To the tall guy in the Kaiser Chiefs t-shirt at King’s Cross, a sense of humour is a huge turn-on for me
– Blonde girl in blue dress
To the hunky Meatloaf look-a-like at Ilford station, I would do anything for love. Like, anything! Even that. Murder, right?
– Single girl
To the fit girl who really noticed me on the Victoria Line, God my chair was squeaky, wasn’t it?
– Shy guy in brown trousers
To the girl on the tube, watching youtube, in a boob tube, I’ve written a song about you
– Liam Gallagher
1. Baby Spice
2. Spotty Spice
3. Geri Halliwell
4. Lance Armstrong
1. Best day ever!
2. Yay banter
3. Argh! There’re some 118s over there. They look mint!
4. Jelly Babies! Love it! shame there wasn’t a fifth costume for me, though
5. Really wanted to be Po
To the mysterious guy who reads his horoscopes everyday at wapping station, can I see my moon rising in your bedroom?
– A Leo with a crush
To the stunning 3 blondes cracking up at my jokes all the way to ruislip, what am I like!?
– Guy in green Crocs
To the girl who saw me get stuck in the barrier at Baker st., my balls did that :p
– Big Larry
to the fit girl i gave up my seat for at kentish town, it was like that when i sat down
– Nervous Traveller
1. Who’s touching my arse at a time like this?
2. That’s not really helping, mate
3. Well, i didn’t expect this today, but i’ll take it
4. Oooh, me next!
5. Drop him!
We were going live to the nation in 30 seconds and Bruno Brookes couldn’t find the head to the costume. The studio was a scene of total chaos and Tony [Blackburn] was in a right panic about a custard pie stunt we’d rehearsed but just the one time. 20 seconds: Bruno is still headless and sweating like a sausage in the sun. Tony is crying. 15: “I’ll go on without it!” Bruno shouts at the costume department who by this time are sticking ping-pong balls to a pink pillowcase as a back up. 10… 9… 8: “There!” I yell. “It’s there, next to the gung tank!” 7: Tony is sick. 6: Bruno grabs the head and runs up the stairs of the set, which was in fact modeled on Dave Lee Travis’ summerhouse. 5… 4… 3: I pull on a particularly loud looking jumper and toss Tony a hanky. 2: Tony is sick again. 1: We’re on! Behind the scenes, House Party was nearly always this exciting, and yet we always found the Mr Blobby head; Tony always got hit by the custard pie at the right time. And then it was over, just like that. I mean, I knew I’d be alright, I’d been working on an idea called Touch My Box, and you know how well that turned out…
1. Urgh. He’s got his arm around Sam
2. So glad i’m not sam right now
3. Poor Sam, he’ll leave a stain on that jacket
4. This is fun, right? It’s fine. I’m having fun
5. He doesn’t fancy Sam more than me, does he?
To the girl who sat on my hand at Baker Street, that was totes an accident. And the wiggling fingers. And the hard-on
– Shy guy with Kindle
To the girl who took a selfie on the Warren Street escalator, your looks could break that camera… in a good way
– Tall guy in navy blue Toms
To the man who tutted and looked around the carriage when a delay was announced a Acton Central, I was annoyed too. Drink?
– Girl who waved at you
To the cute girl I gave up my seat for, it was like that when I sat down
1. Beeennnnd… and SNAP!
2. Come to momma
3. God save us all
4. Buttery biscuit base
To the young lady who offered me a sip of her water when I fainted on the bus, I swear I’ve never done that before. Drink(s)?
– Fainting man
To the girl who prized me out of the tube doors at Canning Town, wouldn’t that make a great ‘how did you meet?’ story?
– The risk-taker
To the girl I threw up on on the Northern Line, I swear I’ve never done that before. Drink(s)?
– Vomiting man
To the guy who threw up on me on the Central Line, I still would. Please.
– Single Girl
1. Oh yes! Lovely stuff!
2. Yay, Cliff!
3. Hmmm… yeah…What the fuck is he doing now?
3.Waiiit…Wait for it… If it doesn’t go up the whole show is a bust.Waiiit…
1.This isn’t racist, is it?
2. Oh shit, they’ve picked us up on the big screen.Yeah, the hat was too much.
3.Why are you so proud, Jack? Could be working on The X Factor with mum.
To the sexy sausage with the sexy sasauge, McMuffins are, like, MY food too! Drink?
– Girl with Paul’s Boutique bag
To the the blonde girl I twerked on the bus, too much? I’m not good with fads. Game of Pogs sometime to make up for it?
– Y’know, the guy who twerked
To the girl at Old Street who heard me listening to Keane, damn iPod, think it’s got a virus or something.
– Electro-loving creative in Supreme cap
To the girl who smiled when I said ‘You mind the gap’ back to the tannoy, I’ve plenty more like that!
