Big Whup

Yeah I've not been around, big whup. Not done much writing in a while, had no money to splurge on fresh pick-ups, however I've done a couple of articles for the always amazing Halcyon Mag.

So if you want to see my musings on the near business collapse of Bape, or my opinions of Jeremy Scott, then click the links above.


(If you can't find the links then shout, I'll come round, give you a biscuit and a hug, then find them for you before leaving silently whilst mocking you mercilessly in my head)

- V.H.

Airbored

21/06/2011 – 14:35

The airport is a strange beast. Its the only place in the world where everyone is on the same page, where rules are adhered to and time waits for no man. It seems like a thousand years ago that I was last in ASDA, cursing the day evolution caused us to stand upright. Cacophonies of shuffling brainless arseholes hogging the oxygen and getting in everyone's way. Not here though. Everyone seems comfortable and at ease; behind me a small child sleeps across five chairs, whilst in front of me there is a group of teenagers eagerly awaiting their flight to become part of Camp America. I sit here decked out in a Supreme hood, Adidas three stripe track pants and my Nike AirMax 1's (or as Emma calls them, 'Netto shoes') people watching like a seasoned veteran. 99% of the people here are attractive, therefore a boring viewing spectacle. I have an hour and a half before my gate opens, my ears already exhausted from the likes of Adam and Joe talking absolute jibberish. I am bored. Think I'll go for a poo, it'll pass up at least 10 minutes.

19:45/14:45 (US)

We're flying like fucking sparrows now and my back feels like it's been punched by Asterix. Of course the bloke behind me is twitching constantly and annoying the piss out of me, but that aside the flight so far has been fairly theraputic. I demolished some alleged chicken mush and listened to Gustav Holst's 'Mars, the Bringer of War' to give rise to the occasion, and , more importantly, to make me feel like some kind of bad-ass sky captain. If I had the money I'd be doing this voyage by Zeppelin, wearing a monocle whilst doing so and brushing up on my sword fighting skills, but hey-ho this is the real world and as such I have the back of a sponge and the leg room of a school hall seat. Again, if time permits (which it shall, considering it's a near seven hour flight) I'm going to unleash another turdule and revel in the fact that I am releasing the beast at altitudes only accomplished by Superman... and the other thousands of planes which fly around the world each week.

00:30/19:30

Final preparations before landing. My legs have barely moved in seven hours and as such I'm starting to feel like a sea anenome, but with shitter hair. I've been sitting by the wing the whole flight, window seat an' all. The urge to do a Shatner and shout “There's something out there, on the wing!” is unbearable, at any moment you could look at me and see me trembling, using all my might to not launch into an unprovoked Twilight Zone reference. I don't think it'd go down well.

01:45/20:45

Landed, breezed through immigration like a hero, and am sat here waiting for my bastard case to arrive. To get me in the mood I'm listening to 'Illmatic' by Nas and getting into the New York State of Mind (if anyone dares correct me with 'Empire' then I will hunt you down and rip your face off with my teeth). The other passengers are gathered at the foot of the carousel, seemingly worshipping it like some kind of Incan God, giving praise for the gifts bestowed upon them. “A Samsonite business case! Thank you oh omnipotent one, I am not worthy.”

02:50/21:50

Sitting in the cab en-route to my hotel for the night. The driver is a cheery Indian bloke and the radio is as bombastic and crass as you'd expect, it practically borders on self-parody. The driver's accent is welcoming and made me ponder, as he sounds exactly the same as an Indian male in Britain. I expected some kind of different tonal inflection, or different slang but nothing. Its pretty cool. Also being a huge geek, I can't help but get GTAIV flashbacks from everything, a true testament to the guys at Rockstar's artistic visions and skills. When we were exiting JFK I couldn't help but think “Wow, I've massacred innocents with an M-16 there!” A tear was shed, it was a beautiful moment.

02:52/21:52

And then it dawns on you. The entirity of the Manhattan skyline in one eyeful. It is fucking massive, makes Liverpool and London combined look like a glow-worm, a dead one at that. America, your new favourite son has arrived.

