking through this guy’s website is an excruciating experience. See, he’s taken on what is ostensibly a pretty cool and enviable task of reviewing every pub in Britain. So you’d be forgiven for thinking he’s a bit of a ‘livewire’, who in his reviews shares some of the hilarious anecdotes that he’s picked up from all over the country. And given the fact that he’s putting a hell of a lot of effort into this, you would think he’s done a lot of reading around the area. You know, maybe read that McCarthy’s Bar book (and I’m sure Bill Bryson has done something similar to this) and realised that he should probably try his hardest to go one better than them and maybe have a quirky twist on the whole idea.

There’s really so much potential in the whole concept that his head must have been swimming with ideas about funny puns he could make with the idiosyncratic names of local ales, or tales of boozed up locals talking nonsense to him, or even explore the darker side of local pubs (badger-baiting, bare-knuckle boxing, cock-fighting, that sort of thing)... Shit, it’s getting me excited even thinking about the possibilities!

However, much like a fat child who can’t make his mind up in a sweet shop he came home empty handed. The reviews are exceptionally dull and so unreliable that one has to question if he even bothered in going to a single pub during the site’s construction. Take this appalling review of The Court pub in Goodge Street for example. A Scream bar as “trendy”?? Who even uses that word anymore?? And “Upon entering you will find the place to be moderately busy”… Really? Don’t you think that might depend on the time or day you fucking go there??

Well done for spending so long creating a completely useless guide to pubs in Britain. What a waste of fucking time.

ZIT POPPING

I had an ingrowing hair on my cheek (from my beard), but now it's gone under the skin and it's all hard and it's really bugging me cos I feel like it's turned into a cyst but I can't squeeze it cos it's too far under the skin. I think if I could get a pin and really get in there with it and then squeeze it some really great stuff would come out. I hardly ever get decent spots anymore and I really miss that incredibly intense feeling of satisfaction that you get as the solid, almost dry white shit fires out onto the mirror and you can hear it exit your skin. The only substitute for that sensation is watching other people squeeze their spots on Youtube. Here are my top 3 Zit Pop videos..




I would let this girl pop my zits all day long. Hubba hubba, as Chris might say..


I think Ashton Kutcher is filming this one. "Oh. My. GOD! DOOOOOD!...Dude, that is... ewwww"


Oh my fucking christ.

Friday, 23 January 2009

Photoshop Disasters

Yes, I know you've already got the site bookmarked and check it everyday... I'm just giving you a reminder to make sure that you tell your friends about it too, because maybe they don't.




Amanda Knox. Sexiest Murderer Ever?


Well, I can easily see how someone could get involved in a “sex game that went too far” with this little hot rod – woof woof!

But I really can’t see her murdering someone. She looks so sweet. It’s probably for the best that I don’t live in Perugia, or am a native Italian, or there’s a slight chance I might be on the jury for her trial. I don’t think there’s any image I could dream up that would put a dampener on my arousal at hearing her talk dirty whilst under oath. If it got necro, there’s no chance I’d be able to stop myself from jerking off during the case… especially if she started crying in the witness box. That would be so hot.

ALSO - OLD BLUE = TRES URBAN

I am shure this is the roof of the Old Blue..

As is this:

Drunk Grime Post - COVERED IN RED LIKE A PORTION OF CHIPS

I like these guys:
BIG H

GHETTO -

HOLLOW MAN(THANKS BOB)PECKNAM - GREAT COAT

TRIM-


CHECK OUT PRANCEHALL'S FLICKR FOR PICTURE OF URBANE YOUNG MEN:HERE...

VIDEO POST

Yes yes, I know video posts are a fucking nauz because you can't really watch them at work, but man up, it's a Friday and I bet you're hungover, you can get away with slipping your headphones into the jack for three minutes on your lunch. No one who reads this does anything other than graphic design or media work, neither of which is exactly make or break stuff for the world at large, so relax y'self. If your boss doesn't like it, tell him to go fuck himself.



Have a nice weekend.

Thursday, 22 January 2009

Band Photos


Having ended 2008 with about 10,000 photos (literally) of the year, the onus is really on for 'something exciting to be happening', so they'll actually be of interest to people in years to come like these pictures of Oasis. Say what you like about Oasis, but early band photos are amazing.

