Tag Archives: illustrations

Bare Bones – issue 3


Coming to you from the cleverest, most handsomest, most loveliest and most bestest scribbler in all of the land (that’s my buddy Harry Malt for those of you too bloody stupid to not know already) is the imminent release of Bare Bones issue 3.

Now I’ve told you about this loads before but it’s getting better and better and bigger and bigger.  They’ll again be knocking out 90 A5 prints from the 30 featured artists, all for the meagre sum of twenty squids…….I’ll be looking to replace the two that bird of mine seems to have lost since the issue 2 run.

To launch they’ll again be exhibiting at the Nue Gallery near Brick Lane from 1st April and running until….I don’t know…..a bit after that…..a couple of weeks….a month….fuck knows.  It’s really worth getting yourselves along at some point though.

The paper will be available to download sometime after the 1st.  Probably when Malt recovers from the his inevitable fools hangover.  Should anyone out of London (or the local lazy’s) want a physical copy, I’ll grab you one and send it on….fuck it….I’ll even pick up the postage.  Nice guy I am.

You can download Bare Bones issue 2 here – after felching and Gerbilling vids, it’s probably the best thing you could get from the interweb…..and it won’t get you in trouble with the missus…unless she loves Maggie Thatcher and deplores banana mutilation….in which case you should probably fuck her off anyway.  Silly cow.

Perhaps I’ll see you there.  Perhaps I’ll talk to you…..but probably not.

Now piss off.



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Jewel Muff Party Time

I have a friend called Lewis.  Me and his Mum call him Lewy Pooey.  Lewy Pooey loves being called Lewy Pooey.  He always says to me “call me Lewy Pooey”.  So I do.

I like Lewy Pooey for lots and lots of reasons.  I like him because he wears vests, but not under things to keep him warm, he wears them like normal people wear t-shirts.  I think this is great.  Even when it snows Lewy Pooey will wear just a vest.  I think he is really strong and tough.

Lewy Pooey has a harmonica necklace.  I think this is really cool and groovy and it’s great because he lets me blow it and everyone goes “wow” and it makes me feel special.

He has a hat that people say he wears because he is getting a bit thin on top, but I think he wears it because it makes him look ultra fab.

But my very best favourite thing about Lewy poey is that he has a tooth that he can take out of his face whenever he wants.  I would love to have a tooth I could take out of my face whenever I want. Sometimes Lewy pooey will do it to girls and they will get shocked and say “I am shocked”.  We laugh at them.  ALOT!  Stupid cows.

We’re having a party soon.  It’s not our birthdays or anything, we just LOVE being the centre of attention.  We are having a Jewel and Ear Muff Party because it’s National Jewel Day and National Ear Muff Day.  Lewy Pooey said that the bloody Yanks have all sorts of crap like that.  I don’t know what that means but yank sounds like that rude thing that makes you go blind.  And he said crap, so I laughed alot!  Ha ha.

My very good friend Harold made us a flyer for our party.  The Queen looks really really funny because her hat is on all wonky and her coat is well bright.  I hurts my eyes when I look at it.  I don’t know the other man but he has a strange head.  He must be really old because he has lots of saggy skin on his face.  The Queen has lots and lots of money that she works really hard for because she is the Queen, I think that she should pay for the saggy skin face man to have some plastic surgery to make his face not so ugly.

Non-elected spongers not welcome

I’m pleased that Harold made us our flyer yesterday because he was very unwell last night.  Matt the Cat found Harold standing in a puddle of red vomit in his socks.  Matt the Cat said he looked like a sad puppy.  I hope that Harold is ok and that he doesn’t look at anything like the saggy face mans face, he’ll definitely be sick again! Yuck!

I am looking forward to our party.  We are getting a big scary man to come and make sure that nobody has any arguments.  He will be my big scary man for the day, and because it will also be my party, if somebody is horrible to me I will get the big scary man to bonk them on the head and throw them in the bin.

I wish I could have a big scary man with me all the time.  There alot of people I would make him bonk over the head and throw in the bin.  I would set him on that man called Dave who rides a bike and doesn’t wear a tie and tells everyone that he is the best man that anyone has ever seen and he will make everything ok again.  I think he’s a prat.

