The Sketch Diary of a Nobody

Sketch Diary: Sham Cam

2011-09-08T14:59:00.000-07:00

On my break at work I found myself in the thick of the action at a Paralympics Expo in Trafalgar square. Boris is there, grinning and doing his trademark "er-er-er". That slightly famous black guy in a wheelchair is there.

Then a big silver car turns up and bang, it's David Cameron, right there in front of me. The only way to describe him in the flesh is like a man with a latex David Cameron mask on, or a very realistic inflatable David Cameron.

Then I bought a smoked salmon sandwich from EAT which had an unusually large amount of filling in it. It was an all-time classic in terms of lunch breaks.

Sketch Diary: Under The Cover of Darkness

2011-09-08T14:42:00.000-07:00

Old Street, late at night.

I'm pretty sure this homeless man was Hitchhiking under the Big Top, shall we say.

You know - 'washing the goose's neck' - yoghurt slinging; wrestling with cyclops - under his duvet.

The focus of his attention seemed to be a line of attractive youngsters queuing up in their skimpy party clobber.

They seemed unaware there was (fairly frenzied) self-abuse at close-quarters and as usual it was just me that did a double-take, searing the awful image onto my retinas for all time.

Sketch Diary: Wet 'n' Wild

2011-09-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

I'm still new to cycling, and wasn't prepared when it fucking pissed down with rain one day.

My first "wet ride" was so wet people were going "awww" and pointing when I rode past. We're talking sopping wet pants here.

Sketch Diary: Slap Head

2011-06-12T15:26:00.000-07:00

I looked up at this woman driving past just as she slapped herself in the head for forgetting something and screeched to a halt.

Great stuff.

Sketch Diary: Hate the Aged

2011-06-08T15:05:00.000-07:00

My first post in ages. Sorry to anyone who has been sat there waiting, pressing F5 in a darkened room for the last six months.

Here I am trying to operate a cash machine while fending off a weak attack by a 66-year old man.

He'd decided he was entitled to push into cash machine queues and went bonkers when I decided he coudn't.

He started it, Miss.

It's funny how many people tell me I should have punched him, even though that would almost certainly have killed him.

Sketch Diary: Falling Down (Part II)

2011-01-10T15:18:00.000-08:00

Here I render my catastrophic attempt to jump over a large bush outside a bar. I went over like a mannequin being chucked over a fence. Bouncing on the pavement off my pelvis ensured maximum discomfort and humiliation.

There was booze involved, obviously, but tragically I think I did this because I caught half an hour of Jackass The Movie on Freeview last week.

Sketch Diary: Hopelessly devoted to... fags

2010-10-19T14:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I have a look around and try to find the hidden camera. But it's never there.

This time I'd just been harassed by a lady who was going bonkers for a cigarette while sucking on a smoking cessation device. A big white stick delivering nicotine directly into her stupid face.

Sketch Diary: Falling Down

2010-10-19T13:12:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I posted a picture on here, because I am now a professional illustrator. Look how far I've come. I don't need this shit.

But when a lady who works in my office fell off a step and splatted her face into the pavement, I thought I'd better draw a picture.

Don't worry, I checked she was OK before laughing at her. And texting people about it.

I think these days, I enjoy watching the confused, embarrassed expression when they get up even more than the actual fall.

Sketch Diary: Ganster Wraps

2010-08-02T15:52:00.000-07:00

Here's some Turkish ganster types sitting outside their 'members only cafe' on my road.

Unfortunately they are quite scary so I drew this having looked across the road at them for about a second.

I like to imagine occasionally some idiotic Islington twerp goes in, asks for a gluten-free frappuccino and never comes out.

Sketch Diary: Floating Voter

2010-07-11T06:13:00.000-07:00

Did you know mobility scooters did this?

In a crowded House of Lord's commitee room this woman eerily levitated five foot into the air to make a point.

Sketch Diary: Conan the centre-forward

2010-07-11T06:02:00.000-07:00

My heart sank when I saw this meatmonger warming up for the opposition in our not-so-friendly 5 a-side league.
I spent most of the game running away from him or ineffectually kicking his legs. I think he was made of wood.