– Russell Howard
Whoomph! A chair flies past my head and smacks on the floor. Two skanks pull at one another’s hair. Arms flail and another chair whizzes across the room towards me. I duck just in time again and feel cool like Neo. “That be my man!” one shrieks at the other. “Oh yeah? Well why was ee wiv me last night den?” “Bitch!” “Slag!” I’ve heard it all before of course. Using my brilliant skills I manage to calm them both down for a second, turn the chairs back up the right way and sit them down next to each other. I ask Chantelle – now minus another tooth – if there’s anything she’d like to say to Leanne but it kicks off again. Nails, hair, shriek, shriek, shriek. I leave them to it. I’m going to be late for work.
1. Haribo Tangtastics!!!
2. JESUS CHRIST!
3. Urgh! Is it on me?
4. Woah, that is lethal!
5. What’s happened? Has someone trumped down the front?
*Answer at the bottom of the page
Another very naughty week for me, boys and girls. Talk about Britain’s Hardest Shop, fuck me, Sainsbury’s is no bed of blow jobs. You go in that place and it scrambles your nut. The veg and fruit inside the door – what fucking genius thought of that!? Don’t get me wrong, apples and pears, fucking lovely, but they’re soft bastards, ain’t they, they can’t be at the bottom of your basket. Then there’s all the kids in there – they’re off their fucking lids, shouting and pointing, sketching me right out, all the way to the check that was mugging me right off. “Please place item in the baggage area”. I fucking have. Look! It’s there you fucking dopy sod! No mate, not for me. I had to get out of there.
*Answer at bottom of page
1. Well, this was a mistake.
2. Chloe has such fat arms. Bless.
3. Millie’s so brave wearing a patterned maxi at her size.
4. Do I still love this man?
5. Blending in nicely, John. Happy face.
Today was the reamist day ever! Not cos my Frosties had a extra toy in them, I mean cos we flowed out to Marbs to film TOWIE! In the airport we all had chips in Garfunkles, and it was really ream because Arge turned up in shorts and someone said he looked like a pig in shorts. Then we went to get on the plane – just an EasyJet plane innit. It was nice, though. I asked Sam if she liked the plane and she said yes. The best bit is when you take off and you can see all the houses below. Sam swore she saw her house from the plane, but she didn’t know that Gatwick Airport ain’t in Essex, it’s in Wales. Gutted I couldn’t go in the cop pit to see the driver. Still a ream day, though.
To the girl I accidently headbutted on the tube at Warren Street – drink?
– Balding man with cut head
To the man of my dreams on the 07:48 from Didcot Parkway, I wash because of you!
– Girl with the pink hip flask
To the guy in the suit on the train in the morning. You read your paper while I filed my nails, but I’m sure we both felt a spark, please.
– Single girl
To the sexpot on the 76 bus with large breasts and a perfect face, mum and I are having a BBQ at the weekend.
– Guy with theTesco bag
Email us about the people you stare at on the commute – firstname.lastname@example.org
People say, “Oh, you look like a rapey Ali G,” or, “Your beard looks like a merkin,” or, “Your curtains are haunted by the ghost of the last person to die in the old people’s home you stole them from,” or, “Actual pig!” Yeah, man, my look provokes a strong reaction, just like my songs. Truth is, I’ve never looked better. The Ali G thing – yeah, I get where people are coming from on that. It’s the hat, right? Mine says W.A.R. on it though, because destruction is brilliant (and it’s my initials – Bucket Head bought the same one, even though I told him not to, so mum sorted it so we could tell them apart). As for the ‘merkin’, as the haters put it, I feel no shame in telling you that I’ve never managed to grow a full beard – it’s always so… patchy, like my balls. Luckily, the goatee has never gone out of style. It’s the rings (from a British boutique called Claire’s) that really set this outfit off though, and my tip to anyone rocking rocks is always keep your hands in front of you like I’m doing here, but be subtle about showing off your jewels – you don’t want to look like a prick. (The curtains came with the flat).
Rule one of being an IBS (International Brand Sensation): always take a good picture! No larking about as if your Robin Williams or Goose; when those cameras get snapping, you need to pop a handsome pose. The tumbs up says: “Hey buddy! Everything is okay! Let’s have a good time!” It’s positive, and trust me, people like that. Opra soaped that shit up like a sponge with a gut. But look what else I’m doing here – I’m flexing the shit out of that Baby Gap tee! I always like to say: “The thumb says ‘Yes!’, the gun says ‘Fitness’!” Wait, scratch that, I’ll go again. The gun SCREAMS ‘Fitness’. And if you can get your forearm bulging with veins, definitely do that! It’s a healthy look, like the side of a horse. I can’t even begin to tell you how important a natural smile is too. It’s a tricky thing, so practise in the mirror! And if you’ve got a complex about your teeth (maybe they’re yellow or crooked) simply don’t show ‘em. I never do – I keep my mouth closed and let the thumb say “YES!”. And behind my shade, you know what my eyes are saying? “I’m an IBS, man! This is fucking wild! C’Mon!!!!”
