Sunday, 21 February 2010


As promised, here's some fantastic looking shots from the second (of hopefully many) W.W.Eat.

Yeah, yeah, yeah Carlsberg is pisswater but the boys down at Speciality Wines, New Cross Gate refused to give their most loyal customers a discount and, well, fuck paying £20 for a crate of Red Stripe.

The Last Supper, a D-X t-shirt, a drawing of Dr. Dre and a traffic cone. Living it up shitroom style. 

Wrestlemania 2000 on the N64 was still surprisingly great even if the characters are made up of comically large blocks. 

No homo, but Jethro looks positively post-coital here.

We got thighs as thick as Lampard's.

Chicken, weights, empty cans. Thugged out. 

Such a sick/legit/rad/sweet night. Even if we got par'd by the guys in the off license. The chicken was better than last time. The chips were a delight. And Shawn Michaels vs Undertaker in a Hell in a Cell match was as intense as you'd expect.

All photos courtesy of Sean Parker.

Friday, 19 February 2010


I'm currently snowed under with work and my machismo is slowly fading out of me so I got a girl to write about fit birds. Here was her top 5:

Through desperate times and a lack of male writers, I have been granted the opportunity to write a list of my top 5 celebrity babes. I imagine that the testosterone filled readers of this blog are going to disagree with a couple of the choices. Sadly boys bums, boobs and legs weren't contributing factors to who made the list. Rather this list is a definitive selection of the women who I would sell my soul to look like.

5. Cheryl Cole - The commercial machine that is Mrs Cole was a must on a list of babes. After a rather messy one night stand between her husband and a tacky looking hairdresser, Cheryl transformed into one of the biggest and most beautiful stars of 2009. I will admit her constant presence in every celebrity magazine is tiring but she is stunning and her body is amazing. If only infidelity did this to every woman. 

4. Freida Pinto - Talented actress, amazingly beautiful and has only sold out to one advertising contract. I would take a guess that we will be seeing a lot more from Freida in the future.


3. Eva Green - I will admit that part of the appeal of Eva Green is that she has pale skin and dark hair. This means that during extremely drunken or hysterical moments I can look in a mirror and kid myself that I look slightly like her. I don't. However she is undeniably a babe and if you don't believe me then watch Casino Royale, she looks amazing. No wonder Bond was on a bit of a downer when she died.


2. Alexa Chung - If you don't understand this one then I urge you to buy March's Vogue. Any girl that can look that incredible with messy hair and a hideous jumper on is a must. The celebrity my mind always flickers to when I wake up with bed hair and only men's checked shirts left in my wardrobe. If Alexa can pull off that look we all can, no?


1. Kate Moss - She may have had a drug addiction, gone out with Pete Doherty and produced an over priced collection for Topshop but Kate Moss is still as iconic and enviable as when she started modelling at 16. Strangely every mistake she makes seems to make me more jealous of her looks and body. She may be in her thirties but Kate's looks are still coveted and jealousy inducing. My number one celebrity babe.

Sunday, 14 February 2010


Just before Christmas, Jethro hosted the inaugural W.W.Eat. It was a night for New Cross lads to jam out in the shit room at 169 with fried chicken (104 pieces) beer (48 cans) and wrestling videos (a Royal Rumble and a Wrestlemania). The night was a roaring success  even though I stumbled home at 10pm, convinced it was at least 3am. Here are some photos that Marcus took of the first night:

The wok was full to the brim with Iceland's version of KFC. The bowl of chips next to it was rad; space restraints led to us microwaving those badboys for half an hour before crisping them up in the grill. Surprisingly good.

Post chicken/Post-beer

Have you ever seen something so manly in New Cross?

Friday night saw ROUND TWO of W.W.Eat. We upgraded; there were new additions to the roster. Marcus brought round some classic old skool WWF action. We got more chicken then ever. More beer too. Shit was rowdy. Photos will follow.

Thursday, 21 January 2010

On...Nuts magazine

I've loved magazines since I was a child. All my pocket money, when I wasn't buying Pokémon card etc, went on them. I subscribed to NME and Mojo for a few years, currently a subscriber to the Wire and blah blah blah. But one strand of magazines I've ever read is the lads mag. Not being the most obviously macho person ever throughout my teens I held the view that the likes of Nuts, Zoo, FHM etc were for idiots. I'd descirbe certain drinks, films, clubs, bands as 'something for Nuts readers', a stereotype I'd created that fitted boys who celebrated tits, nasty tackles and WKD and seemingly nothing else. The idea of this blog is to examine aspects of 'lads' culture from the position of young men outside this world, so it seemed reasonable to buy a lads mag and take a look at it, examining how it displays its ideology and if it reflects what this writer thinks it will.

