Rattle my bones,
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
she's like me, with (bigger) tits
APPROACH PERFORMANCE ART WITH CAUTION!
When it's good, it's really good. This for example is amazing. When it's bad, you end up watching a woman needlessly popping her tits out then run in circles for an hour.
Rattle my bones,
@Nino Paulito
music used for video 'fanfarianlmpro' by Alejandro & The Magic Tombolinos
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
i gate the gypsy
It's been about six weeks since I left my cosy North London home. I realise now, this is probably the most regrettable decision I have ever made.
There were so many good times including my famous 'green tea' & pizza parties, flashing the wife of the man who lives in the shed, finding half eaten rats on the door step and that one time amazing night I woke up with a fox in my bed.
I miss living solo. I miss my hole...
Rattle my bones,
Saturday, 20 November 2010
i don't want your tentacles, i just want your chemicals
Art jewellery boutique Tatty Devine recently celebrated the 1st birthday of their Covent Garden store. Nino P along with Master Jackington popped in to join the party.
We we're entertained by bad sisters, drank sparkly girl drinks, tore photos off the walls, whipped the Ultimate Warrior and sang along to squid sex ballads.
Just another Thursday night then...
Rattle my bones,
My Bad Sister, Konichiwa bitches! |
Master Jackington, sex face |
MC Gaff E, thrusts like a pro |
Nino Piano |
Some photos below by Gabriela Antunes which I collected on the night
Monday, 8 November 2010
barbecues. really bring out the c*** in a man
He got his shit fireworks from the Happy Shopper. They come in a white box labelled Meteor Family Fun. Launch poles, gloves and an emergency pail of water have already been prepared in the garden. No bonfires. Don't you dare even think about setting the shed alight either. No.
Lighting up won't start until everyone steps back to the required five metre safety zone. There's a line. We stand to watch him set off one lame rocket after another lame rocket. Woo. Can we go back inside? No. Not allowed. We have mud on our boots.
His mate is with us. A lot more laid back and doesn't care much for rules, especially his. So fuck the five metre zone, go fuck your gloves too. He launches a bunch of rockets from his fist. We cheer. He starts a fire. We're warm. He sprays some Lynx to get the flames really burning. We're all slightly a bit nervous. He sprays a half sparked sparkler. The can ignites.
Bucket of water comes in handy. His mate carries on laughing while he stands there crying and bleeding. It's all got a bit too serious now. And boring. Plus, we're cold. The fires going out and there's no more wood left on the shed. Guy Fawkes is over. We're going home.
Rattle my Bones
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