Man attempting to steal truck chokes on truck driver’s tobacco spit, which he mistook for a drink. EW!

If you’re fed up with looking at your ugly vacuum cleaner, you might want to try disguising it as a giant rat in a gingham dress. There. Much better.

Sure, we tried the Faces of Addiction - where a blonde lady slowly but frighteningly morphs into first Pauline Fowler and then a deathrock skull. But trust the Yanks to go one better. Their Faces of Meth are way better than any stupid skull. We’re talking pungent reddened facial sores. We’re talking skin cracks. We’re talking total facial destruction. ROCK ON.

What was going on in this lady's mind, I wonder? "I love cats. But then, I love fractals. Cats. Fractals. Cats. Fractals. Eeny. Meeny. Miny – no! Wait! I’ve got it! I’ll combine cats and fractals into a web gallery of such astounding awesomeness that it will block out the sun! Oh my god I’m a genius." (via Alice.)

Anyway. Sorry for lack of updates. My charming wife and myself have moved from London’s newly fashionable Dalston – it’s the new Stoke Newington, y’know (*does sick*) to the fabulously scuzzy Homerton. Homotown. Hurrah! As such internet access is severely limited, and updates to the main part of this site impossible: in fact, presumably nobody is even reading this, so *takes off clothes, does a little dance* - anyway, I scribbled a review of last week's Go! Team gig for our buddies at Playlouder, so check it out!

Labels: feminism, music

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