We’ve all seen the Father and Daughter beat box video and for those of you who delved deeper or boy the b’s from back in the day (or from just being interested) then you know they both have skills. Nicole simply smashes a blend of old school and stupid robot porn SFX with a secret jazz voice under all that swagger.

What I love about these two is that I often wondered what it would be like to have a relationship like this with my Dad, which didn’t involved much hip hop at the best of times, but a lot of fresh crispy duck.

When I found this clip I was so pleased, not only are these two on POINT in the kitchen but the resigned agony in the Mothers voice has tinges of pure pride and SHUT THE FUCK UP! I bet she loves them both, and so she should. They are amazing. If they lived with me and started doing that shit when I was watching Dr Who, well, that would be another story, I wouldn’t give a fuck what they were cooking.

Either way, enjoy the clip. They smash the shit out of supper.


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Watching Jeremy Kyle as I do in secret, I am always amazed by the level of personal outpouring these people do. Airing bedroom antics and sibling rivalries for the world to see! Who would do that?

Shit! I guess I would.

I’m starting to worry a little about how my books going to be received. I’m sure it will offend someone along the way and selfishly I used the experiences that shaped my past to fuel the pages, but what is a story without experience? A comic strip adventure perhaps? Who knows. I certainly don’t. All I do know is that I love watching Jeremy Kyle and in less then 3 minutes I’ll also know if he is the Father. 

I wonder if it will look like the mum?


slow-computer.jpgI spent all my life playing video games and playing with things with buttons and lights that made noises so why is it so hard to design a website that isn’t a compromise. Okay, I haven’t paid for the ‘Premium’ version and I’ve chosen to make it myself, which could be part of the problem.

I wish I ticked the box that said ‘web design’ instead of ‘massage’ when I chose my Uni timetable. Don’t get me wrong, spending an afternoon with a class full of hot nubile students was a delight, but now as I sit here and hold my breath each time I try and change one single full stop in this self promoting vanity fest of a website, I wish I’d ticked the other fucking box.



Secret passwords.


passwrods.jpgHaving spent most of today trying to fadge together a presentable website so I can hopefully sell this book I wrote and get my old face in at least one episode of Dr Who before I knock off to the big beach skatepark in the skizzle, I feel that the world is now too full of passwords.

Secret phrases that stand between you and your money, your details your train tickets and your sanity.

Even the polite friendly lady on the phone laughed when I said that calling an eight digit number a ‘secret word’ was possibly confusing.

It was good she laughed.