Thursday, 10 June 2010

I went to see The Fall the other night......

It was the best night of my life.

Ronnie and Reg

Some of my new stuff will be on sale here.........................

Saturday the 12th of June at CHECKOUT, an event put on by Central Reservation.
For more information please go here..........................

Checkout is a once-monthly art market staged on the second weekend of the month from April to July 2010 at Central-Reservation. Checkout offers the chance to buy the work and wares of artists, designers, illustrators and makers from around the UK. Over 20 stallholders will present limited edition prints, artists books, zines, self published material and an array of one off artworks.

Sunday, 3 January 2010

Last year was a horror...........

Since i was sixteen this shoe has been the only constant........................... Last year nearly killed me,several times. My shoes went threw a lot.

8 pairs a year, at least two pairs in constant circulation.
One pair where stolen and taken to Florence before i stole them back.
One pair went to two funerals, four court hearings, three job interviews, did a weeks work in a tattoo shop and were scolded with boiling smack before being lost in a bet.
One pair were used to kick in a very posh windscreen before getting taken away when i was arrested.
The pair i'm wearing now about to die, i'm awfuly poor.

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

When i moved in with the Black country boys.....

I find it horribly hard to be around people that don't drink, i start to become a paranoid child like mess, asking lots of questions, being as polite as possible, longing to find the key to enlightenment. Do these people know something i don't? Are they part of a greater community with access to better living? Have they proof god exists? Has he shown them what is in store for them and their clean livers when they reach death? It will go on like this for the period of time I'm around the tee total, quickly i get more and more polite and self conscious. I find it hard to strike up conversation, i find it hard to sit still and mostly i find it hard to look the person in the eye.
I recently spent a week living with a tee total who goes by the name of Cannon and two boozers both called Mathew. I had spent a fair bit of time with both Mathews but i had only came across the water boy a couple times, this scared me a little due to the rambling above.I quickly settled and felt at home straight away. It turned out to be the most fun I'd had in a long time, spending the entire time laughing, dead drunk laughing. It never even crossed my mind that Cannon didn't booze, it didn't bother me that he doesn't booze. I was comfortable.
I was high off this thought for over a week before going to the pub with some hangover boys, one of them brought along Darren, a straight edge vegan prick who needs a good punch in the face. His stories were boring and scary, not like Cannon's warm and homely tales. Our eyes met a few times which caused a sting in my stomach, the stinging stayed for a long time causing the hate for Darren to multiple rapidly. Usually i would have humiliated Darren and probably hurt his beliefs in some way, i decided not too, i decided to ignore him and it worked. I awoke the next day with a terrible hangover but feeling proud of my new grown up approach to life. Apparently poor Darren woke up feeling no good at all, whilst walking home some horrid thug had thrown a pint of Guinness at him from a group of like minded boys he was hiding in. I guess that's Plymouth for you aye. Poor sod.
Here's some photos Mathew Worboys took whilst i was staying............

They were all over me mate........

Whilst out on the piss with the lads, Worboys got in a bit of trouble with this pair of swingers. Luckily he had his bike with him so he could give the bird a backy whilst four eyes ran alongside them. They get home and Worboys offers the pair a can of carlsburg whilst they order a curry. The curry comes, gets ate and opens a whole world of uncomfortable chit chat with gaps of awkward silence. Cut a long story short, Worboys finds himself upstairs in bed trying his best to pleasure Polly pension whilst her old man is in the cupboard holding on to his nob like it's the winning ticket at the Grand national. Worboys, doing his best to get round the track as quick as possible finds it hard to cope with the spectators support, "Go on Mathew, go on son". This leads to a poor finish from our Worboys who gets treated like a loser with a kick out of the door. No goodnight kiss for our poor sod Worboys.

Mathew Mountford is a virgin.

Mathew Mountford dribbles when he's pissed,

he can count on one hand the girls he's kissed.

I was comfy sleeping on his sofa bed,

never before has a girl seen his pencil lead.

bang a bird I'll urge him,

secretly knowing I'm actually a virgin.