I would do a moony on his face when he was in the bin and say.  Ha ha Dave.  Sniff my arse Dave.  Your bike is broken Dave.  You’re going to have to walk home Dave.

You cunt.

Beware of me and my scary man!!!


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As a general rule of thumb, band DJ sets suck dick.

I was planning to fill you in on New Year.  I can’t be arsed.  I’m so bored of talking about it.  It was alright.

We made a last minute decision to go to 93 Feet East.  I always give the place the benefit of the doubt as I’ve had some great times in there over the years, but it’s not been great for quite a while now.

Since the Spitalfields regeneration and the  gradual movement of the high street into the area, the bars have inevitably taken a massive nose dive.  They give it a good crack bless ’em with the nights they put on, but unfortunately shops and restaurants set the tone for an area and there’s no getting away from the fact that around Brick Lane it’s fast becoming just another boring high street.

People who think All Saints is  an anywhere near a credible brand, and eating in Giraffe isn’t just something you do if you can’t be bothered to walk anywhere else, well, they’re not the sort of folk who are going to be creating a good vibe for your evenings entertainment are they?  How many interesting people do you know who have ram skulls on their jumpers?……the answer to that is none…..if you think you do then I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re wrong.  Nice, friendly and a laugh they may be, but interesting they ain’t.  Superficial?  You bet.

Anyway.  That’s not what I want to talk about.  I might do something in more depth on Brick Lane soon, what with the East London line extension on it’s way, there’s going to be alot of social issues surrounding the area in the coming years.  There’s going to be some interesting debates to be had.  I say debates.  I mean me telling you what’s right.

Right then.  NYE.  We had Wild Beasts and Doves DJ sets.  Now, I’m a big fan of Wild Beasts.  Their album Two Dancers would be in my top 3 of 2009 and Doves, everyone likes them right?  But what’s the deal with bands doing DJ sets now days? It’s got massively out of hand over the past few years.

I’ve got nothing against it if they’re good, but I reckon a good 80% of them really haven’t got a fucking clue.  I’m not suggesting they don’t know anything about music, most of them are fairly successful musicians and you don’t get that unless you’ve got some vague musical ability.  But there’s alot more to DJ’ing than just playing tunes you like, which is essentially what this lot are doing.

I’m not after technical turntable ability, I couldn’t really care less if you can seamlessly mix a couple of tunes, but the lack of any sort of coherence between one track and the next is just fucking annoying.  Don’t build me up with Dirty Projectors one minute and slap me onto the floor with Beyonce the next (I like Beyonce by the way, just not next to experimental Rock).   It’s even more annoying to think that they probably get paid a shit load more than someone who’s a million times better but who doesn’t have a ticket selling name.

Worse than band DJ sets, are sets from little arseholes like Peaches fucking Geldoff.  Not only does she not have any musical ability, that “musician” Father of hers who made her famous didn’t even have any! I imagine her friends bands are pretty terrible, but if she was at least getting her grubby mitts on early releases and stuff like that you could maybe understand it, but you just know that she’s playing Cindy Lauper in some uber ironic way while trying to muster a smile out of that simpleton meat face of hers.

I’m done.

Oh and by the way, for any jokers out there.  I am aware that Doves were formerly Sub Sub (hits include Ain’t no love, ain’t no use) and they have quite a credible DJ history at The Hacienda.  I wouldn’t lump them in with the rest if they hadn’t played at least a half of the As Heard on Radio Soulwax album in one hit.


Make sure you listen to the Dirty Projectors tune.  It’s ace!


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Christmarse is almost here. Joy oh joy.


I usually knock out blogs in my lunch hour….well…..lunch half hour by the time I’ve got me grub and wolfed it down.  Not for the past week or so though.  Oh no.  Lunchtime’s have been spent wandering aimlessly around the West End hoping that something jumps off a shelf, slaps me in the face and tells me that my Mum would love it.

It was a bit of an effort but the shopping’s all done and dusted.  Finished it this afternoon I did.  Just had to visit John Lewis for the sixth day on the spin to get the old girl a dressing gown (don’t worry she won’t be reading this shit).

