Thursday, 27 August 2009

Wal-Mart Fashion Week Every Week

I will admit it, ok I am addicted to style. Fashion mavens everywhere have nothing on style when it comes to appropriating a style that is just truly your own. I say this because fashion is dictated, not spontaneous. With word that Anna Wintour is coming to grace her corpse to this years London Fashion Week, an appearance she has not made since 2007, people are giddy. London is now become a haven for the tragically hip. I myself haven't made an appearance to a fashion week party or show since 2005. To me, it's always the same. Retro looks on bored malnourished youngsters whom think this is dare I type it, FABULOUS. Ok first I was here for the cheap free booze, after parties, and to see whose coke I snort, and what goodies I can grab in my bag. Second I was there to network, network, network.

But To fill your calendar with a weeks worth of Fashion Week Parties is a young persons game and I am an old fart now at the geriatric age of 41. That's like teetering on Karl Lagerfeld domain, you looked stupid surrounded by a bunch of young people who think they know what is supposed to look good. When In actuality some gay guy told them this is the new look. Plus I am much to old to have to suffer fashion cramps. Fashion cramps are outfits that look really good on you but are a fucking pain to wear, like my leather chaps. and I own five pairs of them fuckers. As my palette for style has changed with age, I have turned my sites to a different catwalk.

Stores have become my interest in how people dress, just not only in the high street chains but everywhere. So my new obsession is People Of Wal-Mart . Cause if anything thing these people truly know how to show their true individuality.
Me, myself I will not shop at a Wal-Mart for ethical reasons. Ok, before you start thinking I am some bona fide drunken hippy Norma Rae, I'm more of a Target and K-mart kinda guy, always have been, always will. I mean shit whom can pass up three fruit of the loom wife beaters for $11..00 and dickies for $23.00. Still with rampant rumours of child labour law violations and muscling in on small business and communities, poor care of it's work staff, I just don't see the need to wear an XXXXX LL Bin Liner in the latest red neck style. Just because I am on a K-mart/Target diet doesn't mean I can't look at the Wal-Mart Menu that is there ever glamourous patronage. The aisles of Wal-Mart give Fashion Week a run for its money. Perhaps if Marc Jacobs got off his knees long enough to pry his lips off his Brazilian's piece of cock, he might find a new trend like the bullshit one he hampered onto the masses with Grunge. Still this is some good old fashion scrutiny of the style mavens. I bet lard ass Andre Leon Tally could only dream of suck extravagance, especially since that fucker walks around in what can only be described as an over decorated Muu Muu.

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

Moments That Shaped Me Number 6

My aunt Jane used to baby sit me and my brother and since she was a influence in ways musically to me, I remember her teaching me how to dance to this very song. And for some reason, no matter what my mood this always will put it in a better one. I would violently shake and knock down furniture, step on the family dog, fall over and get right back up. I would shake to a rhythm my feet couldn't control. Much to the chagrin of my mother when I heard music I would simply knock into things and keep moving. Forward motion, keep shuffling and then I saw this. I was simply just a plucky six year old id and thought this is where I needed to be. I remember once dancing so violently that I accidently smakked my brothr in the eye with my hand. So come 12:00pm on a saturday afternoon I would plant my little ass in-front of the TV. I was left alone to my own devices, and happily so. Music was partly what shaped me. And then I would try and mime and mimic the motions that I saw in-front of me. I would normally do this till I simply passed out of exhaustion. It's funny how certain songs stay with you and this one has always been a favorite.

If you go to 1:09, the bitch in the brown vest looks like the fashion equavalent to Swine Flu.. As opposed to American Bandsatnd, well it was just sixty minutes of who to dance like a dorky asshole. I mean this to me anyways, solitified that most white people don't have the rythem and below shows proof.

