Brillness

This weekend I have been laying as low as I possibly can do with man-flu. Determined to maintain the momentum gathered with the Youves release I designed the accompanying t-shirt design...(colour variations and slight artwork changes may change)...


Today I have been working on my Gallows poster design which will be part of a series of posters for their UK tour of 'Grey Britain'. The series has been organised by the lovely Chris White who is a highly talented fellow and not to mention all round nice guy. Check out his blog here - http://3dglasses.wordpress.com/

Speaking of the Gallows here's Frank wearing a t-shirt I designed as part of the new Skulls t-shirt collection. Photo by Craig Burton.



Not sure at the moment if these are going to see the light of day but I'd really like them to because frankly - I think they're great!

This week on TV I particularly enjoyed 'Snog, Marry or Avoid'. The premise of the show being they take some over tanned fake tanned tart or a Camden cyberpunk goth and strip them down to what is close to a human being. This magic transformation comes under guidance of an anonymous big brother style voice of 'POD'. Each makeover lasts about five minutes making it far more digestible than the marathon of feel good, confidence boosting TV on Channel 4.

I also watched the end of 10 Years Younger on Channel 4 this week, after the program I was informed I could post my picture online and let the minority of the British public who understand the internet judge how old I look on the Channel 4 website. I was worried about what I might discover having bee recently ID'd for buying Rizzla's and filter's recently in the local Waitrose (not for me or kids waiting outside, don't worry). Luckily at the moment I am rounding off at 24 - which I think is fine, I can cope with anything over 21.

Going to listen to Steve Aoki and wish I took drugs.

Finished the Youves Artwork.

We've got Ledley at the back.

Went back to Worcester to see my Mum and Dad this weekend because it was Mother’s Day. They left the house early on Sunday morning on holiday to Florida. Because my Mum is almost as big a nerd as me she’s already found email access in the backwater towns of Florida and told me they are on their way to New Orleans via email. I expect her to locate a computer with MSN messenger pre-installed in an area yet to be rebuilt since hurricane Katrina before the week is out.

The past few nights I have been working tirelessly in my spare time on the Youves artwork. I’ve really bitten off more than I can chew and was up till the early hours finishing off the inlay last night. I’ll have to finish it off tonight as I’m on deadline, this time tomorrow I could be in a pro plus induced delirium and dribbling over my office desk.

This is how the inside looks.

Tottenham’s victory over Chelsea this week was a delight, I sweated out the last 20 minutes as we clung on - the heat of the laptop against my thighs (that’s not supposed to sound sexy) didn’t help. We played so well I only shouted “fuck” at the screen a couple of times, I don’t think I even pulled out the ‘C-word’, however I do tend to filter my language as often as possible in my parent’s residence – I am still embarrassed by the barrage of expletives I unloaded in an act of road rage when I last drove the folks.

I got a 1950s haircut and I think it looks alright.

Ching Ching

I haven’t updated the ol’ blog this week because I’ve been really busy. I even took a day off yesterday to try and do most of the artwork for band Youves that I’ll post up here as soon as it’s done.

While it’s still fresh in my mind I’d like to gripe about Comic Relief. I somehow submitted myself to the torture of watching the entire thing, which at time seemed like the sort of punishment reserved for the inmates of Guantanamo Bay.

Ironically, Africa (yes – all of it) makes Guantanamo Bay look like Butlins or at worst a caravan park in Weston-Super-Mare. If those poor folk living in squalor and dying of malaria had to watch Comic Relief would they have let Lenny Henry into their homes? This being said you should round up all your spare change and give generously. I didn’t – I support the Alzheimer’s Foundation only, sorry Lenny.

The focus of Comic Relief seems to have shifted and concentrated on the problem of malaria – it seems like a more realistic issue to solve and doesn’t have the major hurdle of the Pope (not only are his holyness’ policies a problem it’s literally impossible to jump over him in that hat). The Catholic church is a well known stumbling block in the fight for AIDS in Africa and even though the BBC is rumoured to be run by “gays and jews” (see ‘that episode of Extras’) – Aunty Beeb steers clear of any Vatican bashing.

On a lighter note I went and watched Bronson – the surreal biopic of ‘Britain’s most notorious prisoner’. The film really tried to put you in the mind of Bronson and some moments made me feel genuinely uncomfortable. The chav’s of Ilford felt equally uncomfortable as most headed for the exit but I suspect it was because Bronson bore tone of an arthouse flick rather than the prison rioting gorefest they expecting.

