Finally! A Ink Show That Doesn't Suck

We have been bombarded with shows about ink this and ink that. So it goes without saying that you don't need to have some bullshit story or reason for getting a tattoo. God forbid you go into a shop and get one for purely ornamental reasons. There has been a few tattoo TV shows, including the bullshit dog and pony show I did years back. Now, National Geographic Network, are televising a show about a group of bad ass guys from New York whom do animal rescue. These are the kind of guys you don't want to fuck around with. These tough dudes with hearts of gold, go after people whom place animals in jeopardy. Risks of dog fighting, which is become a problem here in the UK, to puppy milling.


Anyone whom has dealt with breeders, can see that puppy milling is a huge problem. I came across a few of these shit bags, when I was looking for a dog before Joleene came into our lives. These people don't treat them as animals, but rather than just a means to make money. The conditions are sub standard and always heartbreaking to see. When I came across this was basically on the news here when flipping channels. Suddenly my interest perked, and when coming across their site,I was completely behind their cause.

Upon choosing to take a rescue dog from Battersea, Joleene was named Pheobe and just a small little pup of 9 months who had two previous owners. The last owner brought her back to Battersea, after she claimed that this plump pooch challenged her in her own home. I asked if we could adopt Joleene and was brutally rebuffed. As If! So I did what any self respecting adult would do. I turned into a snotty four year old sullen brat. I went back three times and was unrelenting in my pursuit of this most loveable dog. They felt a dog like her belonged in the countryside. They were judging me on my physical appearance, for the fact they get a lot of mistreated Staffordshire Bull Terriers. Finally after two interviews and one house visit. Joleene was mine, a birthday present from Bren, and the best gift i have ever been given.

It is very difficult to witness animal cruelty in any form. I am always amazed that this little bundle of joy loves me, even on my worst day. Her needs are simple and she always seeks my approval and love. If I don't roll on the floor with her upon my arrival home, she will sulk until I do so. I think it's one of the high points of her day and a ritual that I love. So I will always be in support of Battersea Dogs home and pet adoption and pet rescue. I try and love like Joleene and be the best owner I can be for her, as she is my baby. Spoiled as she is, she is still a very good and obedient dog. Having a good dog takes time, patience and a lot of love and dedication, and is worth it. So if you get the chance watch the show, and check out their site.

Fuck Yeah!

I do not consider my self a writers writer. I mean ok, I drink alot and have had my fair share of illicit practices and walked away with a good stroy or two in my life, but a writer, no. I did take up writing in college and to the amusement of my professor always found me a good read to say the least. But I was flat out gobsmacked when my buddy and drinking partner Jimbo asked me to contribute to his blog Fuck Yeah Horror as writer form time to time. Being that I have a love for horror films and those old video nasties and explotaion films of yore. He was amazed at my knowledge of movies as I am a bit of a movie geek.



I dunno, maybe he was looking for something uncooth, unrefined and blatantly low brow to rile his readership. First I was flattered and then succumbed with self doubt, and then my ego kicked in and after being fueld by eight jack and cokes, I decided why the hell not. So I will be delving into my collective and give my opinion of the genre so loved my many and hated by a few too. I may make you laugh, I may even shock you with what I have contained in my library. Still this will only make you further understand the warped mind that I like to call my very own. Sow have look and see my first entry.

I chose I Spit On your Grave, or as I like to call it, "You fuck with me bitch, and I will feed you your balls!". let me know what you think.

Oh My Fucking God!

Yeah I said it and god damn it I'll say it again. Oh My Fucking God! Yesterday was the annual Value Voters Summit, where really unactractive people converged in D.C. to discuss such hot topics as how to hold grudges against slutty girls whom decide to have abortions. Why those pesky homosexuals actually dress better than their conservative straght counterparts. Real meat and potatos kind of subject matters and world events, such as Thugocracy: Fighting the Left Wing Conspiracy. Which to me translate to, "SHIT: God damn it all the way to hell, how do we get that menacing black man out of office". Others topics were, Silencing The Christians. Well one way to silence a christian conservative is to stick a dick in his mouth and that outta do it. To lighten the mood two guys took to selling Obama Waffels for "change you can taste", yet were then asked to leave as some felt the boxes were racist. Racists at a conservative convention? They hell you say!





