fighting, fucking, but mostly fighting

Oh hello, you'll have to excuse my neglect of you for almost twenty four hours, my beloved two current followers (by the way you two, wasn't dinner lovely tonight?) I have taken the liberty of using an exotic coloured font to excite you into forgiveness, astonish and admonish your rage away.

But I've been out, drinking, being crude you could say, and it put me in mind of some work..well..I don't know if the DWP or indeed any governmental body would apply the term 'work'..some drawings for a magazine in Newcastle run by some shitbeaks in North Shields who totally spunk over Primus.  They're nice guys. It's called Turps, and here's some stuff we used to do for it.

If this kind of crude sarcastic rubbish tickles your fancy there's more in the same vein on the goldentruncheons flickr link, which comes with the added stamp of dissaproval from the London 2012 Olympic commitee! Including, personally, the keyboardist out of Heaven 17. Yes, EVERYBODY thinks we're rubbish. May I just now take this opportunity to point out how crap The Independent is? Thanks.