Smorgasbord

Right, we all know I'm a crap blogger alright? It's not my fault that all my free time is spent fighting crime, sleeping and somehow getting chocolate on my neck, because with great power, comes great responsibility....

...so yeah, how are you and stuff? Really? Neat. Let's get down to the nitty-gritty; me what has been bought by the Hooligan for the last few months, neck chocolate aside that is.

TEES.

Above: 1 Seal tee, £15 - Lazy Oaf sale (January)

Below: 2 Popeye tee, Supreme, £35 - Dover Street Market (December)

Oh right, what a boob I am, turns out i don't have any photos of me in the other tees I blagged, and trust me there're some fucking beauts in there. But don't fret, I have a camera, and at least one friend with opposable thumbs so they'll be up soon. DON'T CRY BIRD.

So yeah, moving on...

1 How much of a beast is this please? Always got to show some love for Lazy Oaf, amazing designs on display on everything from tees to packing tape. This one was a no-brainer for me, let's run through the checklist;

* White tee? CHECK

* Fresh colouring? CHECK

* Ecstatic seal with tiny hands? CHECK

2 I don't need to tell you how hard Supreme is to get hold of. Seriously, it's a fucking joke at times, but then I'd rather it be that way than the average pleb bombing round town in a Supreme tee to match their G-Star Raw/Hollister combinations. Twats. But yeah, sourced this out way before release as I just full-on love everything about it, I mean come on, who doesn't love Popeye? The old drunk. It'll look even better when I lose my Christmas boobs though (yep, still here, damn neck chocolate...)

KICKS.

Above: 3 BAPE Roadsta88, £165 £99 - A Bathing Ape Pirate Store, London (January)

Below: 4 Nike + Stüssy, All-Court Black, £70 - The Hideout (December)

            5 Nike + Stüssy, All-Court White, £70 - The Hideout (December)

Above: 6 Nike AirMax Light, £90 - Foot Patrol (December

Below: 7 Nike AirMax 90 Infra-Red, £90 - Kixclusive (January)

The coming months are very strong in terms of sneaker releases, from the Nike Dunk Liberty and ?uestlove, to the upcoming new season in the Adidas/Star Wars range. However, before I get carried away I need to remember that I only have two feet and have to save up to go see Voodle in New York this summer (where I WILL finally snag the elusive Ueno Panda...)

3 BAPE opened up their first UK Pirate Store in Shoreditch from January 22-30th and offered rarities, factory seconds and limited quantities of fresh items at discounted prices. Naturally I was there on the sunday, met with a medium sized, but healthy queue outside the main doors, flanked by three huge guards decked in the finest Ape-wear. Inside was more of the same, with racks upon racks of goods surrounded by hype-bastards, clueless turds and general riff-raff. I copped a pair of red/gold Apesta88 (basically the Air Jordan 3 but for twice the price) discounted from £165 to £99. It was a no-brainer.

4 & 5 I previewed the Nike + Stüssy All-Courts back in October and impatiently awaited the drop. Learning my mistakes after the Nike Supreme 94 debacle I was all over tis release like a tramp on discarded chips. This time when I rang the Hideout, after exchanging pleasantries, I was hit with the million dollar question;

"Do you want to reserve a pair in white, in black, or do you want both?"

I shook, softly at first, but with each tremor my movement became more violent. Weighing up the pros and cons in my mind (Cons: Would barely afford to live for a month, christmas would be a struggle. Pros: I'd look hella bad-ass) I took the plunge and opted for both. Lucky I did though, as they sold out in a day, and considering that the Hideout was the only stockist of the kicks in the UK I was a very lucky boy indeed. I'll say this though, I didn't eat properly for the following weeks, but by God are my shoes beautiful.

6 Following on from my first AirMax gamble in August, I felt the time was right to get more. Well, that's a lie, I just happened to be in Foot Patrol with a fresh paycheck burning a hole in my pocket and had to buy them, mainly to fill the Infra-Red sized hole in my life...

