World Exclusive Premiere, A Guide to World Peace and The Long Awaited Return...

I knew it was only a matter of time but after a few short years and only a couple of thousand emails and forum posts, I, and by extension everyone that is living vicariously through this shit hot blog (so that would be you lovely readers), got invited to something. This monumentous occasion happened to be the first ever Vans video, a company that I am totally bent for anyway so it was a pretty foregone conclusion that I would be turning up to lurk, bro-down and see if there was any free stuff knocking about in equal measure... 

As I was retardedly excited at the prospect of being able to do something to allow me to avoid the crippling horror of another fucking minute at work, I decided to make the most of the day so arranged to meet Cockleg and Poosink at Mile End skatepark. The plan was to maximise the time available and all make the most of our surroundings. To Cockleg and Poosink, this meant jump around on skateboards doing tricks, where as I took the slightly more sensible alternative and stood around drinking street beers in between stealing goes on their boards when they weren't looking. This was a much better decision on my part as it meant that more I drank, the less I had to carry and I wouldnt have to worry about leaving my skateboard somewhere when I got appallingly rat-arsed later in the evening. This freed up a lot of time to stand around clutching my carrier bag full of Red Stripe taking blurry pictures of Cockleg skating the moody bowl in front of Vicki Pollard and the obligatory angry looking dog in a skatepark. Youre welcome.

Poosink took advantage of not being at nursery school or the childminders or whatever it is he does all day to play a nail biting edge-of-the-seat game of Head Shoulders Knees & Toes (Knees & Toes.) Then he had some warm milk and went for a lie down before he got overexcited...

Fellow flame haired plaid fan, Jerome from Shiner made the trip up from Bristol or Newport or somewhere like that to watch the film and have his picture taken in front of a great big sign only to turn up on here which surely justifies the 6 hour round trip...  

As if that wasn't awesome enough we bowed down to some subliminal messaging and went for a Chinese Buffet at the imaginatively named "Chinese Buffet" in Soho. Cockleg decided to pretend that the Prawns were trying to crawl into my ear while the Sidewalk Forums very own shouty letter answerer, Joe BEAR Habgood, swears uncharacteristically quietly in the background, shortly before paying for the most expensive glass of coke known to man. 

We retired to a bar on the Corner where Ben Powell, editor of Sidewalk Skateboarding took time out of his fully booked evening job as Fran Healy's body double, to educate me on the various different meanings of red shoe laces. According to his theory, I'm either a devastatingly hard cunt or a colour coordinated mincer, I couldn't decide so I'll leave it to the comments for you to argue amongst yourselves...

Surprising everyone, rotund Barbeque enthusiast, Head Boss of Vans and all round thoroughly nice chap, Steve Van Doren turned up against all expectations and gave a totally motivating and entertaining introduction to the film. Unfortunately he didn't fire up the grill and get round to cooking a selection of delicious treats for the fans... Keen blog followers will remember my pretty truimphant turn on the Vans Waffle stall at the UK Champs this year which on balance, proves that I do more than Steve Van Doren... Well done Steve... Nice one. 

Skate Premiers are the exact opposite to normal films, you go to a cinema with a load of other dudes, drink beer, and shout at the screen while throwing popcorn, skittles and if Habgood is there, pretty much anything he can get his hands on. The only thing stopping him carrying in the moody sweet and sour king prawns from the China Buffet was a lack of pocket space. I took time out of shouting at the screen and calling everyone in range a mosher or a homo to take a blurry pissed photo of the screen to really give you a feeling of what you missed...

Poosink was amazed at the thriving London hipster Fixie which is flourishing due to the almost limitless supply of jazzy clothed gaylords in London.

One half of Jedward turned up and was gutted Powley wouldn't give him a ticket so sat outside crying and wishing he had a fixie...