Quote: "I didn't elbow him. I nutted him! HUH-HUH."

Sketch Diary: An unpleasant scene

2010-06-15T12:40:00.000-07:00

Not everything I observe is funny lol

Don't you hate the way people use LOL as punctiation now lol

Even when things aren't funny lol x x

Sketch Diary: I'm back.

2010-06-14T10:40:00.000-07:00

I've been busy doing boring drawings for coins. Sorry for the lack of updates (mum).

Just as I decided 'tonight I will sketch somebody for the blog', a man got on the train and started rapping at me. Badly. All that really lame stuff about blowing your money on prohibitively expensive champagne in a nightclub to impress ladies so you can grind up against them for a bit (like a sick dog scratching his testicles on a tree, probably).

Sketch Diary: Bus-Spotter Spotting

2010-03-24T15:53:00.000-07:00

Spotted: A bus spotter.

Just writing down the five-digit number above the driver's window. Of every bus that went past. In the rain.

Sketch Diary: Three People

2010-02-06T12:12:00.001-08:00

This is just three people that caught my eye today. I won't pass comment or judge them.

But seriously, a fucking army officer's cap? Bell-end.

Dream Diary: Let's go home, Mr Obama

2010-01-29T04:07:00.001-08:00

I'm resorting to drawing dreams again, sorry. The physical realm just hasn't been very interesting lately.
You have to admit, this one's fairly prophetic though. Just me and Barack, the lone survivors returning from a DREADFUL WAR.

In a MINIBUS. IN DORSET

Sketch Diary: BllaAAARGHHALP

2010-01-23T10:14:00.001-08:00

Lunchtime in a pub in Caerphilly. A violent belch erupts from a woman on the next table, stopping me mid-sentence and blasting the stench of her spicy insides over me and my mother. No reaction from her or her friend.

Sketch Diary: Space Invaders

2010-01-18T12:32:00.000-08:00

Tube travel reached a new level of discomfort this evening when a generously-fed woman decided to straddle me and give her fanny a well earnt rest on my knee.

Sketch Diary: MonuMental

2010-01-17T13:38:00.000-08:00

Why is London's Monument - the largest free-standing stone column in the world - not more famous and well-loved? Because it's built in memory of a fire, and not some great war-bastard, I reckon.

The view from the top, where an insanely paranoid health and safety viewing cage has been created, is, as the Scots say, fandabidozi. But you do have to share two square metres of cage with about 50 amateur photographers and wheezing tourists.
I've added a man falling to his death from the top to help give a sense of scale.

Sketch Diary: 21st Century Band Practice

2010-01-13T14:54:00.001-08:00

I've joined a band. This is how we roll.

We crazy.

Sketch Diary: Taxi Driver

2010-01-11T15:37:00.000-08:00

I saw this merry little scene near my house the other day.

I couldn't tell if his face meant 'for god's sake, help me' or 'you've seen too much. I'll have to kill you too.'

I walked straight past because it was freezing and frankly I've got enough problems of my own.

Sketch Diary: Physio gets weirder

2010-01-11T15:19:00.001-08:00

I'm not sure if my physiotherapist hates me but she made me do this on a treadmill the other day.

Sketch Diary: Creepy Krakow

2009-11-20T15:10:00.000-08:00

You know you're having an unusual holiday when someone switches the light on in the youth hostel at 5am and a man you've heard trying to molest your friend turns out to be a mad German pensioner in his pants.

Click on the image if you're man enough.

Sketch Diary: Orthopaedo

2009-10-26T09:29:00.000-07:00

An attractive blonde physiotherapist calls me into her office.
Hmm...she's nice.
She orders me to take my clothes off.
Ooh...interesting...
She has really cold hands.
Oh.
She assesses how enfeebled my shoulder joint has become and prescribes some light rotator cuff exercises.

Sketch Diary: Facebook

2009-10-26T08:07:00.000-07:00

Hey, why's that chap holding his book right up to his face in Archway's finest Irish booze-nest, The Mother Red Cap?

Is he: a) reading the most engrossing book ever; b) so long-sighted he has to feel the words with his eyes to read them; or c) cunningly hiding the fact he is totally pissed up and asleep?