I walked into my local branch of Tesco metro armed with a few quid and came out with a copy of Nuts and a tin of own brand baked beans. It was one of my bleakest purchases ever, a horrifying flashforward into a life on unrelenting lonliness punctuated by half-hearted wanks over semi naked soap stars.

I picked Nuts up by accident, thinking I'd grabbed Zoo instead which boasted of "100 Naked Women Inside!", which was an offer too good to refuse. But Nuts was going to offer me "Britain's Sexiest Bums" an attractive proposition that was slightly soured by the fact it was, somewhat ambiguously, 'presented' by WAG/Big Brother racist Danielle Lloyd.

I've decided to break my exploration of Nuts down in to a page-by-page analysis. Here it goes:

Front page: Visually unappealing mess of garish colours, cheap fonts and airbrushed arses.

Pages 4-5: This is 'Nuts News' apparently, and this weeks news is that the actress Megan Fox has done an advert for Armani and she stands around in her underwear in it. I'm not entirely sure how this is news and/or deserving of a double page spread but there you go. There's one photo involving her standing with her right arm straight up in the air and the left grabbing it at the elbow which comes with the slightly odd caption, 'Bloody Circle Line!' I think the reader is meant to laugh at the juxtaposition of a famous Hollywood actress and the mundaneness of the tube line. It's either that or a reference to periods.

Pages 6-7: 'Plane eats plane!' screams the headline but in reality it's just a picture of an Airbus Beluga, a plane that carries other parts of plane around. I'm not sure who's going to be impressed by this. The captions are reminiscent of the ones I used to piss myself laughing about in Cub Scout annuals when I was eight but now seem embarrassing. Sample: "Buuurrrrrrrrrrrp! Oooh, pardon my manners" goes alongside a photo of the plane. You'd be hard pressed to even smirk at this after eight WKDs.

Pages 8-9: Some bird from the Twilight films is starring in an advert that involves her having her boobs painted to look like scales. Cue hilarious jokes about trying to use paint thinner to see some tits.

Pages 10-11: WOAHHHHH A CAR! A BIG, SHINY, EXPENSIVE CAR! This one is an Audi that produces an e-torque of 1955 lb/ft! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!

Pages 12-13: This is a double spread entitled 'Rude News' and it features some girls going sledging in their bikinis, a glamour model holding her chest in the sea, a very blurry picture of Billie Piper pretending to have sex with someone in a TV show and, this is the highlight, Xena Warrior Princess showing off one of her baps in profile. OH and Lucy Pinder allowing her nipples to slip between her fingers resulting in her breasts looking like the eyes of a sleep deprived mother.

Page 14: Just an advery for Brylcreem. Does anyone use Brylcreem? I only ever see it in Poundland.

Page 15: The funniest page in the magazine. It's all about Nuts 'signing' the 3D animated football comic 'Striker' from The Sun. Striker looks like a badly rendered Playstation one cut-scene. But you've gotta love a comic including characters like 'bonkers Haitian keeper Rufus Lebonque' and my favourite, 'tough-tackling (but gay!) defender Phil "Hello Boys" Austin'. Glad homophobia is still alive and kicking. LOL GEDDIT.

Page 16: Throw away section about a man who lip reads footballers swearing. Nuts then obscure the swear words rendering the section obsolete.

Page 17: an advert for fucking Sky1

Pages 18-21: these are all about CRAZY new gadgets that will: allow you to Skype in HD, shout 'RADIO ONE' in your car and be subjected to a load of twats playing awful music, AND sexy robots who actually look like Cat Power if she'd been smashed with a hammer repeatedly mid-blowjob.

Pages 22 -23: An advert for chlamydia testing featuring, strangely, two floating cushions at a train station talking to one another/a badly written piece about some twat who got his foot shredded by a propeller. Any suspense as to his safety is shattered by a large text box saying 'HE'S OK NOW!!!' in huge letters.

Pages 24-25: a picture of a fish being bitten by a seal/an advert for blockbuster. The issues low point.

the next two pages are really shit adverts. skip them.

Pages 28-29: This is the letters section. I was looking forward to this actually, wondering what delights the Nuts readership would send in, what knowledge they wanted to impart to their fellow man. I was saddened, then, to see two pages of snow penises, men vomiting and funny foreign signs. Oh and one very odd section called 'Stealth Bumming Corner' where Tom "The Original Stealth Bummer" told people off for copying his schtick of walking up to unsuspecting men and pretending to bum them. Har har har, bumming is funny!