I mean the uptight commitee was in full effect. It's amazing that reports of no furniture being sucked up through ones own ass was not reported. I am saying this because this moral majority is so fucking anally retentive. But on the bright side some gay ho strolls were probably making many benji's while the conference was on. Then again maybe not. It's always these sons of bitches that are the biggest cocksuckers. They oppose gay marriage and any kind of homosexuality of any sort, but for some god forsaken reason can't resist getting blown by male prossies in toilets of truck stop toilets somewhere in the vacinity of Hobiken... I made that last part up but you know it's true.



Still with these up tight people complaining that the news junkets covering The Tight Ass Conservative Bake Sale and Bitch Session, need to have a dose of the current trend that is taking America by storm, slapping the taste out of a complete stranger.
It wouldn't suprise me if a few Ku Klux Klan memebrs made it under the radar, as this conference is just fucking as lopsided as a Puerto Rican Tranny's ass filled with Bathroom Sillicon Filler. After all these conservatives don't live in a world where Ms. Prejean is Miss USA, or that god forbid that black men get into high seats of power. In reality they live in a world where gays suck a dick in 0 to 60 and can adopt a baby, where Ms. Carrie, "how dare my religious veiws cost me a crown" Prejean is nothing more than a Former Ms. California. Ironically this convention is simply preaching to the perverted. And yet they want to know how to get their country back? How can I say this you ask? Because this is a summit that isn't actually getting to a deeper understanding of world issues and events that are drastically changing and shaping the world we live in today. They are just bitter cause they simply forgot the memo, or never got the message that Sir Bigotry and Senora Uptight values are simply just as outdated and repressive to the missinformed and the ignorant. Plus this must have been one ugly and boring bunch, ever look at conservatives and realize just how unattractive they are, well perhaps if the lady hiked her skirt up abit, maybe show a little more cleavage. As for dick wadd, he might want to rethink that comb over and poly blend suit.

If your going to do this, you should go full throttle. I think they should have done it up right. Whip out the burning crosses, show the Grand Dragons, have the dueling banjo's, and make a list of everyone whom they think will burn in hell. (At least for this year) Come on give us some show. Other Carrie Prejean seriously trying in vain to believe her own speech, she should have been foaming at the mouth, like they do on Jerry Springer. Ok, the spliff is kicking in.. I will shut up now.

Culture For Vultures!

Here are my current Picks of Book, Movie and Music at the mo. Being that I have alot going on at the moment and trying to no become a certified bee keeper. Yes, you heard right, I am harvesting honey bees and have my own swarms. Haven't you heard Bee keeping is the new rock and roll people, so get with the program. So any mother fucker whom says you can catch more bees with honey than vinegar, better come talk to me first. So I am going to do my part and try to help out the bee population and make my own honey pot. So when they say I have a bee in my bonnet you nest fucking believe it. But here are my picks of the mo for you to check out.

Movie: Reform School Girls. Love this movie and love Wendy O' Williams. Always loved those bimbo's behind bars genre flicks. So make with the Extra Hold Aqua Net and teasing comb. Pat Ast turns in a stellar performance and with loads of good one liners to stock up on.



Music: Oxes Oxxes Cd.. Monitor records I was listening to this the other day and really forget what a great band they are. My partner is not a fan but I crank this shit up at work and find my creative flow when I am working to get my creative juices going. I made a baby cry and a woman asked me to take the music off in the shop. My reply was "look lady, I don't ask you to fucking shut your kid up when your at home. So I would appreciate it if you do the same in my establishment. Please take that child outside if you don't like it!" Well I said please, and it wasn't court ordered. Not like I sent a swarm of bees on her and the squealing brat.


Book: Shit Magnet By Jim Goad. Brilliant and funny writer and co founder of the seminal Answer Me. Brutal honesty and read through this three times over the years, A must have for any man trying to deal with his own personal demons.

Come Dine With Me!