Sketch Diary: Disclocation, dislocation, dislocation

2009-10-12T10:12:00.000-07:00

Like Guido Fawkes' confession signature, this drawing was forced out in pain, and with my wrong hand. The things I do for you anonymous web-sods.

I have dislocated my shoulder, for the third time. Unlike the previous times, I was given gas, morphine, and a wheelchair, all fairly quickly. But, despite my protests, I was also fully conscious when they squelched my humerus back into my body.

Sketch Diary: Speedo Muncher

2009-10-12T09:52:00.000-07:00

July: I had a lovely holiday in France. Unfortunately my enduring memory is this mulleted speedo-Nazi enforcing his 'speedos-only' rules on the poor speedo-clad freaks of Grenoble (i.e Speedo-land). He actually chucked me out of the swimming pool for wearing swimming shorts, the fucker. All because my genitals weren't packed into a little Lycra sac like his.

Click on the image for the full-fat effect.

Sketch Diary: Tiny Tom and The Angry Scot

2009-08-13T05:52:00.000-07:00

Here is an artist's impression of how small I felt after being told off for not helping a very elderly woman struggling with a huge suitcase.

"Ye wouldne even lift your feet up, for an auld lady?" her husband bellowed at me.
I had been daydreaming, wondering if she was going to topple over. It was actually someone else's legs that were in the way, but I felt awful.

"He wouldne even lift his feet up," he boomed, to the whole carriage. "For an auld lady."

"Sorry" I squeaked, but it was too high-pitched and quiet for anyone to hear. It took me until lunchtime to return to normal size.

Sketch Diary: Real Arse Festival

2009-08-08T06:31:00.000-07:00

Here's a sketch of an unintentionally hilarious auction on stage at the Great British Beer Festival in Earl's Court.

Two walking stereotypes, pregnant with ale, flogged assorted junk to around 100 drunk students and fat nerds. One provided the banter - a mixture of misogynistic jokes and anti-Budweiser preaching - the other just held up the items, and scowled at the crowd.

Memorable items included:

A bag of 100 beer mats, assorted brands
An untested Grolsch bar light without a plug
A used beer towel, 'needs a rinse'

One lunatic was even mad enough to bid for 'a night out in Horsham with me and Phil for some beer, some more beer, and then possibly even more beer.'
Oh yeah and I spewed on a train on the way home. Damn them and their stinking 7 per cent filth.

Sketch Diary: Thou shalt stop shaving, and be mad

2009-07-03T05:18:00.000-07:00

Hello, like, freakazoid alert!
This man has been wandering up and down Hammersmith Road for a couple of days, solemnly displaying a peculiar spiritual message. I advised him that he really should rethink his communication strategy. His message could reach a far wider audience using social networking websites, such as Facebook, or Twitter, rather than scrawling on a cardboard tray.

I didn't really! I crossed the road to get away from him.

SKetch Diary: Gym Junkies

2009-07-01T15:19:00.000-07:00

I have taken advantage of a government scheme designed for fat diabetic crack whores and joined a gym. Luckily it appears to be a lame person's gym, full of other people walking round pretending to stretch and scratch and do anything except lug the huge heavy iron blocks up and down. There's even people just standing there having their buttocks vibrated for them by a big machine.

Sketch Diary: Is One Year Old

2009-06-28T06:13:00.000-07:00

I drew this while vibrating slightly on a long hot train journey so it's not bad. And those are meant to be moles on my face, not splodges of poo or skin cancers.

It's been about a year since I started the sketch diary, and about six months since I chucked it all online. It's been an overwhelming success - the pages of the sketch diary have been viewed 1,805 times. That's more than the number of metres in a mile!

I've received at least several emails from fans and don't at all feel like I'm clogging up the Internet with pointless pictures of my own face. I'm guessing the anniversary of the sketch diary is likely to be celebrated by Time Magazine, but they haven't confirmed anything yet.

Sketch Diary: Zonked up Zooty Boy

2009-06-16T15:07:00.000-07:00

I stumbled across this joker at 7am, all pale and yellow and apparently dead, in the middle of the pavement in Archway.