Saturday, 22 August 2009

My Fellow Americans

Last night I went home bleary eyed, tired wobly and feeling really run down mostly cause I had a shit week! Upon my arrival home
I normally have my ritual, tear off my clothes and put my uniform on. Boxers and a wife beater (wife pleaser to my feminist friends), the most comfortable clothes man can ever wear next to being naked. Anyhoo, turn on the flat screen and to the daily news.. and the usual. Hooded moron claims innocence after stabbing kid 16 times in public park with 39 witness's saying otherwise. Parliment blaming binge drinking and alcoholic behavior on cheap booze prices and a dwindling economy. Forget the fact that we live in a country where there is a fucking pub nearly every 2 blocks in central London. Anti Social Behavior out of control when laws are put into effect from preventing us from kicking the shit out of these little petualent little shits, but it's still rising. But then we turn to Things going on in America.... Although tired my interest is suddenly perked. I sit up and listen.

It's really weird to watch my home country change and view it from the outside. To witness it's behaviour from a different perspective outside the circle. First, with the release of the Lockerbie Bomber. Ok, yes it;s horrible, and yes, it should never have happened. To make thinkgs clear I am not supporting nor deffending Al Megrahi or his actions. Just Like Timothy McVey, I think they are answers we will never truly have to get a full picture. So cue conspiracy theorists and all, I think there is more to be learned. I do believe that the real criminals and culprits for these attrocities are still at large, so there I said my two cents. Come on can any one see the irony here? Americns thinks he's such and asshole, and the guy is dying of prostate cancer. Literally. Ok, it's not like he's chilling with P fucking Diiddy whats his face in St. Tropez, down at his crib sipping champagne. I could care less what fucking Libya thinks for they raise flags when a fucking Camle makes a takes shit! Still I think that the Scottish Secretary MacAskhill gave a good reason, and fair enough. There are always going to be wo sides of this political tar baby. I think in order for the world to be a better place we need to be a more compassionate world and loving people as a whole.

A private shop is around the corner from my shop, I didn't go over there with stern words or get angry but went over with some
flowers and wished the luck and congradulations.. She earned it. America seems to think that the world, i.e. them, are always under direct terrorist threat and would like to keep their citizens thinking that too. which is a shame. In the 80's it was the Russians whom posed the biggest threat, now it's crazed militant Muslims and any Muslim middle easyern country for that matter that pose the threat to America. Well if the fucking bully is going to punch you, he 's going to fucking punch you not talk about it. So for me I think that this was a bold move in humanity. Also I do feel Obama has to tread carefully as I am sure he has a team of advisors whom he has to make sure he keeps the status quo there. It may be a completely different to what he personally feels as opposed tohis professional opinion. With his trying to reform social health care. This was the footoage that pissed me off. Some dumb bitch at a town hall meeting speaking with her local government official, claiming that Obama was supporting a Nazist, Fascist ideology. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have some stupid broad in ugly ass clothes, row 9 seat 6 whom needs a really good fucking slap.

What is the problem with social health care? Nothing. I have a General Practioner one block from my home. I will never pay more than £7.10 ($11.72) for any medicine or perscription I may need. In fact some I get for free. FREE MEDICINE. Why Because I need it. For instance if someone takes medication that is costing them in America $630 for heart a condition, this does not cover 60 day refills and other incidents, like medication falling down a drain. Stupid I know but happens. Here, a doctor just refills this. Of course I am not sying that I get Vallium mailled to me, I did in California. A friend told me told me he is billed $5000 for the drug Atripla for a three month supply or what his insurance does. Which is fucking crazy! I stayed ina a hospital bed with accute food poisoning for 6 days and was free! I know one asprin tabliet in the state doled out by staff would have cost me $18.00. again fucking crazy. Plus I was in a private wing so I was doing ok. I mean the food was dire but It wasn't like I checked into the Sanderson Hotel With heated debates and the the threat of Americans at each others throats over medical reform, if stupid and fucking bullshit. So take it from someone who has expierienced it first hand as an American, Social Health Care WORKS! The footage of Billy Bob holding his "Oboma(sic) Don't Know "picket sign argueing with a woman about the issue was good television. I think it was the same fucker whom was ther picketing the Dixie Chicks, only with a better haircut.

