Bicycle Headtube Badges

Got my e-balls round these kids over at Fixed Gear Switzerland. How the dick do you make one of these?

Legging it.

Thanks, Genevieve.

Mint Imperials

Right up my frig-alley, for sure. I'm that guy who is always siked on scrolls and paper planes. Via FLWRIDER.

The weather is so mean. I could actually lean on the northerly wind at the Upper Parliament crossroads this morning once my early-doors puncture party had ended. Got a nasty snakebite bad guy all up in my tube after recording some new Cold Ones demos until super dumb o'clock last night. Sounds brazenly radical; Suicidal meets FEAR meets Dead Kennedys (actually so) meets The Who.

A little boy threw Mint Imperials at a window pane in a friend's dream during last night's hailstorm.

The Rise and Inevitable Fall of The High School Suicide Cluster Band

Totally putting out a new record in May. It'll look like this and will feel like reverse board and the vinyl inside should weigh 180g. As its Moshi's 100th record they're doing 5 GOLD vinyls Will Wonka-style. Maybe the winner gets a day out in a pressing plant in the Czech Republic.

We were loading out of The Stag's Head the other night. I was carrying Al's fan and some guy said to a girl I suspect he was failing to have sex with "That's their biggest fan." Dad jokes are like nails in coffins. And mate, its not our biggest fan. My mother is, you prick.

Bargain/16 Channels/Dog/Budgie

Bargain. I can't tell if I like this or if it just looks fucking grubby.

Added 8 more channels to my 8 channel recording rig. Doing a session with Cold Ones tomorrow. Psyched.

A dog was going bonkers in the alley whilst I was taking out the rubbish this afternoon. He kept popping his tiny head through the perfectly square hole the rats have chewed into the bottom of the door and barking. "Hey! You there! I'm over here!" I assume he was saying.

Al went to buy a budgie today. I'm happy for him. The last one he owned brought him the most insane amount of joy. "I used to pretend to people that I'd trained him. Get on my head, I'd say and he'd do it."

Scrollio

Next time I'm struggling, remind me how ace the detail on the Nebraska scroll is. Via Draplin.

Harry Main vs Voo

Harry Main section up on the Nike site. I just realised whilst watching it, it was myself and some mates who provided the 'nah nah nah nah nahs' in a house where I now live.

Punk Rock Piss Shot.

Fat Mike has lost his shit a bit. Words.

Vegan Mushroom Risotto Recipe

Is there a reason you're not already frying a chopped onion and some fucking garlic in a pot? Get some OLIVE OIL and do it, just like you would when you make any other other meal in the world that's worth fucking eating. Throw in the mushrooms, bird brain. WAIT! ha! You're using dried mushrooms from that cess-pit of a world food shop in your vile little city? LET ME GUESS...you haven't soaked them yet? REWIND, EINSTEIN. Do that before you do anything else.

A risotto is made of Arborio rice. Sometimes in supermarkets they call it "Risotto Rice" or they'll at least write "THIS RICE IS FOR FUCKING RISOTTOS, DICK-EATER" underneath whatever dick-suck font they've written 'Arborio Rice' in on the packet. It'll probably tell you how much to put in as well, per person. If it doesn't, trying taking a fucking chance on fate and stop being a pussy. Guesswork is what made this country great, not crying like a little girl in a PINK dress in a student kitchen.

If you're a pisshead you'll have some dogshit week-old white wine sitting in your fridge. Take it out. Swig from the bottle. If that mouthful feels like the jigsaw piece that's been missing from your day then DON'T WORRY; It just so happens that you've been doing the right thing for far too long and that the rest of the world can't keep up with your awesomeness. Phone your boss. Quit your job. Pour in some wine, but leave just enough so you piss your pants and panic-phone your old boyfriend/girlfriend later on in the evening. Get one of those vegetable stock cubes that your retarded friend tried to smoke at your last FAILED house party. It'll come in handy seeing as you're about to make some stock. There will be instructions on the back of the box that will tell you how to make it. If you can't read them, like your retarded friend, call your mother. Tell her that you were a fucking mistake.

Now, I know you're a keen little sort; always sticking your dick in things that aren't people and showing your poetry to girls who you will never get to fuck, but this next step will require a little PATIENCE. As you add the stock, the rice will begin to absorb it. If you add too much stock your rice will go to shit. Wait for the stock to be absorbed then add a little more. Use a fucking ladle or whatever. Repeat until the rice is all plump and tender and represents something you might want to eat, not something you have already eaten.

Remember those mushrooms you were soaking? Of course you do, Kim Peek. Drain them and chop them up. Throw them in the pot. This bit is easy and requires little brain power, so maybe you could have a little think about why your older brother or sister is far more successful than you. Maybe you could also do us all a favour and plan to remove all those pathetic photos you took of yourself and posted on Facebook.

Holy fuck! Does it smell good? It should do if you've done everything right. All that's left to do before you and your friends fill your cretinous faces is to add a handful of fresh parsley and a knob of dairy-free margarine. Check that you laughed at the word 'knob', string up a noose and use the fuck out of it. If however, you didn't, stir in some salt and black pepper, serve in a bowl, and for fuck's sake, try not to eat it with your hands. Oh, and if your non-vegan friends want to sprinkle a little Parmesan cheese on the top, you should let them. Do not call them rapists. They'll be needing no encouragement in thinking that you're a total wanker.