Luckily his brain wasn't oozing sticky crimson gunk after a bike crash. His fed-up looking mate was explaining to passers by: 'He's just had too much to drink,' while texting something - possibly:

Daz tk 3 zootie beans n is MONGED up BIG TIME on cressida rd. Wat a dick. come n look LOL

Sketch Diary: Primrose Hill Ponces

2009-06-07T08:56:00.000-07:00

I sometimes envy the trendy indie kids of London, always looking resplendent in their tight bohemian costumes from Topman.
Then you realise the trendies still have to wear the tiny jeans and weird shiny clogs on a lovely hot day, and they look like stupid preening sissies because they can't kick a football or bend their legs properly.

Sketch Diary: The Doors of Perception

2009-05-23T07:07:00.000-07:00

I saw this unfair but amusing reflection of myself as I came home from work, a bit boozy, on Friday evening. Click on the image to make it larger. Please, come on, click on it.

PLEASE!

Actual Diary: Mega-stardom, at last

2009-05-12T06:23:00.000-07:00

I've been given the opportunity to illustrate a short story and contribute to alittlepoison.com. It's a pretty little site for a bunch of people in London who, like me, ooze creative slime and would like a place to smear it.

Here's my first illustration for them: The River of Life

Sketch Diary: Smoking Bin

2009-05-10T15:43:00.000-07:00

Here's evidence of Hammersmith's nicotine-addled office workers, hundreds of whom simultaneously dump their burning death sticks into a bin by the tube station as they rush home. It reminded me a bit of the smoking thing that mental Pope dude waves about.

Sketch Diary: Greenway is.. Grap

2009-05-04T15:24:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the considerably lower standard of drawing here.

This is my 'refreshingly honest' marketing campaign for the Greenway Walkway that runs from Hackney to Newham.

Newham's Mayor, Sir Bobby Spittle, says:

"Come to Greenway, a dead-straight tarmac path cutting through Newham's overgrown industrial wasteland and scrap yards. Try and escape the heavy stink of sewage as it follows you down the path's six, long miles! When you get to the end, you'll find yourself in a field, miles from anywhere, with some horses tied up, and wonder why it is advertised as a nice walk on the Walk London website. See you there!"

Sketch Diary: Poopy Time

2009-05-01T12:09:00.000-07:00

I abseiled down a 100ft castle turret as part of a birthday suprise that was so fun, I won't be able to make my usual sneering, cynical, miserable little comments about how crap everything is.

I doubt I actually looked this scared as I lowered myself through the medieval trapdoor of doom, but you get the idea. Poopy time.

Sketch Diary: Park Tavern

2009-05-01T11:56:00.000-07:00

Here is an incoherent old drunk from one of the grimmest pubs in my area, the Park Tavern.

Instead of telling him to shut up, I've drawn an unflattering picture of him and posted it on an obscure corner of the Internet. That'll teach him. Although I can't imagine him doing anything with a computer other than just shouting: "Karmo' ya cunt" at it.

He was the landlord apparently.

Sketch Diary: Gonad Bay

2009-04-06T04:26:00.000-07:00

Studland, Dorset. Passing through the famous nudists' section of the beach, you may see the odd flesh-coloured figure lying in the bushes, enjoying the breeze on their balls.
Trying to find a shortcut to the car, I got lost in the sand dunes. There roamed a different species of naturist, popping up occasionally on small vantage points above the heather. They wear T-shirts, sun-hats, backpacks. But no pants. They are slightly creepier.

Go on, click on the image, you might find a willy.

Sketch Diary: G20 Riot

2009-04-02T12:01:00.000-07:00

A pathetic two sketches in the whole of March and then... Woo hoo! Civil unrest and police brutality come along on April 1st.

I went along to the G20 Meltdown protest after work and got close enough to see a guy get his head smashed against a police van, which deep down was kind of why I went I think.

With hundreds of other curious office workers and some posh stoners, I explored the outer perimeter of the police 'kettle' and ran away every time the terrifying riot police came anywhere near me.

