up Motherfuckers! I’m back. Kind of…
what have I been up to since I posted last? Well, I cleared
my name of a crime I didn’t commit. But in doing so
proved myself guilty of a number of considerably more serious
crimes. So then I went to prison where my only crime was to
love too much (often without permission). Eventually I was
released from prison and set up a school for mocking the afflicted.
That was closed down by a gang of spastics who took my dinner
money and made me lick a poo. Then I started my own space
programme and taught myself crime-fighting and freed all the
Eskimos and burnt down my housing estate and ate all the feathers
in my duvet and cried and bled and healed and rebuilt myself
anew in the style of popular African American actor Denzel
Washington. I now look and speak just like him.
that’s pretty much everything I’ve been up to.
Oh, and I spent a week or so trying to find out if I was like
one of those prostitutes resistant to aids. Turns out I’m
not. Still, it was time well spent.
I’m back with one more game. Fuck knows if I’ll
do another, or a movie, or just a crude drawing of a man being
forcefully sodomised by his own son (I’ve been pondering
whether that’s ever happened in human history –
Sadly though, I figure it probably has). Anyway, I’m
back because I’ve got to be. Because once again that
vainglorious prick has come out of hiding to perform his wondrous
feats of sitting still in a Perspex container. Yup, Blain’s
back, with his new act ‘Drowned Alive’.
the fuck they’ve called it ‘drowned alive’
I don’t know. It’s false fucking advertising.
They’ve given him a fucking oxygen tube, cheating cunt.
Anyway, that led to this new bit: The
David Blaine Asphyxiation Game!
get to help kill him again. Which is always fun. Hope you
all those who have written over the last 18 months or so,
sorry not to have replied. I managed to reply to every letter
I got for the first 3 years or so, then one afternoon everything
just kind of stopped. But thanks to those who have written,
and those who have called me a cunt and demanded I make more
stuff. It’s been appreciated. I shall go through the
backlog before too long and do my best to reply. Hopefully
none of you have died in the interim.
That’s it for now. I might be back. I don’t know.
I'm on the run from the law. It wasn't even my fault.
It's like that series The Fugitive. In fact, it's exactly
the same. Only rather than it being my wife that's dead,
it's about 4 dozen dogs within a 2-mile radius of my house.
I swear I didn't do it though. But will anyone believe
one armed man?" they say, and I can understand where
they're coming from, as there is very little evidence
to support my claim and a great many things to suggest
that it was probably me. Like all the corpses. But nonetheless,
I maintain my innocence.
anyway, that's why I've had to go on the run. I'm in an
internet cafe in Rhyl as I write this. I figured no one
would ever look in Rhyl. It's quite nice here. I've been
staying with a prostitute I met at the bus stop. She seems
nice but is making me sleep on the fridge.
long and short of it is that this may be my last movie
for a little while, so I've made it a good one. It's the
pilot I made for a show called Mung - Click
I shall update with tales of my adventures around the
British countryside whenever possible, plus I've shown
my dear old mum how to upload anything I might send her
in the post. So to stay in touch, be sure to sign up to
Wake up in the morning
Wanting some breakfast
What will I... Spread on
song there, sung to the tune of 'Israelites' by Desmond Dekker.
week I feel a bit musical as I've been hanging out with my banjo pickin' cousin,
Ed picks a pretty mean banjo and I was impressed by his many
banjo related stories (like how you get beaten with clubs if you play uninvited
on the Carling sponsored spots on the London Underground).
we recorded a little something together, Sleepy Ed pickin' and me singin' along.
Then I drew this little green fella and made him play right along with us. It's
only wee, but here's our ditty.
this week, Fancy Soup started on MTV (or it may have been last week - I've been
on holiday so I'm not sure).
I saw it last night and it looked good on the telly. Little MTV logo and everything.