Tom Hardly becomes Bronson is a phrase associated now with every single review about Bronson but it’s true. I hope Tom isn’t a one trick pony and we see him becoming many other British legends; Churchill, Thatcher and Simon Weston to name a few.

My phrase of the week is “The Pope is a cunt” and I found the latest album by ‘Girl Talk’ particularly pleasant.

Neuroticism Uncovered

So far in 2009 I’ve managed to avoid one of the greatest blights on my life – the common cold. Luck and neuroticism have played their part, and I would like to think my money was well spent in the extra large bottle of immune system boosting tablets. Close your eyes and you can really taste those minerals and probiotics!

My obsessive compulsive habits have nurtured a strict routine when travelling on public transportation and since it seems to be working (I might have a hypochondriac’s fever brewing) I am going to share my top five tips to stay sniffle free this spring.

1. Gloves

Do not underestimate the power of the glove, even a little woollen number provides a barrier between your hand and the thousands of unwashed, genital dandruff infested hands of Joe Public. NB Careful removal of the glove is essential – I suggest removing and turning inside out into a ball ready for reuse.

2. Purell / Carex / Antibacterial Spray

This year’s favourite winter cocktail of tramps nationwide. The high alcohol content and smell of hospitals kill 99% of germs dead. Combine with regular washing of hands with hot soapy water so as not to allow your paws to turn into a germ orgy and you are onto a winner.

3. Breathing

Use your nose for breathing, not your mouth. All those tiny hairs (and not so tiny hairs in the case of our grandparents) inside your nose are marines sent into battle first, while the immune system hides in a nuclear bunker...that’s your body. All that hard work will be undone if you are fond of snacking on the odd nose candy. Sometimes I like to cover my mouth with the neck of my t-shirt too, but I am a social freak.

4. Seat swap / location

Don’t HOLD anything. Sit down – forget old people, pregnant birds, children. They are all exactly the kind of people you want to stay away from you. Remain in your seat at any costs. I personally prefer to pretend that I’m sleeping but if you’ve really got some balls throw in a foreign accent. If you are forced to stand go for a backs to the wall job and even if you start to fall grab a commuter not a handrail.

5. Ghetto Greeting

If you get forced into a ‘greeting situation’ forget the handshake, show how hip and ‘down with the kids’ you are by tapping knuckles. If your working in the business sector this might be slightly more problematic but advertising / new media types go nuts. Nobody will dare question it for the fear of seeming a bit ‘fuddy duddy’.

It's National No Smoking Day today. As I'm sure you are all aware...

I've never understood the fascination with smoking in the same way I've never grasped the concept of inebriation. If anything I understand it less, I've never watched anybody drag back and fill their lungs with the remnants of what is essentially a scaled down forest fire on a stick and really enjoy it the way I've seen somebody sip a nice cold pint of premium beer brewed in some factory in the north.

You just read my first and only attempt to glamorise alcohol.

Plus everyone knows that your lungs are of far bigger value to you than your liver. True enough both provide a quality service to your functioning body but the liver seems all together more interchangable than the lungs. Like failing your MOT and finding out you need a new fan belt instead of a whole new engine.

The irony of course is I will die from malnutrition long before anybody I've even shaken hands with is booking in for their annual check up.

Here I am.

So here I am, it took a while to figure it out but the only thing missing in my life was a blog.

This week I have mainly been enjoying the new Obits record. Obits it Rick Froberg from Drive Like Jehu / Hot Snakes new band. It bears all the Froberg guitar work hallmarks and seeing as I'm in the mood to make a lazy genre comparison I would say it was 'garagy' - if that's even a word.



There is no new episode of Lost this week so all I have to look forward to is the next installment of 'Coleen's Real Women'. Last week they defied all odds to get a MILF in the Sony Mother's Day Campaign - way to go Coleen.

I am still bombarding ITV with letters requesting 'Rooney's Real Men' - when produced I hope to gain at least an audition for Nike, Adidas or at the very least Kappa. My fine and delicate hands however will fail at the first hurdle for the H.Samuel 9ct Sovereign Ring photoshoot due to the lack of sausage fingers and brittle black hair.