THE DUGONG'S LAMENT

Wanda

2012-03-08T12:14:00.001+13:00

Travis

2012-03-08T12:13:00.002+13:00

Tonya

2012-03-08T12:13:00.001+13:00

Sarah-Beth

2012-03-08T12:12:00.004+13:00

Myrtle

2012-03-08T12:12:00.003+13:00

Mary

2012-03-08T12:12:00.001+13:00

Herman

2012-03-08T12:11:00.005+13:00

Helga

2012-03-08T12:11:00.004+13:00

Eugene

2012-03-08T12:11:00.001+13:00

Davey

2012-03-08T12:10:00.003+13:00

Brad

2012-03-08T12:10:00.001+13:00

Haunted crack den

2012-03-08T12:02:00.006+13:00

Young Women Nabbed In Bloody Satanic Sex Ritual

2012-03-08T12:02:00.005+13:00

Mum

2012-03-08T11:56:00.003+13:00

Colin Mathura-Jeffree

2011-10-27T08:08:00.002+13:00

Black beauty

2011-10-27T08:02:00.000+13:00

The Moist

2011-06-06T11:46:00.001+12:00

An enjoyable art film for the whole family.

Reader's Wives

2011-05-30T14:14:00.001+12:00

We made a film and after it was played the presenter said it was the most disgusting and offensive entry he had witnessed in his eight years of being a part of the competition. Victory? I think so! This is a proud day…

Renegade House Interview

2011-05-03T11:23:00.002+12:00

Rex Manning

2011-01-12T07:04:00.001+13:00

Rugged

2010-10-07T08:16:00.002+13:00

An attempt at the boss proves my heart is more aligned with Pacino.

Specs Appeal

2010-09-16T18:11:00.001+12:00

Spring fling

2010-09-01T13:24:00.003+12:00

Twee times on the first day of spring.

Agentinian Playboy, Unexpected Lovechild

2010-08-28T20:44:00.004+12:00

"Discreet Young Lover", "The Daring Twin", “The Ruthless Magnate’s Virgin Mistress”,“Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded”, “Big Spankable Asses”, “A Mother In the Making” and my personal favourite, "Agentinian Playboy, Unexpected Lovechild". After delving into such delights for Erogenous Tones, I thought it was high time I tried to transfer some of the hunk riddled sensuality from the pages of soft core to the pages of my sketch pad...

Cheryl

2010-08-28T16:34:00.000+12:00

Tinku festival 2010

2010-08-28T10:19:00.011+12:00

I heard about the Tinku festival from a friend of a friend of a friend, who had the information passed down through a girl who had experienced the festival firsthand the year before. The premise of the Tinku festival is for all the neighbouring tribes to meet and partake in a traditional cultural exchange through music, dance and fair fighting. Alcohol and human blood are spilled to placate pachamama, mother earth, to promote a healthy future harvest and to settle small disputes that annually arise in the community. This is why three pasty gringas travelled from various parts of South America to meet in Potosi, Bolivia. The highest city in the world at 4500m above sea level and home to the silver mines where over 8 million workers have died since 1550. So after tentatively waiting for our friend Ngaire to conquer the treacherous crossing from Argentina, we set out with our tour guides General and Veronica to Macha, a tiny little village in the mountains set amongst gorgeous alien landscape.
This is of course after trekking three km to our ¨private¨ bus and waiting for several hours trying to make small talk with an uncharismatic French Canadian on the 5 hour bus journey whilst trying to resist the urge to vomit. Needless to say I was driven to drink once we arrived at our motel. First rule of Tinku, you must have a drink in your hand at all times. But do not make the common mistake of drinking the local Ceibol, a potent tipple at 98% alcohol. Needless to say I was not the only person put to bed at 9pm on the first night.
Day two was when things really started getting hairy. All the different tribes from the neighbouring regions marched whilst aggressively pan piping donning traditional attire, which usually consists of decorative multi-coloured socks, bells, feathered helmets reminiscent of the conquistadors and a mandatory panpipe. One group even had an enormous pig. The pig was terrified but the people were enamoured so once they entered the square, babe the gallant beast managed to escape squealing down an alleyway. Once the groups made their entrance they would form into a group where a cholita (traditional country lass) would wave a white flag and the group would form around her to dance, which resembled an enthusiastic stomp.
Interestingly there were groups who deviated from the norm of two hundred people and ran about in groups of four or five. We did not fancy their chances. The music consisted of a traditional guitar and the pan flute, which literally played one short tune on high repeat for 3 days. Expect the drum and bass remix to come out next month. Then the fighting really commenced, an alcohol infused knock to the side of the head was an introduction to the combat, but events degenerated into chaos with all out brawls erupting with the only logical solution, teargas. Rock fights then broke out so we ran to our refuge behind a corrugated iron wall, which unfortunately did not protect us from the constant tear gassing and threat of a rock to the head. We decided it would be wise to climb a narrow and treacherous bell tower watch from above and try to get some scope on the madness that unfolded below. It was one of the most incredible and hideous things I have witnessed, and I truly felt guilt to being witness to something that although was so foreign to us gringos, was such an integral part to an ancient custom. The fact that it had been so despoiled by alcohol only added to the general mood. We were the tiny minority and our mere presence felt like an assault on the culture. One friend in our group was exceptionally tall and blond and was propositioned to fight at least thirty times. Our noses bled for weeks.