7 ...which I plugged not long after. I wanted the Infra-Reds upon release back in August, but couldn't afford them due to moving down south, so when I finally got some pennies rolling I hunted the internet for a pair. As usual though, the only sizes available were in the region of size 5 (buy nice shoes you tiny footed pricks or I'll cut off your limbs). Luckily, New York dealer Kixclusive got some in to their web store, and the price, including postage, worked out roughly the same. Like all AirMax they're very comfy and seem to go with anything, despite the unorthodox colouring. Emma can't stand them though, but screw it, they're comfy and swish, and came in a stupidly fast amount of time.

So yeah, that's what I've been up-to for the last few months, aside from lucha-libre, Fanric, tee jaunts and music video making, but they're stories for another time....

...oh go on then. Here's a music video I made with my boys at Fungunt Productions for the Eurythmics' synth classic 'There Must Be An Angel (Playing With My Heart)'. Enjoy, and if you genuinely DO enjoy, then please let me, or the boys know through the above links *looks up two lines*

Tales of Interest!

Things have gotten a little slack here on BLHB, and I for one am not happy about it. Sure I can blame work, or the fact that all my free time has been spent either religously playing the latest Smackdown game or in the bank exasperated, but those would be the actions of a coward. Lucky then that I am a coward, so the answer is simple;

"My dog ate my computer."

* Recent Purchases

Money has started to flow into my bank account now so some inspired fashion purchases have been made, from the recent Nike Stüssy's (sold out in less than a day, I picked up two pairs), Nike Infra-reds and a pair of AirMax Lights, to one of Supreme's amazing Popeye tees, courtesy of DSM, bypassing a long awaited ensnaring of a 'look at me I go fox hunting/killing plebs for a gangster' Barbour jacket. It's safe to say then that I am loving my wardrobe at the moment as my collection of all things rare and exclusive is starting to blossom in this city that we call London.

*Noddy Holder-fest

Of course you don't need me to tell you that it's been Christmas recently, you've been constantly reminded by shops, television, radio and state sponsored propaganda films since mid June. This Christmas was a strange one for me peronally, as it was the first time I've been away form home in the build-up to the festive period and as such I was feeling a tad glum and bored. In true Steve Martin style though, I got home on Christmas eve (via train, not plane nor automobile unfortunately) and bounded straight to the pub dressed as a future sex offender to be greeted heroically and groped by a myriad of friends and relatives that I have not seen in months. Christmas itself, as ever, came and went extremely quickly and before I knew it I was back on my way to London bashing out my thoughts on my netbook. Ah well. The missus was up for a few days for the New year/January sales and my boys were up at the end of January for an ill-advised Fabric and shopping jaunt. As expected, several bass related injuries occurred.

*Odds and Sods

I'm obsessed with Nicolas Cage. I never thought it would happen seeing as I hated him as a child (despite never have seeing any of his movies until my teenage years). This recent worship was brought on by the incredible YouTube video of him losing his shit, which led to me shouting "VIVA LA FUCKING FRANCE MAN" at any opportunity, whether warranted or not.

Finally saw Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World and it is truly an awesome film. Combining the visceral talents of Edgar Wright, the subtle comic turnings of Michael Cera and enough American garage rock and dorky references to keep overweight fanboys like myself salivating, this film rocked my socks. Whilst being a comics mark, I've never read the Scott Pilgrim series (due to really hating the artwork, which, seeing as it's a visual medium is a biggie) but have always heard good things from friends and various internet based dwellings of the friendless virgins we call 'geeks'. The strength of this film, however, has made me reconsider my stance on all things Pilgrim, and will probably be dabbled with alongside the Walking Dead and my ongoing catching up of Transmetropolitan.

Being tipped out of a wheelchair hurts, especially if not 20 minutes earlier you were punched in the testicles.

I really wish I spent my childhood learning kung-fu instead of doing nothing all day except playing with Star Wars toys and watching the Simpsons. Actually wait, scratch that, I wish it was socially acceptable for me as a 22 year old man to do nothing all day but play with Star Wars toys and watch the Simpsons.