Fact is, I'm pretty sure no one will care about 1,500 pictures of me drunk in a club.

Pretty unrelated, but I can't stop listening to this Luther Vandross song. You should watch the video on youtube (some DICKHEAD has made embedding forbidden on it), cos for the most boring video i've ever seen, it has the power to completely arrest you and make you watch the whole thing. Maybe that's due to how much I love the song though.

Luther Vandross - Never Too Much (Right-Click to Save)

Girls Who Don't Wear Tampons


MAKE ME SICK

Wednesday, 21 January 2009

CRACK NUTS LIKE A TRUE PLAYER

video

It's as simple as that, bitches.

Morph


When I was little I was pretty sure Tony Hart was David Attenborough's brother, turns out he wasn't, Richard Attenborough was -and Art Attack was Tony Hart for the MTV generation, I think you'll agree. His death is a reminder that the gentler pace of life is slowly ebbing away, or something.

Monday, 19 January 2009

hahahahahahahahahahahahahhahaa

Falling or tripping over in public is not in itself embarrassing; it happens to everyone and you can always laugh about it with your friends or whoever else you’re with (and it’s good fun for them cos they get to go “wahay!! yeah!!” which is always fun).

What is embarrassing is the moment after you trip over by yourself. It’s funny for people who see you because they’re laughing at how much of a loser you are and your complete ineptitude to even walk in a straight line. They’re laughing at you because you are a joke. So whilst you think that by breaking out into a grin you’re making yourself look cool and breezy like you couldn’t care less… what’s really happening is that you’re effectively laughing at your own joke whilst also admitting that you’re a cripple unable to perform even the most simple tasks. aka a fucking a loser.

Anyway, one thing I’d definitely recommend you don’t do to shirk any potential embarrassment is act like this guy… When I saw him stack it down the stairs in a pub in Camden I (of course) immediately took a photo. When he finally made it to the bottom he came over to me and said “most guys would help a brother out. But you took a photo. I hope you burn in hell”. Hahahahahahahahaa. Sorry bud, someone taking life maybe a little too seriously these days?? Admit it, you’re such a fuck up that you can’t even walk down a set of stairs without fucking up! hahahahahahahahah

LIFESAVER

Oh, thank God!! There were one or two issues of the Sunday Sport that I’ve missed over the past 15 years, but ‘Praise Be!’ this seller on eBay just happened to be selling a few mint condition copies that I could pick up for cheap! I really don’t know what I would do with all that space in my bedroom if it wasn’t filled with (roughly) 5,460 copies of this newspaper. Needless to say, I think my understanding of women’s bra measurements and complete fucking nonsense would be nowhere near its currently excellent level.

Sunday, 18 January 2009

Mr Moneybags


Here is a Beenie Man/swing mashup made by someone who dresses like a disheveled aristocrat, at one point was squatting a seven million pound mansion in Chelsea and hates work with a fervent passion. For some reason stuff like this is the kind of thing east London hates, possibly because it has absolutely nothing to do with New York in the early eighties and everything to do with actual fun. God bless you Russell.

Friday, 16 January 2009

Smellarific
















I tried to explain this to Max and Jose last night in the pub and really struggled to get my point across as I’m not sure I totally grasp the end of the argument…

Anyway, long story short – babies have a good sense of smell, your individual smell tells a lot of info about you, you’re attracted to people who smell different to you, wearing perfume alters that.

But you really should read the whole thing, it’s quite good.

Thursday, 15 January 2009

Toots and the Gayhands

Dan Freeman had his flickr's url up in his facebook status thing so I was going through it and I found these, which are all characters for some comic he did a few years ago called Toots and the Gayhands. I remember thinking how jokes these little guys were then and they are still funny as hell. I'm sure he'd rather you look at his more recent work, which is also great. (Click on them to make them bigger...)