Mavis

2010-08-28T09:56:00.000+12:00

Ice ice baby

2010-08-26T20:35:00.000+12:00

Rose of Trailee

2010-08-25T13:33:00.000+12:00

Roid rage

2010-08-21T16:35:00.003+12:00

Hand job

2010-08-20T18:25:00.001+12:00

After too many conversations about bowel movements and parasites with fellow travellers I started to have odd dreams and feel a little unclean.

Fun loving characters

2010-08-20T18:06:00.003+12:00

A Peruvian gentleman donning his traditional bowler hat. Which makes me suspect this may actually be a gentlewoman.

This fine fellow we encountered at 9am in the fine township of Macha, Bolivia during the Tinku festival. He was possibly the most terrifyingly inebreated person we had ever encountered, who is now etched into my nightmares...

Mary, the autumn years

2010-08-18T11:55:00.003+12:00

Suzanne

2010-08-16T21:27:00.002+12:00

Buenos Aries, I love you

2010-08-09T17:21:00.016+12:00

Toting woodwind.

2010-05-03T07:48:00.003+12:00

A regal man about town playing some sort of woodwind instrument in a police compound surrounded by creatures of the night in Colombia. We shall name him Carlos. A quiet man, he is a victim of circumstance hence the quiet look of despair in his beady eyes.

Fergielicious

2010-05-03T07:22:00.002+12:00

In honour of my favourite corn row bearing Pea, here is a fresh celebrity portrait from the lounge of a seventy year old Ecuadorian named Gracelita. She preferred Ecuadorian pipe-band covers of Sinatra. But she did agree to drink two dollar schnapps and her son made us a current salsa CD. Fergie brings out the best in all of us.

Kapow

2010-05-03T07:09:00.000+12:00

The classic Brazillian behind that is recreated via plastic surgery in Colombia.

Gavin

2010-05-03T06:54:00.002+12:00

We shall call him Gavin. He likes football and Stella Artois. He resides at every hostel around the Peruvian belt.

Proud Mary, the autumn years

2010-05-03T06:26:00.002+12:00

Proud Mary in sepia. This ravishing beauty bewitched us in a Caracus bus terminal after spending two days on a bus from the cultural capital of Brazil, Manaus.

From Russia with love.

2010-04-01T07:09:00.003+13:00

After a perilous journey through the bad lands of Venezuela, we happily land in the seaside city of Santa Marta in Colombia. I encountered this curious Russian sex tourist in the grimy Hotel Mirimar, where he proceeded to sit next to me and ask if I wanted to `Lie down together and give one another erotic massages`. What a man, what an offer. He deserved a portrait.

Tori Amos

2010-04-01T07:02:00.002+13:00

A birthday gift for the beautiful Amos. Happy birthday my darlink, hope you loved the Colombian mud orgy!

Proud Mary

2010-03-26T03:47:00.014+13:00

While travelling in Brazil, Venezuela and Colombia I have encountered some delicious characters. Some were friendly, others would probably like to eat your spleen. Here is my interpretation of some of these folk. Forgive the terrible quality of the photos, but this is South America afterall...

Proud Mary. She was indeed proud and clad in fluroscent aqua, reminiscent of Mo'Nique in 'Precious'. Traipsing around the Caracus bus station with her weasely mustache toting manbag, she was a vision in blue.

This charismatic adolescent had the unique approach of pointing a gun in your face while telling you how pretty you looked. Oh,and passport please. We encountered over ten of these lads on the bus in Venezuela, particularly fun when you wake up to a steel handshake.

Probably the only phrase in English this charming gentleman knows, all he wants to do in lurk in the shadows and express his love....