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

Lessons In Sex Tape Making 101!

It had all the making to be great, good, even down right nasty. This what I don't understand about the stratusphere they call celebrities now adays. Back in my day it would have gone down this way. Picture it, Hollywood 1900's. Sex was easy to get long before internet. Drugs were better and lasted longer, rent control was in effect and people were alot less suspicious and privacy allowed most to get there Ho stroll on with a worry or care. So you have one slightly handsome bohunk (allegedly), that broad from Scream and Noxema comercials, with a pinch of one perky shamed former Miss Teen title holder. I love that title more than current Riegning Miss Teen USA, sounds kinda like Failed Child Actor becomes Big Time Drug Addict Ho Bag. Well I knows it cause I grows it. anyways. People are shocked at a video showing people covorting about in a hot tub smoking either a crack, weed insert current new street drug here. Anyhoo, so what was once the "Sex Tape" trend has been debunked by the "Naked Tape" contender.

I call it the "This is nothing more than upwardly mobile white people having fun and doing a really shitty job of it, tape." Ok, I would look at footage of a woman blowing an Ardvark, and have. But this, come on! Where's he burned crack pipe lip kiss? Where is the lesbo lithe finger bang? No facial cum shots and snow ball, cream puff jizz swapping. Where's the "swallow my pipe you child killing, crack pipe smoking, lesbian loving slut" banter? Annabelle Chong getting banged by 251 (62 guys and one fired security guard), now that was a sex tape. Somewhere in the state of Texas there is a tape with my name on it. I am not ashamed, there I said it. I mean there were no animals involved nor children, satanic cults or even a circus act harmed in the making of my sex tape. Probably not so much as a sex tape really, more of a guy filming me and some other unfortunate soul caught doing it in a dark dank alley. I blame my alley cat slut gene, but most gay guys have that componant built into their make. This happened when I thougt it would be fun to take the train cross country and visit a friend whom was attending Texas A&M. But when I new the camera was on I gave a fucking performance of a lie time to make any zoologist proud.

So if your going to make a sex tape god damn it have sex.. These time they are a changing.. and with my alley cat ethics , I mean give ud some show. Peen and titties do not make a sex tape. Throw in a crack pipe and you got the makings of a potential sex tape, I would be all, "Give Me Something Ta Suck!'. As patience dwindles and audiences are asking for more things in this current climate of change and uncertainty, a hunger for more is bound to take precedence. For instance, third base isn't considered being felt up or touching a persons genitals, it's a blow job. In my case, second base. I have done some low end porn and s&m movies but the funny thing is I enjoyed doing them at the time and saw nothing wrong with it. So with a former title holder of some Miss Teen Wets Pants and the married couple I found all just anti climactic. I mean these people are paid to entertain us and even when the have sex there is no penetration, no cracked out stupor or even a big bag of weed. In Hollywood failure is just spitting distance from anyone and that makes it so much more entertaining when normal people watch famous people unravel. But to see somewhat famous people fucking, that's when the real entertainment and shame kick in. I mean jesus even Gene Simmons' sex tap had a a girl wearing a corset and flip flops while having sex. But that one still baffles me for style sense and purposes.

So there you have it a TV actor of a show I never watch or even really heard of, and Rebecca whom was good in Scream 564, and apparently pretty good at running over small children. Along with this, she has a panache for posing somewhat stupidly with a crack pipe more than just the once. And some dumb bitch whom got dethroned for posing for Playboy. And your by now aware of my it ain't a party till something broken, well ain't shit going on here but the motherfucking rent. I imagine if George Michale was watching this on his iphone, and fell asleep behind the wheel before butt fucking that other vehicle. Come on people get with the program... Sex tape means actual penetration, clitty litter smeared on your face all while looking like Nellie O'Hara bathed in Vodka. i will never understand these people of today.