I'd love to do a big sketch to capture the whole exhilarating scene around the Bank of England but I can't be arsed.

[Update] Actually I can.

Sketch Diary: Like A Sex Machine

2009-03-16T05:18:00.000-07:00

It's mid-afternoon on the Victoria line and this odd chap gets up, shows me a thick wad of a dozen or so condoms in his wallet, and flashes a dirty smile. I don't know which facial expression to select, and I just look into his eyes, blankly. Then he's off, he's gone.

Pretty weird stuff, even by Finsbury Park standards.

Sketch Diary: Sorry

2009-03-09T16:53:00.000-07:00

Nothing sketch worthy at all this week. I'm testing out some new fancy pencils with a drawing of a man I see every morning, who organises the bus chaos in Hammersmith station. He is noteworthy only for having a very evil face. Like an Aphex Twin remix of Jim Rosenthal.

He seems like quite a jovial, nice guy, I should add.

Sketch Diary: The Umpire

2009-02-27T06:47:00.000-08:00

BEHOLD! A fat girl in a puffa jacket, on an umpire's chair.

No, not more conceptual art. Some local yoofs have discovered that the table tennis/squash area of Finsbury Leisure centre makes an excellent hangout to eat chicken and shout at each other.

Still, it's better than a hut in the woods, where I used to hang out when I was her age. (Boo Hoo)

Sketch Diary: Shit-Art: shit art.

2009-02-24T06:57:00.000-08:00

I don't want to sound like the kind of person who says 'all modern art is rubbish,' but within a fortnight I've seen two video installations that feature people rambling incoherently and actually eating shit.

What I find most interesting is all the people who shuffle in, pretend for a few seconds to feel something other than total bemusement, then walk out again, reading the impenetrable guff in the leaflet, looking thoughtful.

Click on the image to see the filth close up, which I quite enjoyed drawing.

Sketch Diary: Silly Billy

2009-02-14T12:14:00.000-08:00

On Saturday morning I woke and thought it would be nice to run the 0.77 miles to the shops to get a paper. It was an idiotic decision. I soon remembered I hate jogging, and I'm never doing it again. Then, later, I broke my brand new £2.49 Dunlop Tournament Pro table tennis paddle. I still feel physically sick with grief and fury.

Sketch Diary: The March of The Miserable

2009-02-09T13:19:00.000-08:00

Clibbetty cloppetty, clibbetty cloppetty.

This is a sketch of my daily trudge out of the clammy, flourescent funk of the Underground, toward the icy orange drizzle of the evening. We all want to get home, but can only coordinate this painfully slow shuffle towards the buses.

I often contemplate whether the destruction of the entire world would be such a bad thing at this point in my commute home. But only for a few minutes! I'm fine by the time I get home, after I've had a little cry.

Sketch Diary: Huge Jeep, Headbutt, Headache

2009-02-05T13:43:00.000-08:00

My ten-minute jolly to Tesco Metro Hammersmith at lunchtime has sadly become the most fruitful time of the week for sketch diary material. On Wednesday, I slipped and smashed my head into a parked Range Rover.

Ok, Snow and Ice, we had fun, but it's been three days. You can fuck off now.

Sketch Diary: The Great Blizzard of '09

2009-02-02T13:35:00.000-08:00

In direct contrast to the last post, this looks exciting, but wasn't really . The tricky bit was keeping the sledge moving above that crucial speed called 'not moving at all'.

Sketch Diary: Sport and Leisure

2009-01-30T04:01:00.000-08:00

Not even a sexy angle and some keerrraaaazzy perspective can make table tennis look exciting, but it is.

Sketch Diary: Idiot head

2009-01-28T07:39:00.000-08:00

I'm still chuckling to myself about this guy. Well, not now. I'm talking to myself on a blog about chuckling to myself I mean. I had to document what was quite possibly the worst haircut I will ever see. Presumably he had just come from a poncey photo-shoot, or maybe even walked straight off the end of a catwalk, without questioning what the fuckers had done to him.

And all of a sudden I forgive London again. What twat-tastic treats you give us.