This is one of the wonderful characters that we encountered on a daily basis in Brazil, or in anywhere in South America for that matter. He has watery eyes, an air of desperation, and his voice resembles that of a husky Cheech Maron.

This man was sinister, spotty, greasy and worked at a hostel in Salvador. He has no name...

My favourite straggler of all time, the Lapa sex tourist. A man of about fifty give or take a few years, was lurking the streets of a bloc party in Lapa at about five am when we encountered him. His skin was almost transluscent with a subtle hint of grey. Not unlike the character of Gollum. But with man breasts and an emaciated frame bar the beer gut. He resembled a sex tourist that you would imagine in South East Asia, sans the Haiwaiian shirt. His friends included a hyped up slum dweller who supposedly threw his material life away for love, and a Geneva based lawyer tripping on LSD.

After thirty six hours on a bus from Brazil through Venezuela, I was rather pleased to encounter many lovely people at the Caracus bus station,where we had to wait with all our worldy possesions for eight hours. Former murder capital of the world,no big deal... We met some tattoo artists during the day,who I would have to say are the first hipsters I have encountered in South America, Wellington styles. The achingly hip Jhonathan and I did a live portait swap while the entire bus station seemed to watch. Which helped as they spoke no English and I minimal Spanish so it was a nice activity once the broken small talk had petered out and we could no longer talk about how great ABBA Gold is. Which it really is.

The beach straggler in Salvador. He had a maddened gleam in his tiny little eyes, like he was suffering from an overdose of crystal meth. He did make a delicious cocktail and he lived on the beach. Pure sinew.

This fine speciman of a man was encountered at a bloc party in Lapa, a neighbourhood in Rio. At first we were rather taken with his outrageous enthusiasm for afros,but soon recolied with horror when he would leave his tounge partially draping from his lips, an invitation to romance as he would inch towards the face of any unsuspecting female in the vicinity, particularly Bex. The tagline reads,I am not an animal! RIP John Merrick.

This here is the crown jewel of Ipamena, deaf gay guy. The lovely Micheal and Sam encountered him one fateful afternoon on a bus going to the beach and their lives were transformed. Our hearing impaired friend had a certain tone that would deliciously permeate the eardrums, emparting such pearls as `Shorry, could you shay that again?'. I have never seen him in the flesh, so this is an impression based on the data gathered by Mike and Sam. Apparently he has the physique of Moby.

This little lady is just a generic Colombian beauty, mixed with my favourite Brazilian former playboy playmate and current children television personality, Xuxa.

I was raised in the projects... Rio street art

2010-02-27T14:08:00.035+13:00

Arctic Fire

2010-01-02T15:18:00.006+13:00

Something truly marvelous happened to me a few days ago when I was visiting my family for Christmas. On the final night of the trip we went to visit my second mother, Anne. We were given the tour of her charming abode, only to walk up the stairs and encounter this majestic beast.

I fell to the ground and wept.

Vote for us!

2009-11-23T18:08:00.001+13:00

Voting open now!

http://wellingtonista.com/

Geo got a tattoo...

2009-11-14T09:00:00.003+13:00

Yesterday James and I accompanied George to the delightful tattoo parlor of Rodger on Cuba St. It was a momentous occasion for Geo as it was a tattoo that she has wanted all her adult life. The sound of the needle still pierces my soul, but she was very brave and now looks like a true glam rocker.

Something else happened....

I met this gentleman. My first encounter with serpent taxidermy. I hope it will not be the last...

Avian flu

2009-11-14T08:58:00.001+13:00

A Peacock that didn't make the cut... Bons always said that peacock feathers were bad luck...

Ex-huh-bition

2009-11-14T08:25:00.013+13:00

After a strenuous time of planning and painting, the delightful Don at DAF106 gave me the chance to do my first ever show. I laughed, I cried, I gave birth with emotion. Highlights include dancing to Bone Thugs with a select few whilst drinking copious amounts of goon as Don forced innocents off the street to purchase my zines. Thank you to all the wonderful folk who attended the opening and to those of you who haven't seen it yet, it runs until the 21st November. Do it.

Mondo

2009-11-10T11:40:00.003+13:00

After an exhausting week which will be documented here very shortly, it was time to return to my roots in androgyny.

Falling off the edge of the earth...