Monday, 17 August 2009

A Valentine From Mick Jones!

If you think of two words that appropriate the oil and water ideology it's Rock N' Roll and the word Library. You know those big old pesky halls filled with books and loads of somewhat unattractive people behind self imposing desks telling you to be quiet. I was always told to shut my pie hole in the library, but thaat's no surprise to you lot. Mick Jones of the Clash and Big Audio Dynamite and Carbon Sillicon, has once again opend his treasure trove to the rumoured breeding ground where it is said the Clash had formed. To me it's the perfect place and a Valentine from Mick, nestled directly across the street from Portobello Green Market. With this entire collection housed in a lock up for nearly 17 years, it is open for anyone free of charge to enjoy.

The exhibition is directly under the Westway and give you a glimpse to the history of the band, the area, and the hodgepodge that is Portobello. Portobello has a long history of Raggae and Dub and music scene, and with the Notting Hill Carnival coming at the end of the month, again Mick shows imppecable timing. Records, Movies, Set Lists, Toys and his large Library of Books, Magazines, Fanzines (all Original first Editions). I swear I all most passed out from delirium and sheer excitement and utter envy. I haven't been this giddy since I was spit roasted back to back at the back of Cuff's Leather Bar in Silverlake circa 1995. The entire collection is there for you to read and scan, with memory sticks for sale your fingers can litterally do the walking in this library. The idea is fucking genious. Being that my own pooch is a lover of fine culture she was allowed to enter the 3000 square foot exhibition and partake in all it's splendour.

Doling out Library cards that are also sure to be collectors items and fanznes and t-shirt's for sale, there is someting of interest for everyone. As the Library is only set up for a short time. There are also films and Docmentaries playing in the screening room of the exhibition. Over the weekend Viv Albertine was on hand to to give a history of The Slits. Upon leaving I felt this wasn't just a thank you to the Portobello Market area, Gazza's House Of Rockin Blues and the other attributes that was the breeding ground to Mick, Joe, Paul and Nick..but a time where you really weren't unindated with loads of corperate crap. Slogan's of DIY and starting revolutions and to feel free to make a souviner from the collection run through out the entire collection. Prompting the viewer to simply thnk outside the box and well, do something. The Library closes it's dorrs in August 23rd and is open weds-sunday and is free from 11am-7pm.. At Ladbroke Grove Tube Station and a brisk walk under the Westway, at 2 Acklam Road, it's a perfect way to soend a lazy day and then on to the market to start your very own collection. Being that when I moved to the Portobello/Notting Hill area nearly 7 years ago I have seen it change considerably. This is a testament to the hood of Portobello's greatness and legacy. By any means get your ass down there.

Saturday, 15 August 2009

Oh Bondage Up Yours!

Being that I have been busy I forgot to write a little bluurb about the stupidest artist on the fucking planet. It appears tha some guerrila posters have been making the rounds in Los Angeles and one has appeared in Atlanta. And once again the race card creeps it's ugly head in the burough of Smell A. I have nothing against Angelino's any more, but come on it always seems like the race card has been played more times than the first act of South Pacific at Saddleback High School. Black people move into Russian Jew Fairfax District, someone get the race card. Pro athlete with a history of beating his wife and alleged to have killed her. Damn it, get the fucking race card. Hoped up crack head and Pcp lover beat up and tazed the fuck out by LAPD, get the race card. Michael Jackson can't help but grope young ethnic boys of a certain look, alert the town council and while your at it, yup, get the race card. People in LA are starting to sound like those sons of bitches whom used to set off fire alarms in school for fun.
So to the "Artist" whom made these posters, Hey asshole do your homework. And another thing, you might want to take your sorry ass to different parts of the planet to truly understand "socialism". America seems to think (and yes I am going to generalize Americans) that Socialism in all forms is just a gateway to Communism, Fascism and any other stupid ism that the American government wants the people to think is impending doom. Well if your ass was run over by a bus you would want some socialist hospital care and pronto. Me personally I like the posters cause it was probably made by some stupid vapid white suburban moron with long blond hair and glasses. This dumb fuck probably wears a pony tail and drops refferences of "the man" more times than he will ever get the chance to get laid.
The poster doesn't make sense on a practicle level and it should have said something to make people really fear what might happen. Like, "Do as I say or I will set Hillary you on your mother fucking ass!" But I do feel the NHS is far superior than what the U.S. has and that ain't shit. Compared to insurance premiums and health costs and the prevelant greed that is rampant in Capitolist America... Nothing wrong with money I fucking love it... I am always singing,,, you got's to have J.O.B. if you wanna be with me! But still that idiot is a novice at dropping. You know where you go and place stuff that will rile people and not know what to do.. I did some artwork and posted it on a Brotherhood website. I should also mention that it was a blood and honor skinhead site and those bitches threw a hissy fit that Richard Simmons would be proud of. Talk about getting your panties in a bunch. Still they missed the point of skinheads actually listened to Dub and Reggae.. BUt I say give Obama a chance, as I was a dyed in the wool Hillary supporter, I think Obama has alot of ground to cover and doing the best he can considering the current situation.