Sketch Diary: The Corpse Museum

2009-01-18T12:26:00.000-08:00

On Saturday I just totally lost my mind and skinned some bloke. I stood up his slimy cadaver and positioned it so he was holding up his own skin and looking at it. Then I masturbated.

Not really. But a German professor called Gunther von Hagens has done pretty much exactly that (the wanking bit is unconfirmed). In fact he's been skinning people, messing around with dead babies and pickling cocks since 1975. He's not even been put in a mental home or anything. I paid £14 to go and have a look at some of his work/victims at the O2 Arena in Greenwich.

Sketch Diary: Drums of Death

2009-01-14T15:54:00.000-08:00

Shoreditch, London. Chubby Scottish DJ 'Drums of Death' (Colin Bailey) shouting in a pseudo-american accent over dance music, with his 'trademark' 'wacky' facepaint.

When your in my hut/ HUH!/ you know whats up!/
You know the urge I'm feelin'/ I've got the things you're needin'/YAAAOOWWW!!!!

Technoplebs in the crowd absolutely loving it.

Me, despairing, resenting all humans. All of you.

Sketch Diary: Orthodox Badgers

2009-01-11T14:56:00.000-08:00

In the great human fauna of London, these guys are like badgers. Funny-looking, and always a bit exciting to spot. On Cazenove Road in Stoke Newington, I was lucky to see many of its large Torah Jewish community hanging around after a sesh in the Synagogue. This guy was just staring into space, maybe daydreaming about wearing a baseball cap backwards and running amok.
There are lots of Muslims living there too, and I tried to think of something poignant to say about the current situation in the Middle East. I couldn't, but soon got to my friend's flat in Clapton to watch Man U batter Chelsea 3-0.

Sketch Diary: The Dawn of 2009

2009-01-08T15:35:00.000-08:00

MERRY STUFF AND HAPPY NEW THINGYS! WOOHOO! LOL.

I stumbled out into the dazzling morning sunshine of 2009 mute drunk (not blind) and utterly dependent on my friends. Somehow they seem to like, know where we are and stuff...and how to get home...(Belch).
I probably would have found a skip to die quietly in without them.

This was the intimidating view I took in as I realised I'd been on a labyrinthine council estate in Bethnal Green since the early hours of the morning.

Look at my excellent use of perspective and the painstaking detail. Shame the flats actually look quite nice, too, 'cos they were fucking horrible.

Sketch Diary: Fuck Da Po-lice

2008-12-29T16:12:00.000-08:00

"When they kick out your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun?"
Oh, hi!
Yeah no, sorry. I didn't hear anything. I was watching TV and then I did hear the door go about seven but I didn't answer it because I just, ignored it. Sorry.
Would you like a cup of tea?

Sketch Diary: BINGE BRITAIN DISGRACE CRISIS

2008-12-18T08:17:00.000-08:00

Here I am doing that thing we all love in this country, where you drink weak poison all night until you start to malfunction, then you buy disgusting food on the way home. Last night, we were celebrating the birth of the Lord Jesus Christ, so I got particularly spazzed up, and got given some rubber ducks.

I've found an effect on CorelDraw that simulates what the world looks like when you are cold and drunk. See how it makes everything a bit wobbly and unsteady? And it also blurs the picture round the face, which means you can't tell that it looks absolutely nothing like me.

If you don't like the effect, and want to see it unblurred, you can just sod off back to Facebook, you cheesegrater.

Sketch Diary: The Blue Spider (Dream)

2008-12-15T06:23:00.000-08:00

I've been off work all week and have barely left the house, except to go to the pub and get drunk, which doesn't make for great sketches - so I have drawn the mysterious and magical Blue Spider that visited me in sleepy-land last night.

Yes, I know the first rule of How To Bore Someone to Death is: 'tell them all about your kerrraaazy dream.'

But instead of trying to explain impossible nonsense (e.g."I was in my room, but it was a bit like my school, except it wasn't because it was in space...") I've done this little explanatory sketch. Don't forget to click on the image to enlarge it, if you give a shit.

Sketch Diary: Tesco Booze Buddies

2008-12-10T07:10:00.000-08:00

It's proof of what an uneventful few days I've had, that I considered doing a sketch of a man who had some kind of muscle-twitching disorder - because he looked a bit like he was doing 'the robot'. That would have made me, officially, a bad person.