2009-10-27T17:05:00.008+13:00

...prior to this, I decided to immortalise the people's favourite pooch, Mary Jane. No feat is too large for this wild beast, who managed to jump through a glass window and attack a builder. All in the name of love for her beloved owner Rahui, of course. Mary Jane is the most famous dog in all the land, particularly Petone, so it only seemed fitting to paint her for Rahui's birthday. Unsurprisingly, the eve of gift bestowal saw your favourite animal portrait enthusiast almost meet her grim demise at the bottom of a cliff... I am left triumphantly unscathed, apart from a few cuts and bruises.

This was originally a tiger, then a cougar and now it has evolved into a mighty lion, the power animal of many. My power animal would have to be a cocker spaniel due to our similarity in hair colour (spaniels of the caramel persuasion) and fighting spirit, not to mention my spiritual connection with a now deceased spaniel named George. RIP George.

I secretly wish my power animal was something more glamorous like a horse, but I am terrified of horses ever since superman was killed by one. RIP Christopher Reeves.

The sinister beast Lagomorpha. The first attempt at a non-rouge taxidermy fusion of hare and antelope, it is not surprising to feel as though this rabbit is missing something. Namely horns.

Following an inspirational day of foraging with Jimmy we found this special nativity set at the local Salvation Army. The gold paint was not included. Nor was the rat-king baby Jesus.

Wowsa!

2009-10-21T16:28:00.002+13:00

I'm having my first ever solo exhibition at DAF106 on Aro Street from November 4th to 21st. Opening night is Tuesday 3rd at 5:30pm. Come along, drink, be merry, help me celebrate, you may even get to meet my Mum if you are lucky... All are welcome, would love to see you there!

Fail

2009-10-09T20:38:00.003+13:00

After a failed attempt at freeganism, class A drug addiction and prostitution seem like the only answer... Will this be the end dear readers? Surely one cannot paint animal portraits in the dim lighting of Marion Street? Then again, perhaps a lap top is the key! Or another attempt at the frugal life.

Saddle club

2009-10-06T20:15:00.004+13:00

After a debauched evening of being photographed as a prossie in a hotel room with fake blow and a bevvy of beauties my mind and body were weakened. My spirit was ebbing. The world no longer seemed like a beautiful place of innocence and wonder, but rather a desolate wasteland of sin and vice.

It is no wonder the mare suffered at my affected mental state (overdosing on cough syrup will do strange things to one's mind). I have now realized that I simply cannot paint a horse without some sort of menstrual reference. Oh dear. Forgive me pony. You do not deserve this...

Look what arrived in the mail today...

2009-10-02T10:33:00.002+13:00

I will never leave the house again...

Gypo

2009-10-02T08:55:00.003+13:00

After many a happy visit to the Adelaide pub in the distinguished suburb of Nueva Ciudad I have come to know the intricacies of the dart room. And so has the delectable Alice, who after developing an infatuation with a certain poster of Keith Richards asked me to attempt to replicate it. Try as I might, my shaking hand cannot do justice to the glorious creature who resembles a walking scrotum...

The rat king has devoured himself.

2009-09-30T21:37:00.017+13:00

...to assume an identity free from the shackles (in the form of

rodent tails) of his clan. And didn't he do a marvelous job?

Mia Sparrow.

2009-09-24T09:37:00.004+12:00

Crispy.

Oh my God, we're back again...

2009-09-23T14:19:00.001+12:00

After an extraordinarily successful first live reading we have decided to turn it into a regular gig. The second Erogenous Tones reading will be far bigger and better and hosted by Watusi Bar, with sensuous tunes from 9pm. This time the police will not be called...

I cannot wait to see the film on Sunday...

2009-09-15T15:07:00.000+12:00

Megalodon

2009-09-13T21:32:00.001+12:00

Is coming soon. Watch this space...

Rip got Torn. Literally.

2009-09-10T21:42:00.004+12:00

Ngaire and I have recently made a decision to become self-sufficient. I do not mean this in the hippy way. We are urban gangsters, we have to be realistic here. But times are hard, so we have to adapt to the gruelling disappointments of the modern age. We have to fend for ourselves, rummage through skips, that sort of business. Its a modern world and I am a modern gentlewoman.

After an empowering day of craft with Jimmy, I was dismayed to see I had been locked out of the Palace of Dreams, a.k.a my flat after the "gardener" if that is his true profession (of this I am doubtful) locked our sliding doors. Storm clouds were looming, I had four heavy bags in tow, my prospects were looking grim. But after a terribly motivating chat with myself, I managed to hoist myself up through a perilous crack in the bathroom window. There were only two casualties, which I would rather not discuss. I felt triumphant. Strong. Empowered.

Until... RIP! What happened to you? You were hanging in a glass frame when I left the house this morning. You have changed....