Viva la fucking France

Stüssy

Stüssy are going collaboration crazy this season as they continue to celebrate 30 years of hype glory, with the second Bape x Stüssy dropping in Bape London today and the upcoming Nike x Stüssy range hitting the Hideout next month. Want to see what's coming? Of course you do!

Bape x Stüssy: 'Survival of the Fittest'

The first part of this collab hit in late June and featured but a few limited edition tees. Part two promises to be much more imaginative, with tees, caps, hoods, shoes, coats and accessories scheduled to be released, as well as exclusive Bape x Stüssy shopping bags, also in limited supply.

Sorry for the piss-poor image quality...

Bape x Stüssy Limited Bag: Don't ask how I got hold of one. I won't tell.

So what are you doing reading this? This shit is a guaranteed sell-out, so if you're in London I urge you to go today and land some sweet threads! If not, get down to Bape in roughly two weeks time for drop number two!

For more on the collab, check out this interview with Bape's Nigo and Stüssy's Paul Mittleman form Honeyee.com.

Nike x Stüssy: 'All Court Mid'

Also released as part of Stüssy's 30th celebrations are the upcoming Nike All Courts. Scheduled to be available in both mysto blue and black, these are probably going to sell-out before they're even released. Hideout in London are the sole stockists of these in the UK, although exact prices and release dates are yet to be finalised. Go to Hideout's website and Paul Mittleman's blog for more details.

Get Real Paid

Finally FINALLY got some money in the bank since moving down to the capital, and by golly what a sweet feeling it is. Now I know that Christmas is fast approaching like a greased up sex-pest, but I needed some highly selfish 'ME' purchases...

...so I ended up in Bape.

Top 4 Images: Bape x Champion Crew Sweater. £190

Bottom 2 Images: Bape Large Head Belt. £195

I think I may have gone slightly overboard. However, in my defence against a flabbergasted Emma, I asked how much she had spent on clothes in the last 3 months and compared it to how much I had spent. It pretty much evened out. Buoyed by my successful wrangling, I have applied to do law at Yale (I haven't).

What are your thoughts on these purchases? Leave 'em in the comments box.

10 is the Magic Number

So there was I, doing my usual computer-based routine of blogging, torturing myself via the Billionaire Boys Club website and listening to Mark Kermode rant about Michael Bay when I saw that I'd been challenged to name the '10 Things that I Love' by the ever incredible Voodle. Not one to shy away from a challenge, I gave it a long hard think (I didn't, it came to me like a flash) and came up with my definitive top ten.

Things that remind me of my childhood

Including, but not limited to; Bill and Ted, Wayne's World, shouting "TURTLE POWER"

Dressing like a Super-hero, Terminator 2, Super Street Fighter II Turbo, WWF, Nintendo

Private Jokes

There is nothing greater than the bemusement of others,

especially if humour is the underlying cause.

Knowing that someone is on their way to see me

London is a lonely place when your entire life has been spent dicking around

with your friends in a little town by the sea. Knowing that someone is ready willing

and able to come keep me company for a few days makes me forget all that.

The pursuit of knowledge

"All men by nature desire knowledge." - Aristotle

Staying in bed watching cartoons

Come on, who doesn't love cartoons? A shameless smorgasbord of sex,

violence, death and more bright colours than you could shake a stick at.

Songs that amaze you no matter how

many times you've heard them

Music can not be explained. People can detail the technical elements 'til

they're blue in the face, but no-one can really know why a song is amazing.

Convincing the World that I am a style icon

People are sheep, everyone knows that. No matter how much we go against 

the grain, we are still being shepherded somehow and in someway. So people

should copy me, and look like a massive joke.

(I would NEVER leave the house looking like that by the way)

Star Wars

Fuck every other film ever made, they are all now irrelevant.

Clothing

It may not look like much now, but what you see before you

are the foundations of a Dynasty.