After the excitement of heading into this nations wonderful capitol, I had to return back to normal life. Fortunately for you, my normal life involves taking the piss out of things and posting about them on the internet to make myself feel better. Occasionally I worry about running out of things to take the piss out of which would surely result in me having to think about interesting and pleasant things to write about on here. That was until I discovered Mrs Dickfingers' kids marking. Mrs Dickfingers is a teacher (I'm not going to say where) and from time to time she gets so overwhelmed with marking that she passes it over to me to do. Payment for this is allowing me to take photos of the particularly special ones so that I can chuckle at them later:

"I allway think about one thing. why can't all the people live in the whole world with out names and no arquements and wars just live all toghether looking after each other !?" as sentiment I think we can all get behind...

One final thing before I draw this thrilling update to a close. Nearly a year after her departure my Prodigal Homing Satellite Dove V2, Dolores, has returned to case out her nest, presumably in preparation for getting fertilised and plopping out a couple more ugly ratty chicks. 

I'll keep you updated with news as soon as she settles down and squeezes anything out. You'll be the first to know, I promise. 

Next time: what I get up to in Brussels where I will be going for a cultural exploration...

War Of The Roses, Kung Fu & Porno...

Yet another skateboarding related update and by "skateboarding related" I mean, taking photos of all of the shit that happens at skateboarding events except the actual act of skateboarding itself, which I think you'll find is actually way better anyway.

Last weekend saw the War Of The Roses, the annual Yorkshire vs Lancashire shindig that has been running for the last 5 years. It started out as an idea Silent Will had to get a load of skaters from Yorkshire & Lancashire together in a park in each county and having a skate jam for money but unfortunately the idea caught on so other folk from the rest of the country started to make the trip too. Unfortunately for me, I do not live in either Yorkshire or Lancashire. I live at the other end of the country, the southern bit, where shandies flow freely and men aren't frowned at for wearing coats when it snows, so getting to Yorkshire and Lancashire is a right fucking ballache... 

After deliberating and waiting in vain for someone else to offer to drive me up there so I could have a quiet 3 hour catnap in the passenger seat, I picked up Cockleg, who since his last blog appearance has ventured out into the big bad world of university. While he is there wasting my hard earned tax money, he enjoys getting into fights and getting stabbed with house keys and is doing his level best to burn through his student load as quickly as he can by spending as much money as humanly possible on Stripclub Specials, Jeremy Clarkson outfits and experimental treatments to stop his legs looking like pornstar cocks in the hope that I'll stop calling him Cockleg. Poor Cockleg. 

Nantwich's premier Nicholas Cage impersonator, Grosa also made the effort, as did Brighton's preeminent hairy freestyler, Mr Darren Nolan, who gave me a Heel Toe Magic hat in a transparent attempt to bribe me into driving him up there... Fortunately, keen eyed readers will notice I fucking love hats so it worked. Bribery is awesome. Plus he kind of looks how you would think the Ultimate Warrior would look if he was only 15 and didn't bosch a load of steroids and hoover up a load of coke, so I didn't want to wind him up incase he went mental and tried to suplex me or something... In case any of you don't believe me I have photographic proof just to strengthen my claim...

Uncanny. I decided to get all the skateboarding in the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop so had a game of skate in the carpark with Ronny and Cundall. There was footage of it but Rich aka Voodoo of t'forum decided that it was far too shit gnarly so deleted it off the face of the internets. Which is probably for the best... Rest assured I was throwing down some preeeetty tidy maneuvers

Ron looked excited and Cundall just looked confused. 

This dude wandered down from Newcastle with some kneepads, writstguards and a home made tshirt to stand next to Powley and throw the horns. Powley really does love Mosher Drops, but then again, who doesn't?

This is Porno Paul. Here he is, inexplicably reading some kind of Mother & Baby Magazine. God only knows how that could ever end up in a skatepark but it definitely was and Porno was loving it. I can't work out what was more disturbing: the weird naked baby centrefold lying back on a bed of lego or how funny Porno found it... 

It was only a matter of time until it went a step too far... 

