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Showing posts with label tattoo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tattoo. Show all posts

Monday, 11 April 2016

Monday, 4 April 2016

...& the devil in a black dress watches over...

I'm rather fond of a devil & a recent conversation reminded me of the line from Temple of Love by The Sisters of Mercy mentioning the 'devil in a black dress' so I thought it'd be a shame not to depict one.

More devils?

Go here!

Thursday, 3 March 2016

Tuesday, 22 December 2015

Winter Solstice...

I trust you all have your winter solstice / Xmas costumes ready? I know I have!

Monday, 20 July 2015

You can't do that sort of thing any more!

A Compendium of Unwise Pursuits. 

NB Smoking & fighting is NOT big or clever kids!

(part of the 'Steve May rather hinders his career as a children's illustrator by drawing fighting & smoking' series - I may be a bit of an idiot! ; )

Friday, 11 April 2014


Be nice to each other y'hear? x

Monday, 17 March 2014

Sullen rock teen

Following on from the ageing rockers in a previous post...

Friday, 27 May 2011

Lions & Tigers & Bears (oh my!)

Detail from previous post - am most perplexed why more people don't want Wizard of Oz tattoos theses days

Thursday, 26 May 2011

Zombie Arcade (slight return)

Some more good retro wholesome made-up horror comic stuff for you kids*!

Available at all good newsagents (& a fair few sh*tty ones too)

*this is what comes of a childhood spent in a seaside town watching too many horror films & reading too many comics...

Friday, 11 March 2011

Zombie Arcade

From all good newsagents* (& a fair few sh*tty ones too!)

* this is a lie

Saturday, 6 November 2010

The Guardian - Michael Holden's All Ears 6th November

Yep! I'm available for tattoos & children's parties too!
- the knuckle tattoo 'toys' hails from a situation in a Brighton bar where upon being ejected from the premises by the door security the ejectee turned to said bouncer, held his fists up & loudly exclaimed 'What do you think these are?!? F*CKING TOYS??!?!'
Anyway, article follows shortly...

(Article by Michael Holden)
I was on a bus one evening as it stopped by the local fair. A man
boarded, came and sat upstairs directly in front of me, although we
were the only passengers. He looked a lot like someone who might work
at the fair, although I always thought having access to a vehicle
would be one of the perks of such employment. Either way, he was up on
the bus when he started talking, initially to himself, facing his
reflection in window.

Man 1 “I wish this driver would hurry up. I’ve only had two hours
sleep. I did nine hours on the rides. Can’t be strapping kids in if
I’m tired. Health and safety. Health and safety! Can’t sleep. Can’t
sleep in that room. Full of car boot stuff…every weekend. I’m gonn
have to have a word with her. And the spare room. She won’t shift it.
Every weekend…more and more.”

At the next stop a man got on with his young son, who was holding a
massive blue bear, the sight of which was enough to nudge the first
man from his monologue.

Man 1 “Been to fair?”

Man 2 “Yeah.”

Man 1 (addressing the kid) “Win that, did you?”

Kid (proudly) “Yeah.”

Man 1 “I’ll tell you how clean them bears.”

Kid “How?”

Man 1 “ What you want is a polythene bag full of bicarb. Like a
carrier bag. Stick the bear in and shake it up, give it a good shake.
It’ll come out good as new. It works better if you got a few of them.”

Kid “Bags?”

Man 1 “Bears.”

Man 2 (to his son) “You remember that now.”

Man 1 “You’ll have to go back and win some more.”

Man 2 “Yeah. We will”

Kid “Really?”

Man 2 “Maybe.”

Good luck, I thought. Just keep an eye on who’s strapping you into the rides.

Saturday, 23 October 2010

The Guardian - Michael Holden's All Ears 23rd October

Funnily enough I saw a perfect ageing '70s throwback skinhead in Bethnal Green this morning - maybe there's a reserve somewhere where old youth cults go to live & occasionally let them out on special occasions...oh sorry, what's that you say? It's called Camden Market?
The more decrepit (& geeky) of you might also notice that the phone number I used is the old Swap Shop number - brings up scary visions of sex with the ghost of Noel Edmonds past - enjoy your breakfast!

(Article by Michael Holden)
Although the calibre of their contents may fluctuate, galleries remain a reliable source of strangers' conversations. Like people leaving the cinema, people staring at art like to discuss what they've seen. Sometimes, though, the more intriguing dialogues come from events unrelated to the pictures.

Man 1 (returning) "You see that graffiti?"