But luckily yesterday I came across these old mingers, having the time of their lives causing trouble in Tesco, where most of the staff seemed to know their names. They stumbled around the shop, cackling at everything and everyone (including me), perved on a check-out girl for a bit and got thrown out. I looked on enviously from the queue of miserable shoppers, clutching my slab of Pilgrim's Choice.

Hopefully I'll do something this week so I can stop drawing freaks.

Sketch Diary: Merry Xmas, From the Plastic Hag

2008-12-05T07:56:00.000-08:00

I've uploaded all my old sketches, so I'm up do date now. This picture is of a horrible scene I saw today on my lunch break amongst the Christmas shoppers in Hammersmith.
A lumpy old woman with plastic bags instead of clothes punched, spat and screamed at a woman, who I think was trying to give her a pound. It gave me goosebumps. Scared, spooky goosebumps, not good goosebumps.

Sketch Diary: That Wall is Well Wall

2008-12-04T13:33:00.000-08:00

One of the few sketches that actually look better after I scanned it. The wall actually looks like a wall. Unfortunately, me and friends look barely human, because I'd redrawn the faces so many times the paper would have broken if I'd continued trying. I copied this from a brilliant arty photo taken in a tube station in Brussels. Now I know the formula for looking cool in pictures (don't smile and stand in a stupid position relative to everyone else), I'll be doing it more often.

Sketch Diary: Sporting Legend

2008-12-04T12:56:00.000-08:00

I am well and truly littering the Internet now, with a yawn-inducing sketch of me playing badminton.

I was going to apologise for the confused order of these 'diary' entries but then I realised this is my blog, and nobody reads it anyway.

Sketch Diary: Jeered and Cheered

2008-12-04T12:20:00.000-08:00

This is a really poor sketch, but my book is tiny and I had a lot to fit in.

Being booed and shouted at by hundreds of people is a great buzz - I really recommend it. This band were so vomit-inducing that 'You're shit!' just rose out of me from within, without me really having any conscious control over it - like a powerful belch. It just happened to be in the middle of a dead quiet bit, and the band stopped playing; the crowd turned on me like I was a paedo on the Jeremy Kyle show.

The annoying brown thing has re-appeared on the bottom right of my pictures. I think there is a bit of smudged biscuit in the scanner. It looks a bit like a copyright symbol though, which may come in handy.

Sketch Diary: The Day The World Changed

2008-12-02T15:09:00.000-08:00

November 4th, 2008. The world changed for many people that day. Not me. I copied this from a photo off the internet while eating an egg after work on November 5th.
I didn't trace it though.Tracing things is really rubbish. Copying is ok.

Sketch Diary: Lunatic of the Week

2008-12-02T14:55:00.000-08:00

Another fascinating local loon. If he was a good tap-dancer, I'd just think he was a twat, but he's manic and rubbish and makes little Michael Jackson wimpers as he pumps away.

Not a particularly good drawing -his head is so big it barely fits between his shoulders -but the tube carriage is pleasing.

Sketch Diary: I Hate Classical Concerts

2008-12-02T14:45:00.000-08:00

Going to see a classical music concert can be punishing enough, let alone when you have to stand up for the whole show, looking over the shoulder of a fat smelly nerd who whispers what will happen next to show how many times he has been, while you try to catch a glimpse of your friend in the choir who you can't see properly anyway because you've got your old glasses on.

Perfect fodder for an interesting cartoon though.

Sketch Diary: Being A Bit Cool

2008-12-02T14:24:00.000-08:00

In this picture I am putting up flyers in Farringdon for my friend's underground techno rave party. Sounds pretty cool huh?
I'm wearing Rayban sunglasses at night like a proper twat, a) to look a bit shifty and cool and b) because I thought it might help me avoid being arrested by the filth, who drove by, uninterested, twice.

This is the first sketch that bears a decent resemblance to me, in terms of head shape, hairline, and psychospiritual aura. I think I've become a better drawer in a few months if you compare this to the crud I was drawing when I started.