After we had finished defacing Parenting Magazines with some borderline content and improvised glory holes, Porno and I decided to play our game. It doesn't have a name although I am angling for "The PornoDickfingers Stroking Game" and the rules are very very simple. When someone walks past you, whoevers turn it is, has to stroke them (strength of contact is variable although anything that veers towards heavy petting might draw attention). Once you have successfully stroked your target, it is your opponents turn and they have to stroke the next person, regardless of who they are. This repeats until one player gives up and decides not to stroke the next person. The winner is the person that doesn't bottle it at the last minute. Think of it like Chicken but with people that don't know they're playing. Its best played in crowds. If it takes off we can have a championship. I'll keep you all posted although I should warn you that Porno does have a real aptitude for this game which coupled with a pathological desire to touch people is pretty awe inspiring to behold...

Action Shot

Sooner or later though unless you have a conveyor belt of new targets, you will run out of people to touch and sure enough, we did, so had no option but to turn back to the Premier Travel Lodge Tavern to ditch our gear and wash our balls (individually, its not a team sport) before heading out the afterparty, which is pretty much the main reason that people go to these things anyway... The only problem is, that as soon as you put a number of unattended skaters in a hotel room hundreds of miles away from home, its only a matter of time before they start bouncing off the ceiling like a kid giddy on lemonade...

Sure enough, Cockleg didn't fail to deliver, and precisely 15 seconds after unlocking the door and turning the telly on, proceeded to jump up and down on the bed at a breakneck pace and kick out like a retarded caucasian Bruce Lee in a ropey wolfshirt...

When the appeal of beating off fighting off a hoarde of imaginary angry baddies had faded, Cockleg, Grosa and The Ultimate Nolan proceeded to make an assault obstacle course in the bedroom before we all went downstairs and had burgers for our tea... 

Cockleg was stoked that he would get a chance to wear his Jeremy Clarkson costume of chinos and a sensible shirt and confused a group of young lads who mistakenly thought that he was their dad come early to pick them up... Look how sensible he looks. Grosa was too busy concentrating on squinting at the bottom of his glass on the off chance that it might refill itself to pose for this picture but he was later heard to say how sensible Matt looked and expressed his surprise that such a nice looking young man would spend £130 on Special Dances at Legs Akimbo Lapdancing in Skegness...

The Clarkson outfit soon paid off when Su Pollard took her geggs off long enough to try and woo him... 

Its not immediately clear what is happening here but the guy that looks like he is french kissing his own hand is a Silvergult, which to anyone frequenting the Sidewalk Forum should be explanation enough, who spent a good 5 minutes doing a deeply erotic and pretty sensual dance entirely on his own much to the disgust of the weird trendy birds that were already in the bar trying to ignore the 50 odd skaters that descended like a sweaty plaid covered plague... 

Some other shit happened, Smedley gave it 150% on the dancefloor as usual and did a few righteous headspins before the almost entirely white population of the skateboarding afterparty entourage forgot that we weren't born in South Central LA or Queens and started bobbing around at the very slightest hint of HippyHop... We're so urban and that... I didn't take any more photos because I was busy drinking. It was tops. 

The following morning we discovered that it had snowed a good 6 inches overnight and Powley thought that it would be the best time to unveil his pretty incredible sleeping bag suit which has spurned me into action and I am now in the process of trying to blag one for myself. If by some remote chance anyone from www.Lippiselkbag.com is reading this then get in touch. I'll promote the shit out of it for you, I promise. 

We (and by "we" I mean "I") drove to Blackpool, hung out with Big Woody who runs Rampcity and ate chilliburgers which are a pretty efficient way of purging almost every liquid from your body at the same time. 

Thats about it, I saw some other people, some other people saw me, some guys jumped around on skateboards and then everyone had to go home. I spent a long long time driving and spent the following day laying about in either the bath or in bed. It was pretty triumphant. 

More updates coming soon, I saw Delores the prodigal dove return and case out the nest so there may well be some Satellite Dove updates in the pipelines... I'll keep you posted.

A Special Report...

I know, I know, the second post in 24 hours, but today has been a day of amazing revelations, even more revelationaryeryier than the other kind that you 5 (yes 5) love to read about on a nearly weekly basis: firstly, when going to work, to deal with the questions of idiots and generally spend the day trying my very very hardest not to cry, I saw a wonderful amazing heartwarming thing: 

After a few days realising that life too far away from her bearded camera wielding landlord was unbearable: DAISY RETURNED!