Home

SB = Swish Bastard

Yes. It's true. I now own some Nike x Supreme SBs. I am fucking buzzing.

Whilst the more seasoned and cynical followers of hype fashion may sneer at the Nike Supreme 94s I could not give two hoots. What this (worryingly) proves to me is how much I value my wardrobe as not only was I frantically calling into every sneak-boutique as soon as these were announced trying to find a supplier and a due date, but I had the numbers of said stores on speed-dial, calling in the middle of the night all forlorn and breathless like a sex offender. But, as is the case with Murphy's Law, I was almost right royally shafted. Now I have a job (but seeing as it started so late in the year) I was entitled to book one day off before December 31st, so I did and on the 18th of November I went home to Wallasey in order to spend a quiet weekend celebrating my 22nd with my family and my better half. Little did I know that on this average weekend not only would these sneakers drop, but there'd be no chance of reserving a pair. Oh and my future wife Dita Von Teese was performing in London.

I take it you now understand my sheer horror.

Fast forward to monday and my lunch-break in work. The phone comes out. The Hideout are called;

Hideout: "Good afternoon, Hideout."

Me: "Alright mate, what's the stock like on the Nike Supreme SBs in a UK size 10?"

Hideout: "Sorry mate, sold out."

Me: "Duck sauce."

Phone hangs up. A look of abject terror grips my face. Dover Street Market are called;

DSM: "Good afternoon, Dover Street Market."

Me: "What's the stock like on the Nike Supreme SBs in a UK size 10? FOR GOD'S SAKE MAN TELL ME."

DSM: "We have one pair left and they're in blue."

Me: "Please please PLEASE can you reserve them until after 5 tonight? I NEED these shoes!"

DSM: "Sure thing, see you later!"

Phone hangs up. My face calms down. My hands stop trembling.

Anywho, long story short, I got to DSM in record time from Shepherd's Bush, bought the bastards and danced home like little ol' Charlie Bucket.

Testin' like a Western

Follow my blog with bloglovin

That's right, just a link to a site which will (hopefully) bump my number of followers through the stratosphere. Click it or I'll deck you.

Also, check me out on the IFB.

Life Jim, but Not as We Know It

So it may not involve being paid to wear outstanding Reeboks, be transcribing the finest details of Snoop Dogg's latest wild party or write about African land snails, but I have myself a job. I'm currently working in Graham (plumber's merchant) in Shepherd's Bush and its surprisingly really really fun. I'm only two weeks into it but already I have witnessed prank calls, a klaxon attack, a sausage being slapped across a room and more homosexual innuendo then you'd care to shake a stick at. Boss. At the end of the day though it's money in the bank and I've had my eye on a fair few items as of late...

University of Michigan Letterman jacket

Currently available in Urban Outfitters for a cool £120, this will be mine and finally fill the varsity shaped hole in my wardrobe.

I must be totally honest with you though, there is one predominant reason why I want this jacket, it's not to make the missus jealous, or because I'd look like the High-School football captain (I will tackle everyone whilst wearing this jacket though). No, the reason I want this jacket, is so I can finally be one of the Steiner Brothers. Incredible.

Nike SB P.Rod

I've really been hankering for some stripped back SBs as of late, I originally had my eye on the Koston's, but unfortunately, as is the way with all sought-after sneakers, they're all but sold, except for sizes 5-7. Who are these tiny footed bastards and why aren't they buying these shoes? Duck sauce. Anyway, my next alternative is the Paul Rodriguez pro model, currently available from Slam City for a smashing £54.95.

A Bathing APE ASNKA Crewneck

I have never had a harder time finding an item of clothing as I have when looking for a simple grey sweater  with a nice front-print. It has been stupidly hard, like trying to cut an apple in half in mid air with a katana and no formal bushido training. BLHB favourites BAPE have this available on their EU website currently for £160, with a Champion collab available online soon. Again, I am going to hunt this down like a man possessed and wear it like it were a second skin.

