Football season is over again.

'No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun - for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax - This won't hurt'

- Hunter S Thompson

I love Thompson, 3 days and it will be the 4 year anniversary of his death, I'm going out and I'm buying a bottle of whiskey and being taken for a drive. Life is good and being 17 is too.

Punk is dead.

Yesterday was such a sad and miserable day, the world just got alot less trashy and exciting.
The fact that i will never see the Cramps live is a horrid fact that i will have to get used too, learning from a text message that the messiah of psychobilly is dead, Lux Interior was like what my mother felt when Elvis died.

Punk is dead, Iggy Pop is selling car insurance and Johnny Rotten is selling butter. A sad sad day.

Stay sick Lux.

21.10.46 - 2.4.09

Going native

I dont know where i got the idea from, but some people are bent on thinking i want to become some Adam Ant type.
Taking from an old dreamcatcher, i think it looks rather nice considering i made it myself.

10,000 internets for whoever guesses the film on the tv screen. Clue - Kubrick, 1962

God loves you like he loved Jacob

Im so bored with life right now, and its all to my own doings. I need to do things, myself, make some money, but some fancy clothes and not forgetting the most important thing in life... find a beautiful woman to spend that money on.

My most precious possession

I found this beauty in my garage months back, it was inside one of them boxes filed with nostalgia. Unfortunately more or less everything inside the cardboard box was caked in mould... but amazingly this real Friday, September 1977 issue of the Daily Mirror survived.

One of the best things ever.

Pardon the reflection of the camera. I have a shit camera.

How do you Fu Manchu

That dirty one man band pussyshit.

Scott H. Biram, i felt lucky seeing him tonight.

We are beautiful

Good day.

Like a bird of like rarest spun heavenmetal

Oh joy, oh joy my brother.
Rekindling my love of a certain film, a film that made me into the man i am. It was A Clockwork Orange, not to forget the book too, but its the film that makes me want to go out and plague the street, beat the homeless and rape the women. Thank god for reality otherwise i might just go out and do it.
But still, whenever i hear Beethoven i just cant help but stiffen my neck and stare into obscurity, hardly art imitating life, just helping it along.
For the average homo-sapien i think it takes at the least 3 viewings to really understand, to remove the shock of whats actually happening and see it for the film it is and appreciate the greatness of Anthony Burgess story and the genius of Kubrick.
If, like me, you ever get this feeling when you watch a film, you wish to become the characters and then so involuntarily act like them.
Viddy well my brother, viddy well.

Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night

May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.

I'd love to be a wolf.

I walk like jayne mansfield

I was sitting in collage this afternoon and wondered while i photo shopped Charles Manson's face on the to moon, what famous person has died in the most 'rock n' rollest' way possible. Well there is the likes of James Deans high speed car crash, Monroe and Ledgers 'accidental' drug over douses but i think the number one spot goes to Jayne Mansfield, oh yes, high speed collision with a 18 wheeler container causing a full decapitation of the beautiful Mansfield. . . apparently.
Now that's rock and roll.




They look like beautiful shoes.

Shoot that poison arrow.

of course, i dont have a clue what i'm doing right now, god i wish i did.
am i an idiot for doing it, somebodies going to end up getting hurt because of it and it wont be me or you. their are so many times when i just want to say it all, i over complicate and are stupid enough to act like a dog chasing cars.

my life feels like an epic eighties ballad with bonnie tyler, well basically total eclipse of the heart.
every time i have a hunch that your even talking to somebody else i become some jealous monster, i over complicate and make shit worse for myself. call me obsessive, but i really cant picture myself with anyone else.

sometimes i dont know why i bother pursuing others, it just makes things worse.

turn around.


ahaha and theres me, deleting all of my previous blog posts to kind of exorcise all of my previous feelings, like i keep on saying, new year, new me. better









ah love these people, such an amazing night, oh charlotte, you do know who too throw 'em
we did the mash... the monster mash