The puss is now complete. After sitting in my room for months, mocking me with slightly down-syndrome eyes (note that these have not been altered) I have finally finished the beast. But why does it continue to haunt me?

Blood Bank

2009-09-02T22:15:00.005+12:00

Brand-spankin' new zine on offer! Email if you would like me to post you a copy. Or come on down to Aro Street markets and purchase one in person for the modest price of two scrilly.

Charlton Douglas Ridenhour

2009-09-02T09:55:00.004+12:00

A.k.a Chuck D. After a few enthusiastic screenings of "Flava of Lurrrve" with every one's favourite buffoon Flava Flav, I thought about how Flav has systematically illegitimised his entire music career. Genius. Chuck, on the other hand, lectures at Universities, writes books and ventures on political tours around America. Who would you rather have a pint with? (I just know you would pick the talking clock).

Aro Street Markets

2009-09-01T10:08:00.002+12:00

Come celebrate the coming of spring at Aro Street markets this weekend, where I will be selling zines and art at a low low price! Moet.

Hunks of yore

2009-08-11T08:29:00.004+12:00

Mick Jagger. You light up my loins. Even though these days you do resemble a walking scroat sac... If its good enough for Jerry, it is good enough for me. She conquered Bryan Ferry after all...

Adrien Brody. You are my dream man. Tall, dark and brooding with an almost phallic protuberance coming from the centre of your charming face. If you ever come back I will gladly stalk you...

And, er, Ringo.

These three and more will be in the next issue of Incredibly Hot Sex With Hideous People. In other zine related news, we will have a craft stall at the Pulp Culture expo next Wednesday from 12-3. I have two new zines to exhibit. Come on down and get a copy personally. If anyone would like to display some zines there flick me an email.

Erogenous Tones

2009-08-10T12:02:00.003+12:00

Calling all friends! We are having our first live reading at the Pitt Bar (next to Bats theatre) this Friday the 14 th August. Velociraptor erotica and Brady bunch incest porn will both feature... Come and show your support.

We will be playing vinyl of the highest calibre and were wondering if anyone had an amp that we could borrow for a couple of hours? We would be eternally grateful. There would be a guaranteed sexy shout out...

Girl I wanna make you sweat.

2009-08-05T13:46:00.006+12:00

Was the ambassador for the human race really a cruel manifestation of all human weakness? He was beautiful and ultimately destroyed himself through peanut butter. What can a person make of this? Are we all destined to bloat and perspire to death? Dear god...

Flyer than the rest of 'em...

2009-08-04T08:55:00.007+12:00

A gift for Beth. Because Lil Wayne and I love her.

It may be time to stop for a while. I have listened to "Tha Carter III" for four days straight now and am finding it hard to concentrate on other things. Work, eating, sleeping, gooning. People speak to me and all I can muster is an inaudible mumble. Stop undressing me with your sexy eyes Lil Wayne! It's witchcraft!

Or both... Simultaneously...

2009-07-16T17:31:00.003+12:00

Magmadoodle

2009-07-16T12:10:00.005+12:00

The Dugong's Lament Presents: Crip Coffin

2009-07-07T12:53:00.004+12:00

After working on this I must ask myself, am I a wigger or a bogan? Bigger wogan... Part two of the soon to be expanding zine empire. Printing in two days people, so if anyone would like me to post or personally deliver a copy you only need to ask! Just flick me an email with your postal address and I can deliver the goods. Peace.

Please don't think less of me...

2009-07-06T12:20:00.004+12:00

... for doing a picture of MJ. I know you must be nauseous with the over-exposure of his life and death at the moment, I understand your dismay. But he was dear to the hearts of many, particularly a special friend of mine who I sadly missed when in Wellington. You know who you are... This one is for you...

Although I must confess as I was putting fake tattoos on my neck, drinking Country and watching "Ben" on youtube, I shed a solitary tear...

Fork yes!

2009-06-24T16:11:00.002+12:00

My unhealthy obsession finally paid off... For the next day or so...

http://www.moleskine.com/mymoleskine/community/mymoleskine.php?page=1

If you don't know me by now...

2009-06-22T16:04:00.003+12:00

You would not have discovered that I contracted leprosy in the weekend and now look like this...

On the topic of death (and recycling)...