But I do think that it's ok to satirize political figures with a messaege as long as a point is made or there is a lane of humour to it. What's wrong with that? So I will finish this with a song to the gay skinheads and the cheap seats in the back.. 1.2..3.4!

Ears Everywhere Beware!

With the evident threat of that quasi bitch Adam Shambert threatening to release his liquid disc of shit to the masses and general public. The PR machine has kicked into over drive to embrace his inner fag-you-nous. Some fucking glam quad must have told him this was cutting edge and ffff, fffufufthp, fffefeirm ffuff, fahfahthuurp,.... fierce. Listen Adam, Gary Newman called and wants his look back.

So this is what happens to you when you have aspirations to look like Roisin Murphy, Bjork crossed That Lady Ga bitch with the big honk beak, whom doesn't like to wear pants. And let's start with that mother fucking hair. Any kid from the seventies remembers the claymation Christmas Rudolph Tv show. So what the fuck is going on with that, "Herbie, wants to grow up and be a dentist!", sweep of hair? I blame the tubby bitch camera right. Sorry but to be hired as a stylist shouldn't you have taste, or style first? Kinda like the blind leading the blind. Adam, Missy Elliot called and said she was going to kick your ass, if so much as one squint of jizz stains her throwback costume.
Well props to the art director for distracting Adams chin with that much bigger roll beneath. I Iamgine this will be photo chopped the fuck out and will probably look a little something like this.
and of course first music video his video will look alittle something like this in about five, four three two...

Thursday, 13 August 2009

Performance Art.. Bollucks or Just Plain SHIT?!

I've said it once, and I say it again I like to think of my self as a cultured well versed gentleman. I've been known to saunter into gallery spaces and experience the odd performance. But it wasn't till I had a discussion with a client whom is also a artist whom does art installations, that we broached the subject of performance art. Now I normally go for the free cheap booze and the social aspect of it as well. Ok, it's just the cheap(free) booze. But I have had it with these artists whom claim to be deep, thought provoking, and worst of all thinking they are prolific. And when I have a few in me and slightly pickled, well I turn into a art piece myself, or as an ex used to describe me, a piece of work.

Now I am no performance artist and but I can tell what sucks big time when I have to endure 10-20 even an hour of this drivel. There was the drag clown whom spun to circus music while pulling chiffon scarves out his ass in downtown New York circa 1990. Ron Athey's treating the audience to a double ended dildo fuck session cut by a tattooed butler. The green contortionist broad whom bent in all shapes to Burmese music out in Chicago while a projection of vivisection images splashed across her and the stage. Franko B walking a catwalk dripping blood up and down for 14 minutes. And the piece de resistance, a woman covered in leeches fucking her self with some seriously large tailor sheers as the blood soaked leeches poured down her body. That one made me woozy for a week. Flashdance, it ain't!