This weekend in Shoreditch (12th-14th of November) you can find a Gimme Five endorsed sample sale. Entry is one English pound and features items from Stüssy, GoodEnoughUK and Billionaire Boys Club amongst others. Friday was Stüssy exclusive, and I managed to pick up one of last year's Xaime Hernandez tees (but in white) for £15. Sunday is throwing up a sale from London hotspot the Hideout which should unearth some absolutely choice cuts.

MOTIFS OF THE WEEK

• Scarves with everything
• Getting angry at Radio One
• Watching the original extended cut of Clerks on repeat with the commentary track
• Drinking hot chocolate and being called a Teddy Boy
• Singing LFC chants at any possible moment
• Listening to copious amounts of Fugazi
• Listening to Between the Buried and Me's cover of 'Territory' by Sepultura and thinking it would be ideal entrance music if I ever became a professional wrestler

See? I'd totally win championships to that music.

Halloweiners

Yeah yeah yeah so it's Halloween this weekend and you're probably really excited to express your annual love for all things 'satanic', horrible and costume related. Well good on you, nothing better than taking up any excuse for a party and letting your hair down, even though the cynical Brit in you might be seething at the American-ness of it (no offence Yank-pals, we just don't really get it). But the one thing I hate about Halloween (aside from horrible little scally children harassing you for sugar) is the unoriginality in the costumes that get spewed up, and I hate it to say it, but I'm primarily looking at the females in the audience.

Now from my experience this is how it goes with regards to 'fancy dress';

Girls: Lets have a fancy dress party! It'll be AMAZING.

Guys: Urgh, why? Too much effort.

Girls: Shut up, it'll be well good and it'll be fun!

Guys: Oh alright then, I suppose it'll be alright.

Girls - All dressed as cats and 'slutty' variations of everyday things. However there is usually one token amazing suit (Street Fighter's Chun-Li for example, or an everyday household lamp).

Guys - A plethora of home-made homages to pop-culture and Horror culture, even though the males weren't thrilled about dressing up in the first place. Plus the obligatory bell-end wearing a cheap mask and his everyday clothes.

You can argue all you want, but you know it to be true. This happens every sodding year! Lets fight back and re-take Halloween, WHO'S WITH ME?

5 Punchable Halloween Costume Ideas:

The Fallen fucking Angel

We get it, you want to be sexy yet evil, but you just look like a drag queen with no imagination. All the girls at the party think you look cheap, all the guys think you look easy, and you'll get hyperthermia before midnight. It doesn't matter how 'good' you look, take the piss out of yourself a little and you'll be a surefire hit!

The 'Pop-Culture Icon of the Moment' Costume

I'm looking at you brethren now you un-original bastards. Every year you can just tell which costume will be the 'hit of the year' and sure enough come Halloween there are a thousand fuckers dressed as it. Jack Sparrow, the Joker, the Crow, you know the offenders. Apparently this year's hit is set to be Lady Gaga's meat dress. Super fucking duper. Look back at the photos in 10 years time and laugh at how obscure your costume has became.

Ghostface Killah

A previous entrant into the 'pop-culture icon of the year' category, Ghostface has became an entity of its own, offering an easy costume idea to the laziest fuckers imaginable. Perhaps they're all being ironic and post-modern, echoing Wes Craven's point that slasher icons are more remembered than their films and that the genre has become hokey and stale. Either that or they're just a gimp. Tough choice.

Cat Stevens

Read my comments for the 'fallen angel' costume, but add this; WHAT THE FUCK IS SCARY ABOUT A CAT? For fuck's sake...

The obligatory 'tracksuit + cheap halloween mask' combo

Mainly sported by scary pre-pubescent little shits who are prowling the streets looking for blood, the addition of a cheap Poundland plastic mask to a tracksuit just isn't in the spirit of things, even though in the right circumstances (ie; getting chased through a forest, getting accosted in an alleyway) it can be pant shittingly terrifying.

5 Genius Halloween Costume Ideas:

The 'Pop Culture Group' Entry

Why stay current and predictable? Go back into the annuls of you childhood and whip out a blast from the past that'll make everyone go "Oh yeah! I loved that as a kid!" Think of the A-Team, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the Power Rangers and you're in the right area.