Over the weekend I treated Bren to a movie, and since I have a thing for cooking shows I dragged him to see Julie and Julia. The film was ok, but it was the food that gabbed my goat and floated my boat. As I watch most cooking shows I am more prone to Hugh Fernley Whittingstall and Heston Blumenthal over hot head Gordon Ramsay or even Marco Pierre White, whose restaurant I have been to. But Our beloved Notting Grill is gone and we are both left with Julie's in Holland Park as our local fave. So this brought me to thinking about the new wave of restaurants that I like to inhabit. Living in London, I do have other favourites, such as Nobu and Black and Blue and Galicia on Portobello Road. Yet, my palette calls out for more screams even for bigger bolder badder. So with the trend of underground restaurants taking place over my choice for clubs, there is something to be said for the speak easy restaurants peppered all over this city.

Such as The Pale Blue Door in Hackney and The Surrealist Dinner Club these are two that are worth getting on the list for. I can act a damn fool and drink like I usually do at a family reunion and not really care, cause it ain't a party till something is broken. With limited space in such venues it is more intimate and a lot more social in such gatherings. Tony Hornecker turns his flat into an on off dinner establishment with complete with entertainment that makes this quit a nite to remember. I do enjoy cooking for large groups of people and when all else goes horribly wrong for me in the kitchen, the worst does happen. I virtually turn into my mother with one to many double jacks and the barbed bon motts keep a flowing. So if you like your mains served up with roast beef and drag queens this is a thing that will far surpass the boring old dinner party. With the Surrealist Dinner Party having a small hosting this too reminds me of Shunt Vaults.


With pop up restaurants and shops taking place all over London such as Stokey's The Secret Ingredient, it's no surprise that London is still such an amazing city to live in. So armed with my booze and appetite I will always dig in. Bon Appettite.

Who the Fuck!

It's official, I am uncool. There, I said it it. you heard me. Out at the George and Dragon grabbing a few and throwing them back after work to calm my aching nerves I ran into a good acquaintence whom I have known on the scene here form some time since moving here 11 years ago. We started talking about old age, and our sale by shelf dates when the topic of drugs came up. So before you start thinking we were doling out the Peptol Bismol and Pamprin along with the Peperation H, over Mint Julips, drugs became the topic. Now I don't partake in drug runs to Cuba like I used to as I have a partner, a shop and a high maintainence pooch to contend with. I just don't do them like I used to because I just don't like feeling like shit for three weeks.

So It was surprising that I was schooled on two new ones, MTV and Methedrone. Now it wasn;t that these two party favors flew over my head that surprised me. It was the fact that some fucking idiot thought it was good idea to concoct such a drug. As I really am not a circuit queen, never have been never will be. This Disco Dosing of MTV was by far the stupidest one I had heard of. Simply for the reason in taking it. MTV is Methamphetimine, Antiretrolviral Tenofovir, and the last bit used to treat guys with erectile dysfunction and pulmonary arterial hyper tension Viagra. Taking this would make you "immune:" from VD and the great Bug, but you took this for a weekend when you wanted to be ridden like the mechanical bull over at Gilley's and check your morals and underwear at the door. But I thought what kinda a dip shit welp thought that this was a good idea and why in the fuck would some one end up like that little old disco broad from the movie Studio 54, having a heart attack on a dance floor.

When I went out I used to see these guys fucking draged out semi conscious and somewhat breathing. And yes they always met abit of my scowlful scorn. I mean I have lost my wig a few times in a club, but who wants to be th aging dude wh can't handle his shit at a club. Certainly not me. The other was a drug named like the Brian Jones Town Massacre album- Methadrone. Apparently plant food. This one seems a little more viable as at least the reasoning behind this is who gives a shit their high on plant food. But the other just baffled me. I have to think that sometimes the gay community has become something of a large suicide cult. These are the same bitches whom have that look of catholic guilt on their faces at the free clinic. You know the ones whom looked like they just blew the whole Rectory of Priests at their mid morning cock worship.
I don't puty circuit guys as they go into debt and play on a place that is rather flat vapid and one demensional. I mean most of this whole ideology is based on the life of luxury and party with the beautiful people.

This is where I am always amazed by my dog and her needs. They are so simple and standard. Gay guys need close proximity to cock and booze. Not necessarily a bad thing, but the whole actilng like teenagers in heat does seem a little sad. But, yes I am offically uncool. I am ok with this. Because I have made my peace with it long ago. I have nothing to prove to some queen in hot pants, as I have my partner, the coolest dog in the world and a business. A brand new buss pass and a bunch of bad credit. To quoate grandpa Simpson, I used to be with it, but then they changed what "it" was. Now I found it weird and scary and just a little bit stupid.