Pages 30-31: BIG PAGE OF JOKES, except I failed to find a single one that was even vaguely amusing. Jeremy Clarkson slagged off poor people though, so i'm sure the Nuts demographic loved that one. And somehow I don't think Rich Hall is a 'mate' of Nuts'.

Page 32: I was promised 'Camera Phone Comedy'... and well, someone sent in a photo of some sweet and sour chicken that looked like a bad drawing of an erect penis so I think it lived up to its title. Can you guess what the person who sent it in suggests the item on the menu SHOULD have been called?

Page 35: This one actually made me laugh out loud, but for the wrong reasons. It's a section called 'Pop Out in Public' so the premise is simple. But there was one photo that had me crying with laughter. A woman who looked EXACTLY like me, topless, in the snow, wearing a dodgy hat. She looks like a terminally ill me. hahaahahahahahahahah. There was also a photo of two girls with really pert bums with the letters' N U' and 'T  S' written on them, which was kinda cool.

Page 36: Photos of people who got shitty (literally in the case of the Asian/New Zealander Stacie Fernando, who got a tattoo of a pile of shit because his friends often told him he was 'poo coloured'. charming) tattoos. My favourite was Martin Edmunds' one. He got Mickey Mouse sporting a comically large boner tattood on his stomach. 'The women seem to love it!' he lies to us.

Pages 38-39: This was an interview with Ray Winstone, an actor who's been in one good film but has attained legendary lad status. The interview tells us nothing interesting really, but is peppered with boring annecdotes that might might some idiots laugh. SMRIK at the time Ray's friend went swimming and everyone saw one of his balls ("It was hilarious but horrific!")! CHORTLE as Ray breaks his ribs on the set of Beowulf ("Silly as a bag of bollocks!"). SINK INTO A MILD DEPRESSION as you realise people actually idolise this talentless wanker.

Pages 40-41: reminded me of Match magazine, it's literally just photos of footballers nearly hurting each other.

the section about shooting pirates was skipped over.

Pages 44-55: AWWWW YEAHH, this is it, this is BRITAIN'S! BEST! BUMS! Does what it says on the tin, thick looking girls pose for us with their bums out and nipples obscured. There's nothing sexual about any of these photos in the slightest and I'd worry if anyone over the age of 14 was busting nuts over this. You learn some good stuff though, if Danielle Lloyd was made PM for the day she'd sack Gordon Brown and then cut taxes. "Takes are sh*t - make sure you put that in!". She's a wise old owl, this Lloyd bird. The other girls in the photo shoot drone on and on about rubbing cocoa butter all over their arses/doing ballet in the nude/staring at their own bums post-shower like some narcissistic cunt/sunbathing nude - all stuff designed to get men drooling/blatting over the pages.

Then there was some stuff about snow sports/Chris Kamara. I love Kammy so i'm not commenting. In fact, all the football stuff was boring as fuck. We got back to girls pretty quick tho:

Pages 68-70: Man, these are Bedroom Babes? No. No. Just no, unless you like square-jawed, squashed-faced versions of Aleisha Dixon with nipples the size of Smarties, staring vacantly down the camera.

Page 74: This contained photos of SEXY LOCAL GIRLS ON YOUR MOBILE. Except they all looked like harrowing photos of women forced into prostitution, begging the reader to pay a few quid for a blurry shot of their partially obscured slot.

Page 75: This is a page where ladies confess sexy secrets, none of which are sexy. I did laugh hard at a story simply being titled: 'My man slid his fingers in me', wherein, well, a man fingers his bird at the local pool. Classy couple.

Page 77: The, frankly bizarrely named 'Babes of Mynuts", (is this meant to be a pun? am i being outwitted by the Nuts staff?) page featured a girl who looked like someone I went to school with (who looked like a divorced 40 year old anyway) posing with a lolly, looking uncomfortable, baps out. There was a haunted look in her eye.

The rest of the magazine was TV listings/DVD reviews.

So, what did I learn? Well, the people the Nuts stuff write for are obviously idiots. The standard of writing is dreadful, but this wasn't surprising. The girls aren't my type. I don't think gross photos are funny. I think I wasted £1.70

Wednesday, 2 December 2009







Monday, 16 November 2009

The In-Can Scuba And Me

This is a piece by Jethro Holman and it is about beer.

I recently moved up to London to go to university, It
instantly became clear to me that everybody drinks a lot more here and they
drink it hard and fast. Before living here I was based in Brighton, It’s a lot
more relaxed there. If we where all going out I would get about 6 cans in and
have around 2 hours to get them down and enjoy them. When this was the case I
used to drink Kronenbourg, it was my favourite lager due a lot to the image I
felt it gave of me to everyone else. For me Kronenbourg was a mans lager and I
cant really tell the difference between most lagers.

