creme fraiche

before i start writing anything, im just going to announce that my reason for not blogging is because im scrutinisingly constructing an elaborate plan to overthrow the monarchy and become new head of British government and the empire. so, now thats out in the clear, i dont actually have anything to say. university is sucking my life force away like some blood lusting parasite and my brain is being wrung of all creative ideas, i find myself getting double glazed eyes and thinking about large open spaces quite often now, perhaps a visual metaphor for what is actually going on inside my head? not that it matters, because im an artist, i dont need to think because i can shit in a can and sell it to tate modern, get my name into the art world and then swiftly assassinate tracy emin for being such a moron and giving art a bad name.

anyway, im gunna start blogging more regularly again, not that any of you will care because hey, no one is interested in what i do. but for my own peace of mind, im broadcasting this loud and clear so my loyal fans can begin to make an alliance in trepidation of my uprising into the megalomanic autocracy that will be my rule. peace.

important:

FYI

alright, so here comes a little bit of angst aimed directly at the face of VICE magazine. so wassup, im getting deleted from the VBN blog roll because i have some poor internet at my uni, which i paid £125 for by the by, a massive waste of money, i could have bought a life time supply of penny sweets or atleast half a dozen kittens or a second hand volvo estate from ebay, but no, i spent it on internet that doesnt work. anyway, in relevance to that, i can barely log into my emails to see my emails from vice to tell me to blog about black pimps, music artists im not interested in and student riots etc etc. so here goes it, with my last bit of fading energy, i will tell you VICE, im now gunna use your magazines to wipe my ass and will go out with a bang, tonight i plan to get face down drunk because i was already in a shitty mood from writing a personal statement for uni and being abnormally successful at failing at life on a whole. now i have to re-write that bit about being a contributing member of a blogging group for an international magazine, so if no uni's take me for being not-so-rad, be it on your head VICE. smd, you can prize that VBN blog badge from my clammy dead grip. peace

"work hard you art fag"

the above statement is currently the piece of text im looking at, hand scrawled in what is probably about a 72pt size in relation to normal fonts, with 4 arrows pointing towards it to reiterate how important these motivational words are. and guess what kids, its working, so heres some more discriminating evidence of me being an art fag working hard.

Stags and fags.

that will be all

everyone shutup.

alright, im not going to apologise for the tardiness of this blog,

im not going write about the ins and outs of my life that may or may not interest you (most probably the latter)

and im not going to deny the fact that i have nearly polished off a whole tube of pringles to my bad self.

however; i AM going to have a good old fashioned rant.

a) youtube, stop telling me what to do, i dont care what you recommend, im not interested and i dont want to watch another montage of dragon ball Z combat scenes with some half hearted metal playing over the top.

b) no facebook i dont want to go to youmeatfuckingsix's DJ set, so stop inviting me. but thanks for the concern.

c) vans authentics, why do you insist on smelling like piss and cabbage despite my every effort to defy the stench of toe? what the hell, ive been nothing but a strong, dedicated and focused fan of your footwear for many years and you pay me back with trenchfoot. swell.

d) my bellybutton has decided to get really itchy for no reason and i dont want to touch it because last time this happened i ended up with a stinking sore bellybutton. alex warned me this happens when you poke around and that little fleshy abyss.

e) i swear degenerate inbred people are multiplying like cancerous cells. seems people arent capable of holding up a coherent conversation without one eye drifting serenely into the back of their skulls and that completely lucid look taking over their vacant faces.

f)uck.

g) touche.com is beginning to take a strangling hold on my soul. it seems i cannot draw inspiration from any other source than this damn site. touche, touche.com

h) if one more person asks me if im asian im going to freak out.

i) am really moody.

j) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EK2tWVj6lXw

thou shalt not party

to encapsulate the past month i have spent at university, all i can really say is that ive probably made my chances of liver failure in the next 20 years inevitable. apart from that theres not an awful lot i have to say, and as per usual these days im suffering from being verbally inapt. all those precious braincells i drowned and then projected onto the floor of farnham train station in the form of chunky paste via the orifice of my mouth are probably what were keeping me from being a dysfunctional lump of meat, but now theyre gone, nothing is preventing me from being a total vegetable. i think uni life has taken its tole on my already; the bags under my eyes now look like sacks of sand used to protect walls during monsoon seasons, my hair looks like a brown cheese string, my skin in a new shade of dirty beige and theres a spot on my forehead at the moment which has its own pulse and is aptly named Vesuvius II, but i suppose these are all little kick backs from a lifestyle of drunken escapades and sleep deprivation. my uni room smells like a sewer by day and feels like a sauna by night, my carpet is depressingly dirty and the henry hover the uni supplied really doesnt cut the mustard when it comes to actually sucking stuff up, i might aswell just recruit loads of people to fart in unison at my carpet to give a sort of organic leaf blower effect. my collection of empty bottles has grown fast and im adopting all sorts of exotic type of beverage, and im pretty sure social services are going to come knocking at my door and exile me for being such a massive skank... lush. anyway, apart from breaking bones, being sick, being nocturnal etc, i am actually doing some hardcore work. believe it or not. anyway, my b82rez are running super low so im going to have to cut this blog short because im not getting out of bed to retrieve the charger for love nor money. so i'll leave you with some nice pictures.