I had no idea what department you would find a dressing gown in.  Had to call the girlfriend in the end and get some directions.  Lingerie section.  Who’da thunk it huh?  I never venture down to the lingerie section, the word doesn’t even register in my brain.  I don’t get a hard on or nuffin like that.  I just get a bit anxious looking at girls looking at pants.  It’s not so bad in John Lewis though.  It’s all middle-aged housewives so you don’t feel like a perv……or is that more pervy?…..I dunno.  Got the job done with minimum fuss though.  Unlike yesterdays trip to Selfridges.  Loads of Agent Provocateur birds handing stuff out in stockings ‘n’ that.  I was so entranced I ended up on the fourth floor.  I don’t even remember getting on the escalator.  I don’t know how blokes cope if they’ve got a half decent bird in that gear.  I’d be finished before I’ve started.

Anyway.  I realised during these traumatic days of Xmas shopping that I’m treating my girlfriend a bit too well.  I remember when we first started going out she’d be constantly saying “I want” “I need” and getting gifts was easy.  If you only remembered half the things she wanted or needed then you were good for about 58 presents.  Now days though she appears to want for nothing.  I suppose when you’ve got a fella like me what else do you need?  Lucky bitch.

Got her some stuff that could be a bit hit and miss.  It’s her birthday in Jan as well, I’ll be well and truly lost when that comes around.  Got their family a present.  They’re all grown up now so they complain a bit about Xmas being a bit boring.  They’ll probably read this so I can’t disclose what it is, but it’s got the potential to ruin their day……or at least cause a massive argument.  God that would be amazing.  If I could start ruining days without even being there I’d be so proud of myself.

It’s my last day at work today so I’m off to play Hungry Hungry Hippos and Pop Up Pirate.  I LOVE the last day of term!!!

Oh, before I go.  I was coming out of John Lewis via the food department earlier.  Some old girl knocks a jar of pickles off the shelf and they smash at my feet.  She didn’t bat an eye and fucked straight off leaving me to cop the disapproving looks. I didn’t know what to do.  Ended up just getting flustered and pointing to the poor old cow saying to strangers that “it was her, it wasn’t me……it wasn’t me…..”.  She looked back at me with this dough eyed innocence.  For a second even I thought I was lying.  I swear she smirked as she turned away.  Crafty little bastards those OAP’s.  I reckon she was on the rob as well.  She’ll probably cite her Alzheimer’s if she get’s caught.  Seriously.  Don’t trust them.  Calculating old fucks.

Have a good Xmas party people!  Mine is going to made bearable by corrupting my sweet little niece.  I think we could be spending some more time on the naughty step.



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Folk Clothing – Even makes me look half decent

It’s been a bit of a quandary for me recently deciding whether or not to blog about the clothing line that’s had me looking like such a cool mother fucker for past couple of years.  You want to let people know about something you love, but on the other hand you don’t want any old twat stealing your vibe. 

Unfortunately the good folk at errrr Folk have gone and fucked it all up by doing too well.  The bastards.

I was pleased when I heard news of them extending the flagship store on Lambs Conduit St to two floors.  They were doing well, and rightly so, but now they’ve opened a 2nd store just off Brick Lane.  There’s no point trying to keep quiet about it now is there.  Every sap’s over there at the weekend now days.

With a simple but quirky design ethic and great attention to detail, they’re consistently knocking out must have pieces.  I can’t think of another label that has me wanting pretty much everything they produce. 

These are some of my highlights from the latest line, floating my boat in a big way they are:






You really should pop in and check it out.  Some of it isn’t the cheapest, but twisted classic design won’t be heading anywhere will it.  So un-like your mates who rape the high street you won’t look like a prick when you’re checking out photos from more than 3 months ago.  The staff are a friendly bunch as well, be warned you might end up in there for a while having a chat.  If they like you they might even knock a few bob off.  Can’t say fairer than that can ya.




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Bad Ass illustrating – Bare Bones: Issue 2

Right.  Let’s get busy.  I’ve got some mad catch-up to do.  Been taking quite a bit of time off work lately.  Trying to use up holiday before the end of the year.  I’m definitely missing a trick.  Next year I’ll be taking my quota by May and chucking in sickies every other Monday and Friday for the rest of the year.  Some of the people I work with must live in fucking dungeons judging on how many “colds” they get.  Suppose I should feel sorry for them not having luxuries like central heating, hot water and fruit.  I’m half expecting to see an appeal e-mail asking for a fiver a month when I come into work now days.