So after moving up to London it became clear that to be
socially accepted I was to be drinking more and drinking it faster. I picked up
my normal amount of cans and had a session before going to a club with my
housemates, I drunk my beers at the speed everyone else was and realised that I
had finished everything early and that I felt like shit. Due to the immense
amount of bubbles in a cheap lager I thought that I was going to have a baby.

This became my biggest problem with drinking beer fast,
there where a few different options to solve the bubbles issue.

-Drink spirits with juice/soft drink

-Go for the keg you buy from supermarkets

-In can scuba

After a few nights on the spirits I realised that is hit my
harder than when I was on the cans, I got far to drunk to quickly and peeked
before I even got to the clubs so this wasn’t really an option for me.

The keg seemed a good idea as it is about the same price as
getting the cans in. I had a couple of nights on the keg I felt like a massive
plonker as all of my mates are hanging about with bottles and cans and fro away
things while I am running back and forward to the fridge and hanging about with
a big pint glass. This is all very well and good if you are hanging about in
the pub in a gentler atmosphere but in my house when we are pre-drinking we
seem to listen to a lot of Grime and R&B to get into the mood. Therefore
wandering around with a glass isn’t a good move.

So my last resort was to go for the new thing of getting a
can with an in-can scuba. This is an odd little ball sort of like a ping-pong
ball with a hole in it that filters out the bubbled to make it taste like
draught. I soon realise that on these cans I can neck a beer in one or two
massive sips because there are no bubbles getting the way. So in an hour pre
drinking session I can neck 8 or 9 cans which for me seems to be the perfect
amount to have a good night. 

So for all you ‘lads’ who are having the issue how to get
the cans in and not feel bloated beyond belief I recommend to you the in-can
scuba, It has changed my university life and made my world a much better place.


Football Manager and Me

Jack Potter is a lad currently studying in Liverpool. He likes drinking Fosters, playing football and listening to Lil Wayne.

The Football Manager series of computer games is something, I find, like many other teenage boys, to be a rather embarrassing addiction. Previously known as Championship Manager, or ‘Champ Man to its rather vehement fans, the game’s addictive nature can seen to be almost comparable to ‘virtual crack’. Fortunately, I’ve never felt the need to take time off work or school to finish another season in the late 2020s taking Huddersfield Town to another Premiership title. But grudgingly withdrawing from the screen as the sun comes up is not an uncommon experience.

The game itself seems to provide some sort of escapism for some players. How else will you ever see your local club sign Brazilian international strikers for £50m? Being an extremely mediocre football player of arguably only Sunday league standard, I can only dream, rather pathetically, of appearing on the game’s database, but I still feel real pride in pulling off another spectacular deadline day transfer coup. Spending hours scouring the transfer market for potential signings and trawling through the squad lists of the Slovenian First Division on what is, essentially, a tarted-up Excel spreadsheet in hope of unearthing a future world beating defensive midfielder is an entirely rewarding pursuit on any Sunday afternoon.

The ‘game’, and its status as such is probably completely arguable, is not particularly attractive nor, to the outsider, particularly interesting. Appearing to be completely incomprehensible to non-football fans, the idea of watching a computer program play out virtual games of football, with what appears to be very little user input, seems rather absurd. Having to explain embarrassingly to female flatmates why one is still awake at 3am watching coloured dots play football is not a pleasant task for any university fresher.

I’ve heard of friends staying up for days straight playing that one next game, knowing that you can’t quit while you’re winning and you certainly can’t go to bed on a loss, and even putting on suits and holding imaginary press conferences ahead of virtual European Cup finals. I’ve been red-faced in front of relatives and friends for my foul language; I’ve broken keyboards, punched walls and stabbed office chairs. All because of late goals conceded away to Darlington in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy quarter-final. Reports of at least 35 divorce cases citing the series as a contributory factor in the breakdown of a marriage seem wholly reasonable.

But despite all of this, nobody will ever come close to the spectacularly named Tonton Zola Moukoko. Watching the Swedish midfielder of Ghanaian heritage lead my Peterhead team from the Scottish Third Division to European glory on CM 00/01 in a 5-1 win against the mighty Juventus, after literal days of play, may be amongst the proudest moments of my childhood. Sadly for Tonton, his career never hit the heights of his Championship Manager heyday, and he currently turns out on a Saturday for Atlantis FC in the Finnish second tier. It’s good to know he’s still a top level footballer at heart though; he didn’t even accept my Facebook request.


About Me

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I'm a creative writing student at Goldsmiths. That's about it?