I mean can you really make a career as a serious artist always pulling things out of your ass?
I read once in Stuart Home's book Defiant Pose about one performance artist whom in the book, took to becoming addicted to heroin of the gallery patrons and the men in the crown would then take turns fucking her. She would suffer for the fact that her body and mind would deteriorate so that you would witness the horror of the drug and depravity first hand. Fair enough, but to me that says something and has a train of thought. I once saw Karen Finley (whom I love) perform and I walked away thinking..."Shessh, the fucking mouth on that broad!" But she still made a point. Okay the apple pie in the pussy was abit too far, but still it was worth the Seven buck shekel I paid to see that. But does the world need another pretentious asshole thinking he's clever by subjecting us to a four minute film of him fondling his moob bolognie tits! Perhaps if your a chubby chaser and you like feeding fat dudes then this is porn for you, but art it isn't.
You know those silly buskers out in South Bank whom pretend to be statues or figures of what can only be described as paper mache costumes to entertain the wayward visitor of London? At least they know that their crap and still make light of the performance cause it's met with humour, followed by the audacity to ask for money. Simply their motive is to make a quick buck and to lazy to get a fucking proper day job. Good on them, make the money, don't let it make you. But I do think most performance art I have seen has been a bit shit and a bit out dated, and getting me drunk isn't going to make the experience that much smoother.
No matter how much I drink. I once went with a friend where we crashed a gallery in my Shoreditch area, as we liked most of the art we made small talk with some of the guests. Good time was had till a hyper morbid Goth was in my path forcing me to loose my balance and place my right leg into what I thought was a multi coloured plexi glass sculpture. Turns out if was paint and paint went everywhere on the gallery floor,grabbing the heaviest thing I could find (her) to counter my balance without falling into the work. The fat goth's dress tore and paint mixed everywhere in the other coloured boxes and her dress. Sadly, hilarity did not ensue. The artist was livid, that fat goth screamed her dress was ruined and the gallery owner thought the whole episode itself was art. Well as I always say, it ain't a party till something's broken. So I offered the fat Goth £5 bucks for her stained muumuu (she refused), and offered to replace the pools of paint to the artist.

Surprisingly, drunk and under due stress I can handle some odd situations quit well. Strangely the footage made it to another gallery on a loop in slow motion then in real time, to most others amusement. Although I am a art school drop out and was actually thrown out of beauty school(long story), I don't pretend to be clever or smart, like some of the shit that's palmed off as high art here.
So yeah, if you're an untalented fat git, whom has no real voice or talent to make an actual point or message. Try performance art. Then why not make an ass of your self and call it art, people will invite you to parties, put you in glossy magazines and call you interesting, just as long as you keep fucking yourself with scissors and wiping shit on your face while reciting Chaucer, your in. Until the next idiot comes and steals your thunder.
But before you think I am opposed to all performances...not true this is how it should be done.

Wednesday, 12 August 2009


At the Doncaster convention I couldn't escape the stupidest haircuts on the planet. They were around every corner and I couldn't get away from them. A girl approached me to talk at the bar and telling me how she liked my work and asked what type of music I liked. I gave her a small sample list of varied favorites till she shocked the fuck out of me. Seriously my jaw dropped. Waiffish, petite and covered in more tattoos than her 21 years should ever allow. But she spat, " I don't know who David Bowie is and just don't get it!' to which I was insensed. I looked straight at her and told her. "I should take that fucking studded belt of yours and beat you with it," She reasoned she was emo.. and that was her excuse.

Ok so being an Emo gives you a fucking open door policy to have a bullshit haircut and crap taste in music. Any moron in hysterectamy pants with chopped comb over can scream how unfair the world is and just doesn't understand them. Emo, can suck donkey dicks for all I care.
Evanesence= She sounds like Heart, with a girl whom has cankles the size of Florida and will eventually balloon like Ann Wilson of Heart. She will just look like a goth version of Carnie Wilson from Wilsomn Phillips.
Dashboard Confesional=Who gives a fuck about their confessions as they are a chore to listen to, I would rather blow George Bush than have to listen to this drivel.
Fall Out Boy and those pussies Jimmy Eat World should be sued for noise pollution and those fucking retarded albums they make, or as I like to call them liquid discs of shit.