So if you want to watch Fancy Soup on TV, it's currently playing as part of the
'Turn on, Tune in & Drop out' show on MTV2 at 10pm.
if you want to see a wee preview of the fractionally tarted up Fancy Soup series,
Click Here to watch Prison Redux
(It's pretty much exactly the same as it was but now with a bit of music and a
splash of colour...)
that note, I've got to thank Trim, who sorted out the music for the series at
a moments notice. He makes good music - employ him ([email protected]).
people have been asking for more Fancy Soup T-shirts for a while. After much procrastination
I've now got round to doing them. Click the pic to view them all...
fired a paintball gun up an elephant's arsehole this week. I had been intending
to inseminate the beast using a doctored paintball containing the seed of a vagrant,
procured the morning prior. My aim had been to create a man-elephant and parade
him around for my own amusement and prosperity.
it turned out that all the elephants at my local zoo were male and found the experience
little more than unpleasant. So there will be no man-beast, no more entry to the
zoo and, worst of all, I'm 27 quid out of pocket (£24.99 for the paintball
gun and 2 quid for the tramp-juice).
other news, I've a new game for you to play. It's the salvaged tail end of a client
piece I made a short while back, deemed at the time to contain material of too
sensitive a nature to go ahead with. As such, I repackaged it, stuck in a bit
of nudity and voila:
Jet Pack Escaper Caper.
and the other nice bit of news is that MTV have picked up my Fancy Soup series.
So that'll be starting sometime in a couple of weeks. I'll post some more details
as I get them.
heard the other day that morbidly obese people absorb stuff into the folds in
their fat. Stuff that they don't notice gets stuck there for ages, like pennies
and buttons, and is slowly absorbed through the skin. I thought that was great
I've been making a game with the kids at work. It's pretty cool actually. There's
a bunch of little games in it and I like the one called Fly Shot. Though I can't
game's called Chris
Ryan's Sniper School, and as you might have guessed, it was
paid work which means I get to go down the docks once it's dark and find me a
wife for the night.
been a busy motherfucker lately. I keep wanting to spend all my time making the
fun crap for the site, but I keep having to do work so I can get paid so I can
spend all my money on collector's plates from the back cover of Radio Times. It's
a fucking addiction, I tell you!
this week: I've got a bit of the old paid work, a really lame animated song, and
something I dug out from the deep recesses of my hard drive that I'd entirely
forgotten existed. So let's start there...
a year ago, the b3ta newsletter
called for flash animators to guest direct an episode of their popular Weebl &
Bob cartoon. I thought it sounded like fun and sent them my version. I must admit
I wasn't hugely surprised when it was rejected as being a bit fucked.
I put it down to half a day's fun and I filed it away under 'a bit fucked'.
click here for a bit of
as promised, an annoying song.
The less said about this the better. I guess it was a kind of hungover doodle
when I should have been doing other work. Ho hum.
finally, Lungfish came to me and asked me to get involved with a piece of government
work they'd picked up. I said OK, as I wanted to buy some more plates.
quite a pretty little movie really, though not quite the kind of stuff I'd usually
make myself. I did suggest a few jokes for the script but the Foreign Office vetoed
them immediately. What is it with my goddamn critics! Grrrrr.
kind of a public safety film for people going abroad to watch the football this
Here to watch. But don't blame me if there's no swearing or blood.
soon with more filth and sadness.
remember when life was simple. When children could play in the streets and neighours
could use one anothers bathrooms without permission. The good old days of the
IRA giving warning phone calls, when terroism had manners. The good old days when
I was young enough to legally go to bed with high school girls.
I spend all my time wishing I was dead.
other news, here are the results of the Run Potato Run Competition. A lot of people
sent in a lot of ideas and thanks very much to all those who did. Click
Here to see the results and who won the free car! I mean T-shirt.
movie this week, too much heroin, can't sleep.
love nuns. Not in the biblical sense or anything.
Well, I suppose it's a kind of biblical sense, they are nuns after all. But what
I mean is that, while I don't have sex with nuns, I do enjoy them as a
I also like making games about nuns. So here it is, the frightening follow up
to Nun Lander, the much hyped and eagerly awaited... Nun
Gunner! (I suppose there wasn't a great deal of hype,
there was a bit in Uruguay).
right, now you get to shoot nuns! And there's a story to justify it so you don't
have to worry even if you are a Catholic. Actually, you probably do have
to worry if you are Catholic, but you'll be so busy worrying about so many other
things, this shouldn't rock the boat too much.
new Nun Gunner stuff available. Nice. Click the pic.
