Sketch Diary: Is One Year Old

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: Shit-Art: shit art.

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: Idiot head

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

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

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.