Cash for Coprology

I presume everyone does this at least one time in their life; but I know I have always made fairly rough estimates of ‘how much I’ve just been paid to take a dump’ whilst at work. The maths is fairly simple. Work out your rate per hour and divide that by the total time on the toilet. However, the margin for error on both these counts leaves plenty of room for error. For a start, I don’t wear a watch, so my reading of how long I’ve been gone for can only be roughly guessed by looking at the minute hand of the clock on the wall, which is imprecise at best. And who knows who you’ll bump into on the way! Don’t forget that also counts as time away from your desk when you should be working.

So if you were ever unsure of how best to calculate this vital ‘price per poo’, you’ve just found a solution… This website lets you time the exact length of time you’re away from your desk and calculates how much you’ve just been paid for it. Just make sure you hide it on your desktop or any passers-by will think you’re the fucking biggest loser ever and won’t offer you cakes when it’s their birthday.

Noodles and Dogging

I only just noticed yesterday that googlemail targets the adverts down the side of your inbox according to the kind of words you tend to email about. I get emails about Noodles and Broth. Ergo, I get emails about Noodles shops. Fair enough.

BUT DOGGING?? WTF? No one has ever emailed me about that. Why do I get linked with that shit?

Wednesday, 14 January 2009

Short Cartoons in Viz


are one of my favourite things in the world. 'Recently Divorced Mouse', 'Ron Moody and his Violent Mood Swings'... sure they can be pretty hit and miss (just like the Letters), but when they get it right it's worth the £3 fee alone.

Snopes

I hate Snopes.com for a variety of reasons, firstly, me looking at the well-known urban legend website signals that I have exhausted all other internet time-wasting avenues such as blogs, ghost websites, facebook etc -it is my last port of call before I come to the realization that it is time to go to bed/get on with work, it is a depressing sign that I am clutching at straws.

Secondly, it is a source of two kinds of disappointment for me, for not only does it prove all genuinely interesting urban legends to be utterly false (Coca-Cola cannot dissolve a tooth overnight) but it is also only updated with 'legends' about circular emails that might contain viruses, leading me to think that the staff there have gotten lazy.  

Thirdly, the admin on this site is clearly some kind of right-wing lunatic, the politics, religion and military sections are less a collection of urban legends and more a tear-jerkingly patriotic/Jesus-centic series of parables and told-you-so's. They really have to be seen to be believed.  

On the other hand, however, this, this and this are all pretty interesting.

(And that's the guy who's been stealing all the kidneys, btw)

Tuesday, 13 January 2009

Work spaces



I finally tidied up my desk. I have been putting it off for some time. The best / most worrying part of the clear up was finding all the shards of wood, plastic, pens, pencils, coffee stirers and plastic cutlery that I had chewed and dropped. They had settled bellow the reams of paper on my desk like so much foliage ready to be compressed into coal and oil by time and pressure from mounting detritus. Thankfully I caught it before it became a potentially explosive tar pit. Maybe this is why my teeth are totally fucked...

Monday, 12 January 2009

A-Team at Catch

A few of us played A-Team at Catch last Thursday. As soon as I stopped playing music loads of people turned up and it got fun. That was always going to be the case given the quality of music on show though:
The crowd even had the chance to get excited and crowdsurf to Phil Collins, which ended in this:
And somehow this appeared:
and turned into this:

There's a few more I probably shouldn't put up...

What Does and Doesn't Constitute a Gay Bar

I suppose this is only relevant to my brother, but I'll let you sit in on it too. For future reference, if you go to a bar where the barmen have bleached blonde hair, lisps, eye piercings and sexy tight fitting t-shirts they're probably gay. It doesn't necessarily mean it's a 'gay bar'... However, if the walls are filled with artwork like this:
then it definitely is a 'gay bar'. No big deal, just pointing it out.

But if the clientele consists of fruitcakes like this guy, who manages to heckle you for at least 45 minutes about how he's descended from Pharoahs and is the heir to one of the most noble families that history has known (whilst wearing a pair of beat-up old jogging bottoms and reeboks), then you're not only going to gay bars at the weekends, but one of the biggest dive gay bars there must be. Try out one of the swanky places in Soho or even Shoreditch House.


The whole situation freaked me out so much I had to bring myself back round to normality and so went to eat 12 pieces of chicken with my friend James.