Well Hung or Not, But Is It ART?

I was given a book a while ago on my birthday by a photographers work whom I was familiar with. To be fair it was the same old same old I had seen before. Naked men frolicking around with the supposed nuances that this man gets involved with his subjects in some way or another. Being that physique photography is nothing new, I wasn't actually moved by the work. But what bothered me more was that the son of a bitch was in most frames, taking out any mystery and erotic measure, well for me anyway. As I looked over this photographers photos, I couldn't help to think, "Excuse me, but there is a geriatric old age pensioner in almost every fucking frame." Talk about buzz kill, not to mention boner dud.




Tom Bianchi's work to me is not very erotic, nor ground breaking. This is my opinion, because this shit looks like it belongs in Palm Springs' Gay Coffee Houses or Bars. What bothers me is that homie trolls bigmuscle.com profiles to find his subjects. Nothing wrong with that, takes the element of fantasy away by his presence. Guy bending over pulling off nellie looking jock strap, and behold grandpa in the background. Guy flexing in mirror with morning glory, there that fucker is being grabby grabberson. Guy stupidly posed over Harley Davidson motorcycle and garb, and oh yes, he's there too. His photo's only turn any voyeur into a peeping tom of the sexual escapades of hyper sexed Dinosaur. Sorry but that's just how I see it.





When I look at these photos I see a facade, and a bubble that is not real, nor making want to pitch a tent in the hopes of getting hurt for a squirt. Simply pretension of a man's life, who claims to be on a "journey". I've got your fucking journey with snacks underneath. Seriously there is some predatory about trolling the internet looking for cock with the pretence to call these pictures art. Nan Goldin he is not. Nor Herb Ritts or even Bruce Webber whom do it better and leave the viewer to enter a fantasy before he ever did. R.C. Horsch took photos of female heroin addicts whom he admitted to have some sort of liaison with. The fact that this type of behaviour was enabled, with even some of the girls dying of over doses was a little to close to the bone for me. But I still did not call this art. Yet Horsch's other works show a very developed eye and mystery that Bianchi's seem to lack. Still I felt there was a parallel that they sought their subjects for the desired result of what THEY wanted.So for that is will not constitute this as art even low brow art. I would like to like Bianchi's work, but to me it's just flat and all to homogenised for the uppity supposed upward mobile gay. Not to mention that it's supposed that a 64 year old man is to have that type of physique ala natural? Nigga pleeze!



As far as photography goes I favor Nan's work to a favourite of mine whom is Joel Peter Witkin. I think Tom Bianchi has a few detractors for actually being in his work. Sure he is a handsome man, and if I were in a grandpa heat, and trolling Leisure (Seizure) World,I might consider as such, but he's not my type nor ever will be. But still I think it boils to being left to the eye of the beholder. But come on dude do you have to be fucking naked to take a man's photo. evidently not. And because Tom doesn't appear to seperate himself from his subjects, puts me off. I would admire the guy if he said out right, I am just a horny lonely old dude, and just can't live with out a cock in my throat. Then I would feel there was a bit of honesty than palming this off as something other than his own vanity. His photos don'y charge me

Hot Bitch Of The Moment!

I am a movie fanatic, but actually not a big on huge Blockbusters or anything with Arnie Shwarzenager. That is not to say that I like art films about little girls from Yugoslavia, whom one day wish to own a bicycle. But I am a sucker with a movie that shows a slut with a gun. Especially slutty midgets with gins. So in honour of this heady broad I salute her and her great cinematic achievement. But channel surfing on TV with a remote made room for the devil to make with idle hands, and grab my attention just then. There really aren't enough films with midgets and guns, let alone kicking ass. So on with the show.

Prick Up Your Ears!

If you get the chance to drag your ass to a record store, a time honoured tradition that is sadly fading away. You should check out a new sound and band to expand your rock and roll pallete. I was turned onto the Bitchwax by my client Gary and at the moment I have been banging this out of my Ipod and Iphone. As I was never a fan of Godspeed, I was fucking ape shit for Monster Magnet. Unfortunately they haven't made their way here on their last tour. Still, a fucking great Band. And this one goes out to all you whore hounds with.......S.T.D.
CRANK IT MOTHER FUCKER!