So first thing's first, new Run
Potato Run. It looks like the little fella
may be in trouble now. But we still don't know what's chasing him. Watch the movie
by clicking above, then, if you fancy, click
here to enter the Run Potato Run competition!
even a prize this time. That's right, I've pulled out all the stops and made some
Run Potato Run T-shirts (plus a whole bunch of others).
you might just win the t-shirt of your choice by entering. It's a drawing competition
as demonstrated here by Tony Blair.
Here for details...
Tony Blair aged 50 & 3/4|
Huh. That was a quick month. I
meant to update sooner but I've been trying to make a bomb. It's nothing political.
I just want a bomb to put on my wall at home. A real one. Just in case someone
I think it would make a pretty good deterrent. I'd put a sign
up on the door like people do when they have a guard dog. It would just read "bomb
- I have a bomb" and there might be a picture of a bomb on it.
my bomb was rubbish and didn't work. I think I got off on the wrong foot trying
to make it out of stuff I found in my cupboards. Weetabix as shrapnel? What a
stupid fucking idea. Fucking thing didn't even catch light.
made a new Fancy Soup too. It's called Swan.
belated New Year. A man vomited on me on the tube, so it's going well already.
made a new game for you to play called Cèlèbritè
Poubelle Magnifique! It's a quiz in which you can guess what rubbish
belongs to what celebrity. Click it to play.
I recieved this note. I'm very worried about it.
will forgive my intrusion and impertinence of writing at this time. Unforgivable
though this action to you is, a time of urgency requires my sharpest intentions.
I am named Umbongo Capri. I am speaking with you from the Republic of Giardia.
My father was Chief Tumbo Capri of whom reputation is entitled.
request is one that enables me both shame and wonderment. As a request, it is
humble of physical size, but in manhood, requires great prosperity. It is for
this reason that my writing is addressed to you. You may think me unsensitive
to have contact with you when our familiarity is unqualified. Of course when I
heard of your business dealings I knew that I was eligible to trust you.
government contains less reputable officials than in yours I am sure and certain
corrupt offences have incurred. More than 100 thousand Terry's Chocolate oranges
have been confiscated by our state and held against us. These confectionary delights
were intended for the Giardian people whose ownership is qualified and entitlement
settled. However, this entitlement has obviously become untrue with state official
can help us free our lost rights and battle this oppressive intrusion by one action.
If you might make sent to me the simple amount of $2000 dollars, a freedom has
been arranged that would benefit us both. A ten percent return can be made for
you generosity and upwards of ten thousand Terry's Chocolate Oranges will have
you again for kindness bestowed in your time spent with my letter and I await
your responding with great joy!
you think I should send him the money?
Twas the day before Christmas,
and all through my house, not a creature was moving, not even my wife.
hasn't moved in hours. Days maybe. I've lost track of time in the darkness. I
can't bring myself to open the curtains and let it all in.
had been going well at first. I'd opened a bottle of wine and we were settling
down to watch highlights of this year's wars. My wife had asked me if I wanted
to have a nut based stuffing for the turkey. I just lost it. I remember reaching
for coalscuttle, then it all goes red. Then black.
of us is breathing but I can't tell who in the darkness. Short, stabbing gasps
at the stale air. Her family will be arriving soon. I don't know what I'm going
to do. I've not even defrosted the turkey.
there's a knock at the door. I reach down and fumble about the floor for my wife.
She hasn't moved. "Someone's at the door, honey" I say gingerly. Silence.
probably be Sue and the Kids. They said they might get here a bit early".
My wife does not respond.
make my way down the hallway slowly. It is Sue and the Kids. I watch them through
the spy hole for a moment. Keith's there too. I didn't think he was coming this
year. He's not treated her well these last 6 months. Sue really could do better.
open the door eventually and smile as best I can. "Hello Brian" they
all say warmly. I stand there, still smiling, blocking their way. I have to say
something, they can tell something's wrong. Dreadfully wrong.
when I open my mouth to speak, no words follow, just a low, anguished moan. My
hands are shaking. I'm suddenly very tired.
Sue says gently "has it happened again?"
can only nod.
P.S. All the Xmas Mews are ready so Click Here
is here again. It seems
like only yesterday I was drinking
alone and hurting myself with fairy light cable. What a magical time of year.
And let's not forget baby Jesus who, as legend has it, took one in the chest for
Biggie Smalls. Nice one baby Jesus.
what news is there this festive season? Well, Little Mew is back to bring Xmas
cheer to one and all. He's been given a new home by the nice folk at Nickelodeon.