Tell you what, I’ve worn some mad shit in my time! Remember that time I played the piano dressed as Donald Duck for a laugh? Yeah y’do. And when I went to a party as Marie Antoinette? You dooo! And when I dressed like an egg at the Royal Wedding last month? You DO! I’m mad, me – from my hair plugs down to my size 4s. I have calmed down a lot since the gak days, though. A certain someone who shall remain nameless made me bin the Donald Duck get up recently, actually – he said that it had started to smell like desperation, whatever that means, David. I still wear this little look though. The gold rings are neither here nor there, really (I’ve got tons of gold) and I’ve been through more fucia silk shirts than I have flowers (remember that advert I did for Royal Mail with flowers? Yeah?), but those specs! Fuck me, they’re sick! Firstly, they’ve got reading lights on, which is a bonus for a book fiend like me (The Bitch Is Back is a real page-turner), they’re bi-focal, shaped like hearts and look, they’ve got little window wipers on! There’s only one pair in the world though. Wrestle for em?
Like all fans of real music, I am massively into Kings of Leon. I have been ever since their debut album, ‘Sex And Fire’ – it’s wicked. I love driving to it (and The Killers) and, naturally, the Kings’ fashion has rubbed off on me too. Lee Cooper do pretty good jeans, which are just like the ones the band wear, and my advice would be to go for the boot cut style, which are a bit like cool ﬂ ares. Sunglasses are a must when you’re dressing like a rock star also and I read in Shortlist magazine (the modern man’s bible) that oversized shades are in. Tucking them in the top of your shirt is really trendy… NOT! so slot them into a vintage cowboy belt instead (pick one up at Uniqlo for 12 quid). But who am I kidding? It’s all about the shirt where the Kings of Leon (and my) look is concerned. I peacock the shit out of an open-knecked tailored cowboy shirt! This one was a present from a friend who works in banking (;-p) and has a paisley feel, but why not improvise with different patterns? Just remember to tuck it in to show off that belt and those sunnies. Now rock out like Bobby Chambers! Anyway, let’s get on with it!
One word to describe this look of mine: TIMELESS. A red thong will never go out of fashion, like violence and Stephen Fry. You’re probably wondering about the cheeky grin in this photo. Well, that can be explained by the fact that I’d just left a cheeky present in the boot of Ronnie Wood’s Ford Escort, for a joke, like. I’m not saying what it was, but let’s just say that no amount of magic tree air-fresheners could make that set of wheels the same again once my gift was delivered. The car had to be scrapped shortly after this photo was taken. Anyway! Fashion! Yeah, to get this look it’s easy and cheap, and it suits anyone, from short fucks to talk blokes over 5ft 3”, like me! If you’ve got the cash, pick up the thong from Classy Chicks on the Kilburn High Road, or from C&A, or wherever. Otherwise, do as I do and sellotape a pair of boxers up at the sides. Then, for a double smash of irony, wear fuck all else but a woolly scarf and wave around the flag of a nation that you’re only slightly more connected to than any of the others on the planet. As you can see, I’ve gone for Scotland. See ya!
As you can see, I like everything big! I like my suit jackets big; my Star of David pendants big; my Mary J. Blige hats big; my Milky Bar Buttons big! It suits me because I’m a BIG personality. But, due to some legal fees I’ve had to pay out over the past few years (I kidnapped a rent boy), my budget is not so big these days. Still, I make do. T.K. Max really is a goldmine, and I don’t care who knows it! I got this jacket there, and it’s YSL!!! It should have been £800 but it was only £40! I love it, although I couldn’t find a pair of matching trousers, just a load of cool Quiksilver T-shirts. Anyway, if you’re broke like me, darling, simply accessorise! The gun pendant? That’s foil wrapped around a Sugar Puffs box! The Star of David? That’s Weetabix! I’ve then scrawled ‘B Rude’ on the YSL number, a) because it’s a bit naughty and outrageous, like me, and b) because it covers a stain. The ‘A’ on my balls means ‘access’ (that’s right, I’m on the market, can you believe it!?), the whistle is just a bit of fun and every morning I get the kids from the local ‘div school’ to scribble on my face. Taa Daahhh!!!
Hi funk bastards! So you wanna know how to look like a Space Cowboy, d’ya? Well, let’s start at the very top shall we – at the most important item of any style icon’s threadz: THE HAT! I’ve got a whole cupboard full of hats at home from beanies to that mad cow’s head I used to wear. These days I’m bang into my trilbies though. My girl loves ‘em cos she says they make me look like what’s-his-face Doherty from The Shambles. Zip up tops are a big part of a great funk look too, and don’t be put off by checking out the racks on the high streets – there’s some fly shit in Topman these days, H&M’s alright too (frighteningly cheap, ain’t it) but avoid River Island! I have since I ran into Dan from Top Loader and we had the same diamante Rolling Stones tees on. Basically, you don’t wanna look too much like everyone else. In the trouser depart, keep ‘em loose fellas (for some funk as fuck dancing) and shoe-wise, I always used to wear Adidas, but you can get really similar ones in Barratts for half the price (see above). They’ve only got two stripes instead of three but mum says they all come from the same factory. Safe!
Disclaimer: The representations of the people herein are completely fictitious
* Catchphrase answer: That’s riiiiight! It’s A Toad In The Hole.
* Spot The Difference answer: Yep, Jools is missing a button