The 'Pure-Effort Homemade' Entry

It's only once a year, why not go all-out? You could either spend hundreds on an officially licensed costume, or make it yourself Neil Buchanan style and be the toast of the party and the subject of conversations for years to come.

An Inanimate Object

For some reason there is something hysterical about someone dressed as an inanimate object. Mainly its trying to decipher the thought process that lead to the costume's inception, but partially its the fact that although the wearer looks like an idiot, they're having the time of their lives.

Something Legitimately Terrifying

There's nothing wrong with dressing as something non-horror related as long as it's cool, but after all it is Halloween might as well try and scare the absolute shite out of everything possible. See above, my boy Josh dressed as Ronald McDonald at a business meeting. He spent the entire evening staring people out and hiding in dark corners waiting to give someone a cardiac. Freaky.

The 'Obscure WTF Were You Thinking?' Entry

Imagine the scene; you've just arrived at a Halloween house party and are wading through the throngs of vampires, cats and Freddy Krugers when across the kitchen you see Pat Sharpe. It's glorious isn't it? As with the inanimate object idea, the fun comes in both the stupidity and inspired genius involved. Bravo to you.

So there you are, stick to these rules and you'll be the talk of the party and treated like the hero that you are. Oh and stay in character, it'll add to your costume dramatically. As for me? Well I'm not too fond of Halloween as it is, but I've got the be up early the day after so chances are an evening watching 'Evil Dead' is on the cards. Groovy.

Movember Rain

The moustache is the greatest evolutionary step, greater than the thumb, greater than cognitive thought, greater than walking upright, it is quite simply the Mack-daddy of genetics. For some reason though, the mighty 'stache has fallen foul of society, and its only a rare hero that rocks the lip fuzz. Next month however is Movember, and it is every male's duty to 'stache up for testicular cancer awareness. Just think about it, you could be regarded alongside the heroes in the 'Moustache Hall of Fame', such names as...

Tom Selleck, the true legend of the lip pubes. Imagine a world without Magnum P.I; it's horrible isn't it. Now imagine YOU are Magnum P.I; it's fantastic isn't it! This moustache made 'Three Men and a Baby' and to a lesser extent 'Three Men and a Little Lady' (that is it made the films great, not as in 'created three actual men and a baby', although I bet it could if it wanted.) But as for Selleck himself, every woman on the planet at some point in their life has lusted after his immense being, twenty quid says his animal magnetic power lies right below his nose...

John Oates. Look at his face. LOOK AT IT. Do you think he'd be a millionaire if he was clean shaven? Get out of town and never return. The reason Hall and Oates were so good is because of Oates' furious filtrum growth. Allegedly Daryl Hall also grew a 'tache, but the combined power of their two face-statements were too much for any television, music player or human to handle and as such legislation was put into place decreeing that only one of them could rock the fuzz. Legendary.

Brad Pitt recently rocked the 'tache for two reasons;

1) No-one would take a Nazi arse-kicker seriously without rugged facial foliage.

2) Because he knew that he looked damn cool in the process.

Like Tom Selleck before him, there's nay a woman on the planet who doesn't want to be pinned down by the Pitt and treated like filth, Angelina Jolie included. Its a Hollywood secret that Angelina only shacked up with Bradley due to a promise he made to her regarding his growth of a moustache. Truth be told.

Jake 'the Snake' Roberts - legendary wrestler, animal lover and rugged pubic hero. When he wasn't DDTing people in the ring, you can bet that Jake was getting all sorts of women due to his immense handlebar. Just take a moment to soak it in, you can almost hear it blowing in the wind, and it sounds like every Led Zeppelin song played at once. Ferocious.

Seriously though, man-up and 'tache-up for Movember, it's for a good cause and makes you a true man, like the men of yore. In a nutshell, a moustache gives you licence to woo, fight and party like a genuine God. I'm already 'stached up, are you?