They've requested he sing five Christmas Jingles on their sprogs channel, Nick
But on the off chance that's not a channel you watch as much as you'd like to,
here's the first of five Little Mew seasonal specials. Click
Here to watch.
Mew soon, and maybe some other stuff too...
Run Potato Run this
week. Cheap and cheerful animated fun featuring a potato with legs and this weeks
guest star: Jesus Christ. Whatever's chasing our potato is getting very close.
We may just find out soon...
I thought it'd be fun to send the Myra sketch to BBC Talent and they only went
and shortlisted it. Nice one. The prize if you win is to develop a TV show for
BBC Three. So if you'd like to see a Mung TV show, click
here for details.
imagine what I could do with a budget... Or any fucking money for that matter.
I could finally buy some shoes!
Name My Tortoise results are in Click
Here to find out the little fella's new name...
week, I shat myself in public. Nothing major, nothing that any passers by would
have even been aware of, but, nonetheless, enough to make impossible any hopes
I might have had of doing any Christmas shopping. Luckily, I found a Starbucks
and headed inside to use their single capacity, unisex toilet. It was a pokey
little dive but afforded me the privacy I needed to clean my soiled arsehole.
finishing I reached confidently over for the toilet paper. Nothing. Not even a
cardboard tube (and I've made use of the tube before). The only course of action
open to me as I could see it was to use some item of my clothing to do the job.
Though socks seemed the obvious choice, they lost out in the end to pants. They
weren't my favourite boxer shorts by any means and they had already taken the
brunt of the disaster, so the decision all but made itself.
confident that they would actually flush successfully, I instead shoved my shit
covered boxers into the "ladies hygiene product disposal unit" and fucked
off with a smile on my face. As I walked out, the young lady behind the counter
smiled back at me, perhaps in anticipation of my ordering coffee. "I've just
wiped my arse on my pants and shoved them in your tampon bin" I said to her
with a warm smile "but I don't think I'll be buying any of your coffee today,
as it tastes like the blood of exploited South American bean farmers. Thank you."
Then I went to Safeway and spanked the defrosted chickens until I was asked to
leave. The End.
this week: Lord of My Ring II.
More homoerotic tension with Frodo and Sam (plus a trailer for Return of the King...)
made a new film this week about the pleasure of getting injections. It's called
Injections Are Fun!
click it to watch.
I've finally got round to making a newsletter. People have been asking me to do
so for a while. Basically, when I make a new movie, I'll drop you a line to let
you know. Click Here
to sign up.
a been a hell of a lot of suggestions for the tortoise
fella's name. Thanks for all of those. I'm not decided yet though, so keep 'em
coming, there's still a fortnight left.
there are a couple of new bits in the Press Section, including
one in Creative Review. Ain't that lovely. Thanks to everyone who sent the cuttings.
to see that people are still shooting little Mr Blaine in his box and still sending
me notes about it. Cheers.
in the same vein as the Blaine bit, here's a game I did this week with the kids
at work. It's about that Derren Brown fella who tried to shoot himself the other
night on 4. It's pretty fun actually and you get to kill Uri Gellar.
Here to play The Derren Brown Game
Other new bits and
pieces this week: I've had a spring clean and dumped a lot of crap in the new
Stuff section. And now there's a competition
up - Name
My Tortoise! Click it for details.
if that ain't enough for you, I found a really old film that I'd forgotten I made.
It's nothing to write home about so I've stuck it in the stuff section, but fuck
it, you might like it. Click to watch Guy
Fawkes The Movie.
and thanks to everyone who wrote in about the Kerrang
article, the radio bits and whatever else. Always appreciated.