Get free trainers or die trying.

My friends have got this band called Voo and some dudes what ride BMX's reckon that their instrumental song SCHNICK SCHNACK SCHNUCK would make their videos of them riding their BMX's look totally great. It's for some guys called NIKE! I reckon 2010 might be their year.

Anyway, Voo are flinging this particular song all up in Itunes in the next few days and wanted me to throw something together super-swiftly based on some type design I have done for them in the past.

The video will be up tomorrow over here. Here's a toast to bicycles and free trainers.

Lost Art Masonic Lodge

The Illuminati are recruiting skaters gone conspiracy theorists. 4 possible colourways. Let's see what happens, and if it happens, did it really happen?

Open Mic Night.

Everyone played guitar as though they were performing a bad wank.

Masonic Lodge of Skateboarding.

Peanut butter on olive bread is a curious combination but certainly not an unwelcome one. I can't stop lashing my eyes around Masonic symbols. Current research for a new Lost Art shirt. It's nearly finished, and nearly not as satanic as the previous one.

Going to walk a Beagle called Poppy tomorrow. DOG CLUB. Get in.

Tired

Started getting that thing in the morning where I look like a burns victim.

ASG/HCdP

Here's some type what I did for a rock music band what some friends are in. Getting it all lashed-up on a T-shirt and on the front of their debut album "Set A Fire In Your Heart". The brief was ace: "Make it NOT psychobilly. I like Victorians."

We have two more days in which to make the new Hot Club EP exist. We're all set up in Robert's live room, recording like urgent animals as Robert tenderly mixes in the control room. I belted off the final two lead vocals last night at dumb o'clock. There was a party downstairs in Leaf. The disco slipped into the lift shaft and rattled around the 5th floor in between takes.

The Rise and Inevitable Fall of the High School Suicide Cluster Band is due in late May.

Cheap Shit

The front cover of this record could've been better.

KORAD

Totally can't get over this.

Spotted by Willie and via Facefuck.

Are you speaking clearly, you bog-eyed posho?

What do record company t-shirts look like? Maybe something along the lines of the above. First bite at a project I am still yet to learn ANYTHING about. I do know it's for Asos and that out of my friends, girls have heard of it and boys haven't.

Last week:

Man in car winds down the window. Cross-eyed and well spoken.

"What a dumb place for those stupid pikeys to dump their rubbish."

Alasdair.

"Well in, you bog-eyed Posho."

More Prayers for the Prayer Free

The boys in Lost Art have re-upped on my Prayer Free Since '99 T-shirt design, this time in a lovely blue T-shirt and a big fat grey hoody. Russ' latest shirt (which is totally fucking ace) is back in, as well as that age-old awesome Biggie T.

Time left 0:59. Money Earned $0.00

Maybe I'm tired and kind of brittle after making the coffee too strong, but this image is a right old wreckling ball to the good thoughts. My dream last night had me trying to plug my guitar into a Traynor stack too tall for me to reach the jack input. My literal brain is a dickhead.

Fuck you, the stairs.

Otterspool Promenade by the Chinese Restaurant that sometimes smells good and had something to do with the Crosby Cockle pickers (am I making that up?). An awesome, huge, buzz-cut flat-top Turkish dude folded onto some sleek stolen carbon road bike clatters down the two-set with undue care and attention. His flippancy was absolutely fucking brutal.

Totally ace.

Life is a rich tapestry, Clive.

Thought about this the other day. Reminds me of Duncan's old bedroom, way before we liked taking drugs and Guided by Voices and just months after we loved Subbuteo, drawing Brian May's Red Special and probably the Beano. It was insanely difficult and I assume there was no way of reaching a successful ending. Come to think of it, I don't recall completing any Commodore or Spectrum games other than maybe doing well on Rugby Boss as Runcorn. There was something so British about Rock Star Ate My Hamster that I can't quite put my finger on, but probably could if presented with the rare opportunity to ever see that game again.

Whilst on olden days, I loved playing the demo of Fantastic Mr Fox that came on the front of Commodore Format but never bought the game. I was probably 7 with no disposable income. When I watched the scene in Wes Anderson's movie-film, the opening left-to-right platform game-style scene sent my mind scuttling back to those long days up in the loft with my brother and I wondered, was that long-forgotten game at any point inspiration for the animation?

So Sick of Goodbyes

I wish this wasn't the week that poor Mark Linkous took his own life. A good brain, a special way with words and a voice that sadly spewed them forth into a cruel world.

"I want my records back and that motorcycle gas tank I spraypainted black."

RIP.

Romance.

"Sometimes it makes me so sad that there is so much beauty in the world and that it might not be possible to stick my dick in all of it."

Break. Break a leg.

Went legging off for a bit. 17 cities with fine friends in most. Back to business.

Fly Within The Loaf. The technician from the art school and I talked at the bar.

"How's your band?"
"Third album time, old man."
"Will you sign my fake leg?"
"Yeah, of course."

Rolls up trouser leg to reveal a baby pink prosthetic limb with a skin-effect coating covered in signatures.

"Sign it there, right under Suggs."

Photographic proof to follow.