If you could spare just £5 a month you could save my ears from listening to people constantly complain about how busy they are…….actually I think I might get the appeal going.  Could get the sickly fuckers some multi-vitamins for a start.

I’m a bit of a dour bastard today.  I think I’m just a bit annoyed about missing the Xmas party to be fair.  I think I’m more annoyed at the fact that there appears to be zero gossip.  No fingering in the toilets, nuffin.  There should always be someone dreading coming to work the day after.  It’s a rule that should never be broken.  I remember I was the talk of my first ever office party when I was 17.  Took until February for the gossip to stop.  Dishing a bit of stick out to a slapper at work is probably my favourite bit of Xmas and I don’t even get to do that this year.  Fuck it.  I might just make something up.  They’ll wish they stood on a table and got their tits out.  That’ll learn ’em.


First up there was the Bare Bones 2nd issue exhibition.  Managed to worm our way in after about an hour of hiding from the crowds in the Owl and Pussycat.  Worth the wait it has to be said.  Good it was.  Had some of the housemates find their favourite page.  Gilbey had 3 favourite pages…..although I suspect he just likes a bit of a pose.




Javvy rocked up looking like Del Boy and started taking pictures of people’s eyes for some reason.  Someone suggested he was trying to rip off Rankin.  Whoever said that must’ve been pretty stupid.  The only Rankin he knows is the wafty garage MC from the nineties.  They came out alright though.  More to do with the fancy camera than any idea of photography or art.



 In a new move the featured artists are producing limited runs of original A5 pieces for twenty quid a pop.  Some really good bits there.  Having turned up quite late I did miss out on a few that I would’ve definitely gone for.  Namely this one by my old mate Harry Malt.  Those of you who check in regularly would know that the inspiration behind this was our night in watching that crap Channel 4 3-D stuff.  I should surely be entitled to a percentage of the sale.  That’s the way it works right?


 I did pick up these two rather lovely bits though.  You can’t go wrong with a bit of Johnny Cash can ya.  Just have to get my arse in gear and get them framed now.


 There’s also some larger works going for (I think) £120.  Again, there’s some really decent stuff.  Bit of an investment as well.  I can’t imagine you’ll lose any money on them.  Any of the stuff would make someone a nice Xmas present.  Get yourselves along and check it out for yourselves.  Or have a look at the gallery web-site and see if anything takes your fancy on there.  Either way.  CHECK.IT.

I think I’ll have to call it quits for now.  This seems to have turned into a quite monstrous post.

Just one last thing.  The night coincided with Frieda’s birthday so we were all back to ours for a bit of a dance around the kitchen after.  The wife proper stacked it on the way home.  Probably the funniest thing I’ve seen since….well….she last fell over.  She’s still complaining about the rather huge grazes on her knees.  Frieda stacked it in the kitchen but still managed to carry on and complete her now obligatory table top dancing.

All in all a good night/morning.  A few sorry looking people wandering the streets of Hackney……or having breakfast and lunch in Mare St Spoons.  Dirty bastards.

I’ve got a couple of spare copies of the 2nd issue at home.  If anyone wants one then send me a message.  I’ll even pick up the postage.  I’m a fucking great guy like that.

Over and out for now.




Filed under Art

Daisy Lowe makes me look at something other than her arse.

Vodpod videos no longer available.     

Sometimes when I see Daisy Lowe’s name appear up on my Twitter feeds I find it hard to justify why she’s there, other than simply to remind myself that she exists and hope there might be a picture involved.      

Completely and utterly gratuitous

I know about Black Cab Sessions.  They’ve put me on a few things over the past couple of years (check this as well it’s ace), although it’s been a while since I’ve checked in, but when Daisy tells me to check something out, I check it out*.      

I only know the name Holly Miranda because her band The Jealous Girlfriends won an iPod music comp at some point. That’s about where my knowledge ends. Pretty pathetic.      

Still. I’ll give them a proper look now. Better late than never hey.      

It’s a really beautiful cover. She’s got an incredible voice.      

Cheers Miss Lowe. All you need to do now is knock up some beautiful textiles like your Mum (I love her Mum) and you’re well on your way to my top 5.  You lucky cow.      

If anyone has a problem with me liking beautiful textiles then….well….nothing really…..fuck yourselves.      

That’s it.      


*Not entirely true


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