What a week. I had no idea
quite how many people wanted to shoot David Blaine. Particularly magicians. There's
loads of magicians who have written to me to thank me for the chance to shoot
Blaine. Best of all was when I got a note from Paul Daniels (click
to read). That's pretty funny. And I assure you, it is genuine. I know
I lie about a lot of stuff on this site but I wouldn't lie about little Paul.
to everyone who has written to me. I've had some great notes, but none so good
as the hate mail. There's only been 4 bits of hate mail (Blaine fans...) and that's
out of hundreds of happy emails. I might just publish them soon because they make
to everyone who wrote today and pointed out this bit in the Star:
the Sunday People have been on the phone asking about it. Plus the kids at RISE
on channel 4 were playing it this morning apparently too. Does this make Mr Blaine
popular or unpopular? I can't decide.
thanks again for the notes and check back soon, there's more Blaine fun in the
Well, David Blaine is in a
box this week and I for one am glad. No better place for him to be. Though 20
foot under the ground would probably be more pleasing.
the poor little nutrient-starved anus freaked out this week when some kids shined
laser pens in his eyes. He thought they were snipers out to get him. It gave me
an idea. So here it is, the David Blaine Assassination
sure to play right to the end because there's an extra special movie featuring
David and all his magic circle buddies.
This week, I became a millionaire.
It all started about a fortnight ago while I was asleep. I had this dream in which
I was being chased by Denzel Washington's portrayal of Malcolm X. Apparently Malcolm
was angry with me because it was still during his hustling days and he mistakenly
believed that I'd been beating on one of his tricks.
I hadn't, of course, and make it a rule never to inflict bodily damage on a prostitute
unless it's agreed to prior to the act itself and accounted for when totting up
the service costs. However, it was one of those dreams where no matter how fast
you run, you just can't seem to run fast enough to get away from Malcolm X.
eventually he caught up with me and began to beat me in a way I've never been
beaten before. It was during this remarkable assault that I had my idea. I was
going to make dolls for little girls.
soon as I woke up and realised I was not dead, I called my uncle at his toy factory
and explained my idea. He said I was a "God-damned-to-fuck-genius!"
and that he was glad that he hadn't drowned my mother when he could have. I thanked
him and we agreed to start production that night.
was a simple concept really. I'd seen dolls that pissed themselves, I'd seen dolls
that shat themselves, but I'd never seen a doll that vomited. And why not? Babies
puke all the time. But a puking baby wasn't enough. I wanted my girl to be 14!
And life size!
8 hours of our product going live, we'd shifted 11 million units. Mostly to the
Japanese. And that's how I became a millionaire. By making light of a serious
affliction that affects many young men and women throughout the world (mainly
the western world).
as I say, I'm a millionaire now. I imagine I'll spend it all on fags and scratch
the new Fancy Soup. Enjoy.
I've been in prison a lot lately.
I was arrested for shooting Tony Martin after he broke into my kitchen for the
11th time this month. He said he just wanted to have a glass of milk and that
he'd leave quietly when he was done, but I wouldn't have it and I shot him.
all been rather interesting. The police have been very understanding, a number
of them saying that they'd have shot him too. One of them even brought me an Eccles
cake and some pornography on my second evening inside. His name was Colin.
I got to speak to a judge and he said that I had done the right thing in shooting
him and that we couldn't have Tony Martin going into people's houses willy-nilly
and drinking their milk. He said he was glad I'd shot him and that he wished there
were more people like me. He said he might go home and shoot someone that same
I'm back home now and have been thinking a lot about it. I was probably wrong
to shoot Tony Martin like I did. Technically, he didn't deserve it. He was only
thirsty after all.
the other hand, it was my milk.
not sure at all now.
It's too damn hot in this country.
I can't remember anything like it. I pissed steam this morning and the whistling
sound woke my cat.
I've been making a film for a while with some friends from work and I think it's
turned out pretty damn nice. It's called Dog and
I'd tell you what it was about but it's too damn hot and you'll just have to watch
it and see. I hope you enjoy. I'm pretty pleased with it.
there's a new guest movie today care of Justin van der Spuy from Cape Town, who
takes with him the prize for most uniquely named man ever to write to me. It's
called Good Idea/Crap Idea. Cheers Justin.
Well, for the last three weeks
I've been in a coma. It wasn't bad at all actually. Like a prolonged dream of
sorts. For the entire duration, I was convinced that I was a seven-year-old Japanese
girl chasing a butterfly through a host of strange and exotic landscapes.
many weeks I chased the little yellow butterfly, never quite able to catch it.
