it was cursed. cursed

looks scary? it was. nearly cost us our lives, and our beer. i’ll be staying home next halloween.

Procrastination reaches new heights with blog redesign

Thanks to these dudes for a nice blue theme made with clear heads. Should teach those drunken coders a thing or two, my DS keeps breaking. All i want is to play monkey island?!?! New favourite lyric this week from the lovely los campesinos kids*

I saw you sucking the finger of a civil servant
How you gonna bring the system down when you’re propping it up?

*whose website i just happened to design

I made things

click me nana
Like this banana. It is mad-wicked-good, you have literally no idea what is going to happen to this banana. It is for duncan and sarah’s awesome illustration site Crayon Legs. They also have badges.

badge me

I am also working on burnt progress, cos they rule and will dj with your demo. Seriously. Unless you’re rubbish. Sorry.

dancing about architecture.

I totally danced at Tate Modern’s hour-long-sweaty-crack-fest. Something of a rebirth, courtesy of mobile clubbing. I wore my orange hexicon t-shirt for exactly this sort of “Where’s Wally?” situation.

Symptoms: Tory Donor. Diagnosis: Insane.

Oh tee hee. This is the story of Mr Bane Kostic, the man who gave the Tory party it’s largest ever contribution. We’re talking £8 million, and as you or I can imagine he wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Now Mr Justice Henderson agrees and are telling the Tories to return the wad.

Mr Kostic had come to England after fighting the Nazis in Serbia. Having made his millions in the Anglo-Swiss pharmecuitical company, he settled down to become a devoted family man. This happy life was tragically arrested by what most would see as severe paranoia and dementia, but the Conservative Party viewed as philanthropy.

At some point in the 80s, Mr Kostic began to suspect that an “international sex-vice ring” under orders from Beelzebub was trying to poison him. Naturally, without proper pyschiatric treatment, he turned to the conservative party, writing to their leader Margaret Thatcher (no known record of mental illness) in 1984: “I am enclosing £5000 to fight the evil-wicked demons-SATANS and am fully at your disposal.”

Not a woman easily flustered when accepting donations, Maggie took the cash. Various Tory grandees followed suit. The only thing surprising about this is that Mr Kostic was never knighted in return. Things got weird after Mr Kostic started to believe his family were complicit with the, er, “demons-SATANS”, and proceeded to lock his wife up and live in a church crypt. This culminated in 1998 when he wrote to a lawyer asking him to change his will, to prevent his millions from getting in to the hands of “demented people - satan-monsters”. Specifically, his son.

Insane people not being allowed to write wills, in deference to the sane person they previously were, this was not Tory party money. But it took two years of litigation to get it back. The bastards are appealing.

Story told in the Guardian with glee.

Tourists Rule

Sometimes I worry that I’ll have achieved all my ambitions before reaching 25.


Worst. Hand. Ever.

giles lonely

it is a picture of myself. aah.


It is awesome to sometimes feel strong empathy with a sad little otter.

What the hell?

Come now people, listen to my podcast. Latest episode guest-presented by Nick and featuring all sorts of noisy rock to fry your synapses, if you even know where they are…

what the hell? clicky clicky!