It's bad enough that these stupid girls sing aliong to songs that portray women as venomous shrill toxic harpies with nothing better to do than to emasculate a guy whom has no dick or balls. But even worse that they walk around in what can only be described as a fucking come over.
So they glamourize suicide and talk about the pain of how nobody understands them in their dark void and hours of need somerwhere in their midweek life crisis. They all look alike and for a bunch of miserable cunts they sure like to cut themselves and preach the virtues of being pure and chaste. In my day we called them fucking wusses and pussies. Further more can we have like a national day where if you see a Emo mong you are here by free to kick them firmly in there ever flat asses!

There should be a national task force in every country to shave their heads and wipe the eye liner from their eyes or even worse I would fucking cornrow their heads. I have a confession to make that when i see these little shits sitting at shows on floors I harbour a deep fantasy to want to step on their fingers cause they are that annoying. I don't, but so want to. I swear they look like sheep. To me it's nothing more than watered down goth for pussies. It's understandable why some of them look so miserable, i would too if I had to walk around with a fucked up hair cut and jeans that split my balls in two.

Boys kissing boys, girls looking like their boyfriends? Can anyone see that the emporer has cum stains and holes in his underwear? Still I will never understand a subculture that embraces being a emotionaly frail as some sort of heavy cross thats cool to bare,

Like Scientology these peoples drive way doesn't hit the house nor the street. Emo is to close to Elmo and thats what these kids look like. Sad Puppets.

Welcome to sunny Doncaster!

Dear friends I seem to be trapped in the ass crack of the fourth demonsion of hell, also knows as Doncaster South Yorkshire. Please send Comfortable bed, Cable TV, good food, and valium.. Casue I am about to cut a bitch! Having a blast with my imaginary enemies. Wish you were here.

After the Iconography Of Masks Show I had to haul my ass to Doncaster for the Tattoo Jam convention hosted by Skin Deep. As my shop was manning a booth I was asked to come by the Editor of Skin Deep himself. So I couldn't say no. So we packed the vehicle and made way on the road, over the hills and through the woods to Doncaster Racecourse we go. No I gotta say that Doncaster isn't so much a city as it is a sleepy town. With only the finest of cuisine to offer the wayward traveller, I was beside my self with hunger, famine, and boredom. Nestled between closed shops and the odd off license with two magazines and not much else there isn't a whole lot to do here othe than gamble and drink. This place is not the place to get yourself into trouble, and believe me I looked. But rather a quiet town in the north, where the Yorkshire accent reigns supreme and friendly people none the less. Albeit not the most stylish, but friendly bunch.
So armed with my tattoo equipment myslef, David and Alessandro made our way for the whole weekend. Tattoo Jam offered seminars to tattoo artist and held a reception hosted by Sailor Jerry Rum. Being that I had partaken of the evil nectar a few days before at the mask show I still felt very drunk so it's best that I behaved and kept a sober frame of mind to tattoo. I went to the Shane O'Neill Tattoo Seminar and The Paolo Tattoo Machine Building seminars and worked the whole weekend. Now when I do conventions, I am always quite busy and was lucky to keep myslef busy and recoup my investment of the booth. But luckily I got to throw in a few social laps and talk to some of the othert artists their during the weekend. I really enjoyed the convention and was amazed how freindly our neighbouring booth guys were. So hello, hi ther and a big howdy to Empire State Tattoo and Trimur We will be doing the show again and we will be gearing up for the Brighton Tattoo convention. I need to be still for a bit and stop making all kindsa crazy projects, schemes and ideas.