And every time I managed to get my hands around it, inches from it's delicate
wings, I would suddenly become aware of familiar, though distant, voices speaking
all around me.
of conversation would become clear to me, voices I should have recognised but
could not place. It seemed from the vague and inconsistent dialogue that someone
was very ill, but it did not concern me and I continued to chase the dancing insect.
day though, it simply stopped. I approached cautiously, not wanting to alarm the
creature. It had perched atop a large, ripe orange, itself the pinnacle of a pyramid
of like fruit on display outside the window of a city grocery. Inside I could
see the old, oriental owner of the shop starring at me through the glass. He grinned
and nodded slowly towards the insect.
I reached out, my hands encircling the delicate wings that had danced elusively
just beyond my grasp for so long now, the voices became intolerably loud. Booming
in my head, I suddenly knew them. My mother, my father, my backwards uncle Larry,
they were all there. I grabbed the creature and thrust it into my mouth. It tasted
like chicken. Everything went white.
I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed. No longer was I a seven-year-old Japanese
girl, but rather a full-grown man, complete with unkempt beard and rapidly stiffening
erection. My family were all there and greeted me warmly. All except backwards
uncle Larry who had somewhere discovered a nurses outfit, which he now wore back
to front as he sat weeping in one corner of the small white room.
anyway, that's why I've not updated lately. I was in a coma and thought I was
a young Japanese girl in pursuit of a small yellow butterfly which later turned
out to represent consciousness and my own journey back to good health. It's my
own fault really. Should have known better than to stay in on a Friday night and
neck all my rohypnol.
this the other day:
think it's fucking great. Cheers Andy.
I got some stuff back from work that I forgot I'd ever made. They sent me my version
of Spider Man the other day. I made it just after
the flic came out last year.
The fucking circus has come
to town. What a fucking shit heap. They've set up on the green with their caravans
and big fuck off tent and you can just feel the sickness creeping in. It's like
a smell but you can't smell it. You just feel it.It
makes your bones ache.
There'll be no bikes left in town by Monday.
I found this the other day. It's the first film I ever made, over a hundred years
ago when Flash wasn't half as advanced as it is today. It's called A
Day to Remember.
a look, hope you enjoy.
This month I have been saving
all of my bodily fluids in separate containers. At any one time, the body can
produce liquid from five separate orifices (this does not include pores or self
going to enter my various jars into the Turner Arts Prize. If they're not suitably
impressed I'll just cut off one of my arms and feed it to a horse and say that
Prince Charles told me to do it. I'll submit it on video tape. I'm bound to win.
the prize money I'm going to have a celebrity arm grafted onto my body. Probably
Charles Dance or someone like that. Maybe Pike from Dads Army?
my super arm I'll be able to get into fancy clubs and bars where I will no doubt
meet other celebrities (Lisa Tarbuck, etc...) and seduce them ruthlessly. Once
Lisa is carrying my seed, I shall execute her live on Richard and Judy.
more details of my plan, send a naked photo of your father to:
of Brian's Plan
PO BOX 1939
This week I have created a
time machine. At first I assumed it would have no useful application and I was
in the process of putting it in the shed when suddenly I thought I could go back
in time and seduce my mother like what Marti McFly done.
hour later I'm in 1961 plying my mother with gin. The more time I spent with her
though, the less attractive I found her. She had this habit of rolling her glass
eye about with her index finger. I don't know whether it was my father who eventually
broke her of that habit but she had certainly never done it during my lifetime.
I told her she sickened me and that I was her son and that I didn't want to seduce
her anyway. She was quite drunk by now and I don't think she got it. In the end
I just paid a sailor to take her home with him and I went off with a prostitute
I'm back in the present and I've brought Sally with me. We've had her myriad of
venereal diseases cured and I'm teaching her to feel again. If it doesn't work
out I'll just murder her and bury her in my garden. She's been officially missing
since 1961 anyway so I'm sure no one's looking for her anymore.
a new Fancy Soup.
Here it Comes! ShitFist! Grrr! Tits!
I've made something cute and
cudley this week. It's a happy little singing guy and his name is Little
Mew. Click to check him out.
Well, I've had a nice wee bit
of attention this week. First up, the good folk at Redline Magazine have once
again seen fit to tell the spread the word about my stuff, this time Nun
Next, the FHM newsletter features none other our own little
terrified potato from run potato run.
thanks to Gary Field and David Gore for pointing that one out.
other news, here is a new Fancy Soup. It's the first
in a long while and the first in a whole new set coming soon. Enjoy.