5 Fashion statements that make you a Twat.

Its a tough scary world out there, one that's fraught with danger, anger, and potential surprise bummings, and you need to make sure you will NEVER be a victim of unwarranted harassment. So here it is, my five tips to not look like a massive twat, follow these and your face shall never be smashed, your rectal cavity shall never be breached, and your sexual life will never be dormant. LET'S GO.

1. Tying a jumper/sweater around your shoulders

You twat, look at you, you're like a wannabe Yuppie but without the success. Its a known fact that the only people who tie jumpers around their necks are middle-class, up-their-own-arse bell-ends who have no concept of wealth and have probably never ever seen a black person in their life. Besides, if you adopt this look, its certified that you'll instantly regard the Stereophonics as 'edgy' and regard cress as the greatest sandwich filling (which we all know that it's not). Do us a favour now and sterilise yourself, because I don't have the time to destroy your offspring. Twat.

Usually teamed with; rugby shirt (collars up), boat shoes, comprehensive guide to the 'Wimbledon Tennis Tournament'.

2. Wearing braces

Oh so you're a skinhead now? No? Oh so you're a prohibition era gangster then? No? Well then you're a prick. Take those fucking braces off and invest in a belt you fucker. Why oh why would you want to look like a skinhead; to show-off and think you're hard, that's why. Skinheads haven't been hard since the 1980s, and even then they were hardly the kings of society. Nowadays skinheads have all the swagger, think they're amazing because they have a tiny shitty tattoo on their upper deltoid and pursue a life which involves sitting in parks drinking Tennants. Congratu-fucking-lations. Twat.

Usually teamed with; shitty Primark vest, dog shit coated Doc Martens, Skrewdriver cd.

3. Sporting non-prescription glasses

I've talked about this before, but its not going away and its more stupid than ever. Why oh why would you wear empty frames on your face? Why? WHY? Some people *cough*me*cough* don't wear glasses by choice, they have to because they are slowly going blind. Because I wear my glasses every minute of every day, I like to splash out on my frames. However, when I finally got my first pair of RayBan glasses, the whole 'geek' thing was taking off. I was met with such idiocies as;

"Are they from Topman?" (Are they shite)

"Are they REAL RayBans?" (Cheeky fuckers)

"I didn't know that you wore glasses." (From a friend that I'd had for 5 years, all of the time which I had spent wearing thick rimmed glasses)

If you want to wear glasses, feel free, but I'll have to detach your retinas first or plunge a fork into your eye so its legitimate. Still keen? No? Twat.

Usually teamed with; braces (noticing a pattern here?), tape, a plethora of giggling, drunk, first week of uni cunts.

4. Being a pathetic goth

Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking actual goths, just the safe, attention seeking goths. Actual goths can be cool (Nick Cave) and sexy (err, Nick Cave!), but the knobheads you see parading through your nearest town centre with their mum wearing New Rocks, an Evanescence hoodie and a dog collar are just twats.

"LOOK AT ME I'M EVER SO DARK AND I LISTEN TO REALLY HEAVY MUSIC. I'M DIFFERENT." You're not, you listen to pop-rock or shit (Cradle of Filth) and will grow out of this phase in a month or so. In the meantime though, I want to punch you square in the jaw. Twat.

The look; Massive boots (diving boots will do), cheap hair dye, 'edgy' tee.

5. Loving tie-dye with a vengeance

First off, you look like you stink. Get a wash. Second of all, you are dressed like a San Fransiscan's wet-dream. Seriously, tie-dye is the least cool/most punchable fashion statement there is. The only people who've ever pulled it off were ECW's Dudley Boyz, and even then every single wrestling fan in America wanted to smash their heads in with the force of an angry mule. Its also the main reason why I've never been to Glastonbury - I'd never get to see any of the artists performing due to wading knee deep in the blood of these fake hippy morons. Twats.

Usually teamed with; sandals and socks, tiny hiking shorts, 'the aura of nature'.

So there you go, now you can walk the streets in safety, knowing full well that no-one will/I won't attack you where you stand. Superb.