...and before one of you smartarses decides to argue and upset me by claiming that its a different one: youre wrong, its not, as I saw her trying to work out how to squeeze her large feathery frame back behind the dish that she fluttered out from... So there. I have become the proud owner of the worlds first Homing Dove...

Imagine how stoked I was seeing my estranged satellite dove had returned... a feeling that lasted approximately 3o minutes until I sat down at work...(Ill begin the work based rantings later, theres plenty to go round) getting up three hours later and wandering to Boots (who incidentally are filthy libelous dirty liars) to get a drink. My mate had to get a prescription so I found myself lurking around with not much to do and 50p to spare. 

So I made the second mistake in my day after "getting out of bed" and climbed aboard the BMI/Weight/Height machine...

 

This was the result. A small piece of the paper that effectively robbed me of an inch and dumped an extra stone in its place... Now I wouldnt claim to be anywhere near Adonis like proportions (at the minute) but I would be lying if I said that I was happy with being nearly 14 shitting stone...

Deciding that I don't want to live the rest of my life wearing sweatpants and having only a vague recollection of what my feet look like, I have set myself a target of getting down to a healthy weight by exercise, healthy eating and all that shit that I'd much rather ignore and play xbox instead of doing but lets face it, will in all likelyhood adopt the Brit Abroad Crash Diet technique and eat a packet of raw bacon... That'll shift it despite what Mrs Dickfingers thinks...

Expect the sporadic updates to resume... Im off to comfort eat my fat self until I cant feel feelings anymore... 

I hate you all, especially those of you that weigh 13st 9lbs or less... (Cockleg Im looking at you)

Benihanna's, Puppies & Abandonment...

Christ, 3 posts in under a week, either I'm leading a really fascinating life, or this thing is starting to monopolise my time in a similar way to the Sidewalk Forum, the single best place on the internet for talking about winkies, HalfCabs and casting aspersions on other people's sexuality. It can be found here if you have a few years spare and the patience of a saint, while in other Sidewalk related news, apparently I have reached the giddy heights of Internet Super Hero. It really is a rad day... Im giving some serious thought to tacking it onto the end of everything I sign, along with my Honoury Lordship from Sealand, (courtesy of the the God-Awful Redbull Media Machine which I may well go into another time) my title would be: Lord Dickfingers of Sealand Ba Hons, Internet Superhero...  Standard.

As mentioned in the last post, yesterday saw the Relentless Ride With Us Tour hit up a wet Pioneer, which meant that my only chance of skating anything (the 3ft high Miniramp) was dashed leaving me to do the only logical thing: have a brew and loiter. I managed to talk Chalk Kneed Porsche enthuisiast and curator of Shit Knees, Powley, seen below feeling the burn, into inadvertantly wandering into a retards teaparty and having a brew before realising just how awkward it was to stand around in a special needs day care group wearing flat caps talking about just how useless Cundall really is... (answers on a postcard with "Totally" clearly written on 'em...)

To overcome the weirdness we bullied this guy (whose name escapes me) into performing endless Benihanna's for our eager blogging fingers although I suspect he loved it really. 

Sad news: Daisy The Dove v.2 has finally done one, and has vacated the satellite nest for good. Reasons are unclear: she was either too big to fit in the bloody thing anymore or she might have finally got the hump with a bearded retard leaning in taking photos to update you Four (and Toby) but either way, she is gone. Expect another update this time next year if she returns and pops out an egg assuming I or you havent got bored with reading and writing this shit...

Mofugga, the artist formerly known as Cockleg, (who has asked me to stop calling him that as he's worried that the crushing weight of my influence on the internets might cause it to stick in real life) has only gone and got himself a dog. And not just a normal dog, oh no, his amazing little mate is called Klaus and is pretty much the raddest thing. Ever. Check out the pictures below of me looking smitten and the little rascal eating something that could be a greengage or birdshit. As cool as he was, I dont really want to be around him in 6-8 hours time... Have fun with that...

