Sketch Diary: I'm back.

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: Three People

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.

Sketch Diary: Zonked up Zooty Boy

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

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: G20 Riot

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: The Umpire

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: Being A Bit Cool

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.