i'd be on cell c if trevor had done this

but he didn't.

now get the fuck outta my chair.

i'd like my name in capitals

even though this blog runs the risk of becoming one of those hipster crap piles of other peoples' work. this is almost worth it.

maybe.

this is

wieden+kennedy just being awesome again.

in honour of all that makes no sense

i've posted this.



so that i can brag about 3 loerie nominations. yes you may congratulate konrad and i.

skinny mini pig

in moments of deep personal darkness fueled by endless self-doubt i wonder if doing another pug post on this blog will help.

so. i stopped wondering and did it. now i know that it doesn't help.

a cockney gentleman once informed me of the only difference between a grave and a rut. in a grave, the ends are closer.

oh, well here's two pugs. the little one is only two months old but has already invented the faecal cluster bomb. little genius.





click the images to be transported elsewhwere. i was feeling artistic and cropped them as portrait here. there's a whole landscape world to these images waiting to be discovered at flickr.
and there's two more shots just to spice up an already stinging hot offer.

when i'm really rich one day

my pleasure mike.

happy birthday mike

and just cos it's from a vending machine doesn't mean it's last-minute.

its my birthday tomorrow.

and what better way to celebrate with an annoyingly large post!

seriously though i have no idea what to do about it so i'm probably just gonna do some stupid pub bullshit! or just have it next week.

using a business card as helicopter skids

is about the most creative thing i've done in the last few days. months.

but i won't show you that. instead here's a video by someone else. it was too cool/bizarre not to post. besides, april needs something. and jesse's in the algarve loving life. so don't expect much.

i was asked to describe myself this weekend...

all i had was generally cool mother fucker

can someone please say corporate identity?

in the absence of any real work of my own

here's some fantastically coordinated girls dancing. to a song that makes me feel like i'm exempt from responsibility.

feel like a kid in a classic film.

justice crackmillan

proving that every wider global incident is nothing more than a fractal of smaller human interactions, this fat kid (proletariat) libya's (verb) this annoying little dipshit richboy (dictator).

in fact i like to think this is where the term 'overthrow' was derived from.

oh its here alright.

i really looove drawing divorce comics

best line i've heard all day. and week. and month.