No idea what the next post is going to contain as Im still unsure whats happening next week but theres a more than good chance it will involve skateboarding and retards... Oh and my best mate in the whole world Toby wanted me to pimp out his blog which is full of interesting and informative stuff which you should totally check out to make him feel better about himself. 

The Dickfingers Collection Of Fine Art

Setting aside the wonderful collection of various dead and stuffed creatures scattered around Dickfingers HQ (and the one living thing out the front that I'll get to later) I thought that this deserved a special mention for sheer radness alone. Hand drawn entirely in biro by the dainty yet talented little fingers of the Sidewalk Forums very own small headed artisan, Alexoner, this beauty was commissioned in exchange for a very wee hat which I offered up for "something interesting" little realising that a few months down the line I would be the proud owner of a one off Dickfingers inspired original. I couldnt be more stoked. Mrs Dickfingers is still undecided (read: "she hates it and wonders why all the things I bring back to the flat have cocks on them")

On an art related tip here is the limited edition print of Horsey's debut graphic on Death which I have hanging next to the board itself. I would have got it framed exactly the same as the Dickfingers original you see above, however the Framing Lady decided that she couldn't be a party to such obscenity and returned it unframed. Please be sure to ask me if you want the details of "Framing With A Conscience" as I'll be sure to pass it on... I hear that Moral Preaching while you wait is a particular speciality

Unfortunately my burgeoning art collection is a couple of pieces away from respectable so Ill have to fill out the rest with pictures of bald rats with massive nuts...

...me performing my one trick...

...and my partially feathered Satellite Dove (v.2). Im pretty sure that we're only a couple of days away from flying the nest so expect me to get emotional, weepy and slightly withdrawn for a while until I recover/forget. 

Tomorrow marks the Hertfordshire leg of the Relentless Ride With Us Tour 2009, a free for all skate tour that's open to anyone that wants to go, and lets face it, that's the only way that I'll be able to get on one anyway, so expect some photos of Cockleg, Jerome, and various other idiots titting about on or near skateboards.

Over and out...

Blackfoot, The Gonz and Satellite Doves...

As predicted, the Fourstar Demo at Stoke was piss wet and consisted of nothing more than The Gonz arsing about in the weather doing boardslides in the wet. You have to marvel at skateboarding: there arent too many passtimes that you can justify driving a 6 hour round trip to watch a bloke you saw on the internet hang out in a park near a playground... Depending on your point of view it was either a rad day out or a very very long way to drive to watch an old man slide along a rail on an ironing board, but I guess it was better than sitting around doing nowt.

Toby decided to that to break the monotony of sitting in his van waiting for the 'Merrkans to turn up passing the time by making Fraser eat jam, we would go to the most council shopping centre in what was voted "Worst Place To Live In Britain" to have a cake. We saw a man eating Lasagne with Gravy and then proceeded to dick around until we started boring ourselves and left...

 

We went back to the carpark, and decided that because of the shitty weather we would waterproof Fraser's board, something that took him a good quarter of an hour to get rid of later...

I had a piss by the side of the road and Toby took a picture cause thats just the kind of guy that he is I suppose...


In other unrelated news: I went skating yesterday, tried a stinking trick to tail, of which I have many, and jumping off the board, managed to roll my toes. For those of you that are not involved in skateboarding in one way or another, rolling your ankle is a fairly common occurrence to skaters but I have never heard of anyone rolling their toes. Im not 100% sure how I managed it but thought that you'd all be excited to learn that it is indeed possible. Every day is a school day...


To end on two positive notes: firstly the Dove that nested behind my satellite dish last year has returned and laid an egg thereby ensuring that if all else fails I will definitely have something to report on here... 

and Cockleg from last weeks entry has decided to promote himself from "Casual Lurker" to 

"Fully Fledged Follower." Welldone Cockleg, tell both your friends... 

Next times exciting update to include "My Adventure In A Childs Maze," Interesting Things I Have Learnt Driving To Go Skateboarding" and "What Colour Is My Foot Today"...

Stay tuned...