Sketch Diary: Five Go Mad In Kemble

2008-12-02T14:18:00.000-08:00

I had a spiffing weekend at a friend's relative's cottage in Kemble, Gloucestershire. Here I am bouncing off a trampoline into a giant paddling pool, which I did over, and over again.

Sketch Diary: This took ages

2008-12-02T13:50:00.000-08:00

This took a disproportionate amount of time to draw for the result. Drawing stairs from an unusual angle is a fookin' nightmare.

I'm still doing the little comments in capitals on my sketches that make it look like I'm trying to do one of those 'real life' graphic novels about having cancer or something, which isn't what I'm doing.
I think I was trying to be funny. Or maybe I thought for a moment I was actually writing a graphic novel, and this incident on the stairs was really significant and poignant, which it would be, if only I did have cancer and could put 'because of the medication' in the caption.

Sketch Diary: Beardy Weirdo

2008-12-02T13:33:00.000-08:00

I really like this picture. This is exactly the kind of thing I wanted to record in my sketch diary. I'm fascinated by these loons and don't want to forget what makes each one interesting. I know they all smell of concentrated piss, but what was he listening to? A fresh Jamaican trance-hall mix maybe, but probably just taped religous babbling.

I pressed harder this time, and its a bit more ambitous, what with the bus interior and all. Yeah, I know, thanks. Cheers. Nice one. See you later.

Sketch Diary: Skibby-dibby-dibby dong do-dong dong

2008-12-02T12:38:00.000-08:00

Not a particularly good picture, but a nice reminder that I turn into a disgusting ferral ape-boy when I'm on my own for more than a week.

I really just need to get some balls and press harder with the pencil when I'm drawing. Mr Shackleton told me that ten years ago in school, and did I listen? No, I didn't, because he looked like Scatman John.

Due to the crapness of my scanner/ing a sneek preview of the next Sketch Diary entry appears in the background of this drawing...
...[update] which is the one above this post now anyway.

Sketch Diary: Neither a mental nor a moonface

2008-12-02T12:23:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of my girlfriend, holding onto a buoy, in Hampstead Heath bathing ponds. I thought it was a fantastic picture when I drew it, but I realise now I've scanned it in she does look a bit mental and a bit of a moon-face.

She's neither a mental nor a moon-face, by the way; she's lovely, and is quite possibly my only reader.

Weird science teacher (2007)

2008-12-02T12:05:00.000-08:00

What a treat for you bloggers! This is one of my most famous pieces. I know of at least one person who owns and cherishes a print of this striking sketch. Well, he photocopied it.

Prints (£4.99), t-shirts (£15.99), and originals (£100,000+) of all artwork featured on this page are available to purchase. What? Why not?

Sketch Diary: The Doctor

2008-12-02T11:55:00.000-08:00

This doctor played with my face for a bit before telling me I had a rare genetic skin condition that he thought was really cool.

I realise the speech bubbles make it look like I'm trying to do one of those 'real life' graphic novels about having cancer or something, so I might stop doing them.

Sketch Diary: Something happens

2008-12-02T11:46:00.000-08:00

Ah! Now this will make me look slightly interesting. Here is a representation of me being all nervous and shit, and failing to ask government health minister, Ben Bradshaw, a simple question, which is my job.
Look him up! He really does look a little bit like that.

Sketch Diary: Sketch Diary begins with a bang

2008-12-02T11:42:00.000-08:00

My first picture. Excited at my new project and materials, I drew myself drawing while sat on my own in my flat doing fuck all. I added the sarcastic comment later.

Sketch Diary: Welcome to my blog

2008-12-02T10:10:00.000-08:00

Hello. My sketch diary is falling apart so I'm putting my sketches online. I'm not just going to talk/ type about myself to myself though, like most blogs. Hello?
Maybe I am. We'll see.
I've kept my weirder pictures seperate from the sketch diary. The sketch diary's main purpose is to record things I've done this year that I thought were visually interesting. Very little or none of it is actually interesting, of course.

Hope you're enjoying it so far, unfortunate reader, whoever you are.

Oh, that's me. Boo hoo.