The show was full of some of the best artists in the world and was surrounded by some awesome inspiration. As I was luck enough to do a pin up the last day of the convention, I spent a huge bag of coin while their. No the food in this place left little to be desired cause I was one hungry bitch. But with choices like Pizza Hut, KFC, Chicken Pizza Palace, I realized how good I have it in London. I complained and bitched, moaned to anyone and everyone who would listen or not for that matter.
So I armed with my Ipod I went on a mission to suck up some Lacal Kah-Lor.

I thought this was just a 14 year old kid but he turned out to be 20...

Local Yokels

Even people in Doncaster catch VD...and I would just happen to stumble across it.

Doncaster has no gay bar so this is the closest thing to it I could find. No bear bars, this is it! Suit up! Chop chop put the wings on, curtain is about go up!

This is the most glamorous creature I could find,, She is at the pinnacle hight of teenage fashion. Ahh bless.

Alessandro excited that I am paying for dinner.. look at that bitch's face, you think he'ld never eaten before.

Iconography Of Masks!

I have had a hell of a social schedule and am hence here by stricken from making and or cooking up any hair brain schemes for the time being. The Mask Show went on without a hitch, from what I can remember. The Sambucca shots poured and remember tall tales and luckily didn't fall into any displays or make an ass out of myself. But I always believe it ain't a party till somethings broken. Lucky for me the masks were a hit and the three day gathering garnered quit a bit of press. Showing at galleries is always a bit hectic till the work is actually hung and I have a few in me to quell the demon satan child that lurks in me. Thanks to Jason and Manko and Resistence Gallery for a splendid evening. The Running theme seemed to be pain and death. One womans mask was a tribute of her parnter whom died a week after they broke up. Hopefully Gary and Jason can make the show travel and a documentary will be featured for the exhibition as well. I added my two cents of crazy ramblings to the film and should be coming to a space near you in the future. (fingers crossed)
So here is the night shinanigans, Enjoy.

As you can clearly see I can not hold my composure in the graces of of fine art even when I am one of the artists showing.

Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Tattoos Of Insporation.

When I tattoo I would not necessarily say that I have a favorite type of style. Nor would I say that I only like doing one particular type of work over say another. I like to work and with my schedule the way it is, I am glad that people like what I do and try my best to accomodate them. Still it can be work and I am no where near where I want with my own work, so i keep at it an hope that it comes together. But I get inspired by other artists work and hold a high regard for these artists. There are tattoo artists whom only like to do one particular style or thing, and that's cool. But these dudes will always make me try and up my motherfucking game. I state this because when I see their work, it just surpasses what I feel is traditional tattooing and moving it to a level of actual art, and to me thats where the fun come in. The Pay off after hours of labour and deep concentration a work that is permanent is made.

Kore Flatmo= Just an unbeleivable artist and his work is stuning. the contrasts, colour, contrats, EVERYTHING.
I plan to get tattooed by him eventually. The guy fucking rules.

Jan= Original approach to tattoos and very interesting designs. Outside the box tattooing. Another on my list to be tattooed by.

Buena Vista Tattoo Club= Genius and again just unconventional appraoch to a tattoo design. Really Inspiring.

Kari Barba= Flawless and an amazing all round artist.

Mike Devries= Raising the bar on colour and just awesome in his colour theory and approach to his painterly technique.

Jack Rudy= Legend along with Mark Mahoney, before Kat Von D these guys were doing chicano black and grey before fucking Discovery made every little wigger want to look like he came from the barrio. These guys redefined black and grey work

So there it is just a fe of the artists whom work my brain to keep striving. Them and the guys whom taught me. Bob Vessels, Jamie Schene, Marc Paramore and Luis Favela..aka Papi! without these guys in my life I wouldn't be where I am at today and I owe them a great deal.. so on bended knee I pay them proper respect.

At the mo I am going to be taking a break for a few days asI have Skin Deep's Tattoo Jam Convention to do in Doncaster and I am exhibiting their with my shop. So this will pull me away for a few days but I will be back.. Hold tight and see you in church.