Man 2 "In here?"

Man 1 "No. In the toilet. I couldn't believe it. It's like going back in time."

Man 2 "How do you mean?"

Man 1 (spelling it out with his finger) "It says, 'NF', like the two letters, together. And then, 'Gay sex.' And then there's a phone number."

Man 2 "A mobile?"

Man 1 "Maybe, I dunno. What do you care?"

Man 2 "Well, it tells you how old it is, to a degree."

Man 1 "Either way, it was still like something you'd see in the 70s. Sort of thing people would write when you were growing up."

Man 2 "I guess those things are sort of timeless."

Man 1 "Nationalism and homosexuality?"

Man 2 "Are the NF still going?"

Man 1 "Well, they are in here."

Man 2 "Maybe it's art. Like an installation. We could ring the number."

Man 1 "What, you think Charles Saatchi's on the other end, going, 'Well done, you've spotted the art.'?"

Man 2 "What's the worst that could happen?"

Man 1 "Plenty."

Man 2 "Just say you've got the wrong number."

Man 1 (moving on) "No."

Saturday, 3 April 2010

Guardian All Ears 3rd April

I always used to love walking round Fresh & Wild dodging the 'status baby buggies' & surreptitiously planting boxes of mechanically retrieved chicken shapes on the shelves
(thanks to everyone for their suggestions for faddy overpriced super foods this week too - I love you all x)
See the original article here...
(Article by Michael Holden)
I tend to steer clear of the organic grocer. Not for reasons of taste or judgment, but of finance. Sometimes, though, it's the only place open that has what I need. So I wound up in the holistic and meditative mood space that passes for a queue, watching a woman pass parcels of unfeasible origin and expense to a cashier whose demeanour hovered between complete spiritual enlightenment and imminent rectal prolapse.

Cashier (holding up one of her boxes) "This stuff is amazing."

Woman "I'm kind of having a detox."

Cashier (nodding sagely) "Well, that should do the trick."

Woman "I'm not into fasting, you know?"

Cashier (noticing the woman's hand – which was tattooed with various forms of writing) "That's such a beautiful script."

Woman (thrilled) "You know it?"

Cashier "Uh-huh. I mean, I'm very impressed by all that culture – the whole mindset. I read as much as I can. I hope to go over there and study."

Woman (pointing out more writing on her arm) "Each moment decays as soon as it's born."

Cashier "That's one of the core beliefs, for me."

Woman "I love it – it's just so true."

All the more reason to get a move on, you might think. But this went on for some time, until I was charged £7 for five onions, a small bag of wheat and some pine nuts (never let it be said that I don't know how to have a good time). When I got home and began cooking, the onions turned out to be in a state of decay that paralleled our own, which cheered me up no end. I would have gone back and complained, but the moment was already collapsing.

Saturday, 25 October 2008

Guardian All Ears 25th October

I know, I know, racial stereotypes are soooo easy but sometimes they're begging to be used! Wonder if I could get a Matalan tattoo somewhere - classy! (apologies for any mangling of French language involved in above illo)

(Article by Micheal Holden)

I was standing a queue for a cash machine-the only around that doesn’t charge a fee for its services-when the man behind me was joined by a friend who must have gone for a wander about to kill time.

Man 1 “You won’t believe what I’ve just seen.”

Man 2 “What?”

Man 1 “There’s a bloke up there, in the market, with the Pizza Express logo tattooed on his arm!”

Man 2 “Really?”

Man 1 “That’s what it looked like, I had a pretty good look at it.”

Man 2 “You see these things on the internet, sponsored tattoos.”

Man 1 “Mugs. You wouldn’t see something like that in France, they’ve got too much self respect.”

Man 2 “I was there last week.”

Man 1 “Any corporate tattoos?”

Man 2 “No. Mind you it was cold. They are nuts though, in their own way. I was in a supermarket, at the checkout and this bloke got angry because I hadn’t moved put the little ledge-the one that says ‘next customer’ at the end of my shopping.

Man 1 “How angry?”

Man 2 “He had a mutter and then sort of snatched at the sign and slammed it down. My mate who I stayed with says it’s a big thing over there, a proper insult if you don’t do it. And yet when there’s any real trouble on the cards…bosh, they’re gone.”

Man 1 “Like I said, too much self respect.”

Man 2 “Too much for their own good.”

Man 1 “But you have to respect them for that.”

Man 2 (visibly baffled but playing along) “Yeah, yeah. I do, I do.”