Railing against the curse of the man bun

What defines the word 'evil' in 2015?

While the twin ghouls of ISIS and UKIP stalk the very soul of our land the biggest threat on the streets themselves comes atop the heads of mega doofuses. Yes that's right. Beware the dreaded 'man bun', an indicator of extreme torment in its wearer and one of the most inexplicable of all current fashion fads going around like a small, hairy plague.

The man bun is far worse in the man who has no need for it. Take this chap here. His boff is so short, that he don't facking need to tie his locks up in elastic. It's not gonna blind him in its current form if he goes white water rafting. But he, like many other gents has decided, that hair needs to be in place. Keep your eyes peeled for the rise of the bun as the days get lighter and summer starts becoming more than a twinkle in the eye. And make sure you have scissors on you at all times...

Boy George wants to touch me

Back in February we went to the Music Producers Guild Awards (zzzz) to film some video interviews with some old pop dudes.

We didn't really anticipate anyone being there but it turns out the whole thing was ram-jammed with stars getting drunk and hob knobbing. Royal Blood, Richard Russell from XL Recordings, Goldfrapp, Dave Stewart and Boy George were all on the press carpet in various stages of shitfacedness. Check out the Boy George interview below. He had slight wine breath and was being a bit flirty innit...

5 lessons we learned in February

February's vibe was proper with time spent veering from running away from hangovers to just generally running. We've got a marathon in Manchester in April and an integral part of the training regime is to not have a hangover on the day itself. By some sort of backwards calculating, this should make running 26.2 miles easy, especially after training with a hangover for three months. As Craig David would say, 'drink like a fish, eat like a pig, train like a fairy'.

What else have we learnt?

FKA Twigs live is shite

We went to London's Roundhouse and spent the best part of the gig waiting for her to play a tune. She spent most of it dancing around and pouting. We were left disappointed.

Abbey Road Studios is not shite

We went with work to delve around in a studio at Abbey Road Studios with a mastering engineer. This isn't a euphemism for something 'torture gardens'. We spoke to this dude who it turns out is the fella who mastered New Order's Blue Monday. Fact.

Made in Chelsea actors are just like you and me. Almost

If you watch Channel 4's Made in Chelsea you're either posh and like watching fellow poshoes act posh or you hate posh people and want to find out how to destroy them. We were wandering through M&S enroute to watch Twigs and saw Jamie from Made in Chelsea rummaging through the sandwiches. Just like a normal person who's had four pints on the way home and is already done for. The only thing that made him look like a total cunt were his shoes, woven from the souls of poor people. What a cunt.

Market research can be lucrative

February's Wednesdays were spent discussing the finder points of desserts and coffee machines. Couldn't give a toss about either really but for £200 I will. Kerching.

Walkers have upped the game of crisps

Monster munch, French Fries, Wotsits and Doritoes all in the same bag. That's some game changing shit right there fam.

Take it like a man

The back of Jamie from Made in Chelsea, aka Posh Cunt

FKA Twigs not playing any tunes

Hello

Possibly the best record ever made? 

'Work'

Choosing between bombs

Monday emergency breakfast injection

Pon de plate

Our road. At dusk. 

Future crisps vibes

It's our party (and we'll cry if we want to)

This Friday it's our jump off. Kiss the Fist is going down at Tipsy, a newish basement den on Kingsland Road. There'll be thrills, there'll be spills and some top slabs of music laid down for anyone brave enough to come drink with us. If you ain't been before, then here's a selection of the sort of tackle you can expect to be exposed to... Dig in and see you on the floor...

A murder of crows

2015 is already gushing away like sick down a baby's front. Gurgles, chunks, bits of carrot in it ... you get the shizzle. But despite the ongoing march of time, we're on it like a car bonnet, eating and drinking our way around the place like the classic, thirsty viking. So far we've acquired 80 back issues of Viz, drank shots with Chicago house don Derrick Carter, been to the seaside, (attempted to) grow a beard and been for a deeply posh curry. You'd better believe we're taking this year by the throat and flushing it's head down the toilet...

Posh chip butty

Seinfeld

Winter domestic flex - weed socks, jogging bottoms, clarks slippers. Believe

Snackage innit

Training room lolz

February reading

A disgusting t-shirt

Pooch outside the offie

Bathtime!

We didn't win. Hence while we're still here... 

Taking 80 issues of Viz off another brother's hands

New work breakfast vibes - welcome the breakfast pot!

A very blurry, blood orange martini

Bring the gourmet vibe to Broadway Market. Fuck you and your organic leeks

More reading

Tom Kerridge's favourite meal - fucking nutjob fam

Beige and beige and beige

Is that morning sickness or she just gagging on her beauty?

2015 tuneage has been big on the road and here are some of the things to get our knickers in something of a twist...

Congratulations to us and Super Kebab

This is the 501st post on this blog. 501 posts! Shit. I had no idea that I'd still be placing rot on here when I tentatively first started doing this. To celebrate, let's celebrate the kebab joint at the end of our road, Super Kebab! Super Kebab won the prize for Best Takeaway at the British Kebab Awards. Well done chaps.Your success has inspired us to even greater feats of late night culinary indulgence. Without you we could, at times, have starved to death. Thanks for helping keep us alive...