2009-06-18T09:48:00.016+12:00

I always like to carry my moleskine around (pretentious asshole, anyone?) in the likely outcome of getting killed by a bus in rush-hour traffic. Preferably at lunch time. When the natural light is flattering. This way, when some indifferent scene homie stumbles upon my skewn corpse they will see a window into the realm of the real Tommy Ross. They will laugh, cry, give birth and their life will be changed irrevocably for the better. They will no longer seek hedonistic thrills, but shall become my devout follower and exhibit my work posthumously (as Thistle Hall will not).

This is what they will see in consecutive order... (yes, they have all appeared on this blog but never as a collective)

I watched "Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants 2" yesterday...

2009-06-18T08:47:00.002+12:00

It left me craving death...

Cryptozoology has a face... Many faces...

2009-06-16T16:15:00.007+12:00

Fitting that the rat corpses in this particular rat king are only babies, considering this is to be the the first of hordes in an extensive study of the cryptozoological phenomenon known as RAT KING...

I've encountered many rats in my time, but this one, dear readers, is KING.

Can your pussy do the dawg?

2009-06-11T12:35:00.002+12:00

Thought so...

The dark lord has taken a tangible shape...

2009-06-10T13:05:00.005+12:00

In the sinister form of an opossum. Thrusting its penetrating claws towards innocents, a mere glance can wither the vulnerable hearts of the young and old alike. Be warned, be wary. Despair and anguish is packaged in a grotesque hairy lump with claws.

Opossum, I fear thee...

I wish I hadn't gone to an all-girl's high school in the South Island...

2009-06-10T10:42:00.003+12:00

This is supposed to be Stevie, but I got a little carried away with the watercolours and she morphed into Myrtle. Sorry Stevie, you were never this dowdy. Or downy for that matter...

My obsession with Curtis continues. This is a high school yearbook archive from the 9th grade (do not ask me to translate to the New Zealand equivalent because I just don't know anymore). Before Curtis' mama started selling her tidy ass on the street, before Curtis started selling crack, before Curtis acquired his endearing speech impediment as a result of being shot in the face. You have changed Curtis. You used to be cool....

So much promise, potential... lost, in a haze of bling and beefcake.

Elephantitus of the soul...

2009-06-10T09:12:00.003+12:00

The humble aardvark, a.k.a "earth hog". He is nocturnal and solitary creature, much like my favourite Courtney Place street urchin "Gamblor", and much like myself as of late. I found this lonesome little guy in the wonderful animal encyclopedia lent to me by Kenny. Sadly even I bored of him and failed to colour in his tail. Abandoned by his own creator. Shed a tear for the earth hog...

Siamese Satan beast of doom, a.k.a baby goat. This piece symbolises the frustration of being a a Siamese twin baby goat joint at the neck, the beauty of menstruation, and teenage pregnancy...

Another request from you, dear readers...

2009-06-08T14:09:00.005+12:00

Does anyone know how to "acquire" the latest photoshop edition? I have some things I need to do that may require more technological advancement than a sharpie and a paintbrush. Then again... I DO have a twink pen.

Any pearls would be enormously appreciated. With BJs. Here is a picture of the late great André René Roussimoff to inspire you... Yes, it is a DUI mugshot and it will be featured at a later date. After my current creative issues are resolved.

Ripped to shreds

2009-06-04T13:46:00.006+12:00

Rip Torn. Third DUI in 5 years. Allegedly driving down the motorway with a Christmas tree attached to the hood. In the breakdown lane. Tortured and tousled...

Some old sketches I stumbled across...

2009-05-27T20:15:00.007+12:00

The following sketches were for posters for gigs at a Christian radio station for my pal who works there. Yes I know. Hence the religious flavour... And the nipple leak (I'm a bad person).

Sharpie/pencil/watercolour fusion, a.k.a mongrel art...

2009-05-27T19:12:00.004+12:00

My first "official" foray into watercolours ("Glue Ear" was the unofficial deflowerer) I cheated and used pencil and sharpie to guide my shaking HIV riddled hand. Though the experience was made sweeter by using my very own computer to make this post! Pleased to meet your acquaintance technology, my name is Tammy Rose.

I only did it because you deserved it...

2009-05-26T21:08:00.002+12:00

This is my emo homage to the mounted deer. Emo because of the blood spittle on the lower lip. You may have to zoom in... I have become dangerously fond of gold paint in the last week so I apologise for the poor quality of the flash. Emo deers should by no means sparkle, they simper and plot macabre activities in the woods involving small children...

Glue ear

2009-05-26T21:07:00.003+12:00

Or should that be "blue ear"? Sorry, I'm sick. This is a visual representation of what is going on in my sinuses and chest. Erotic. Also a nod to the terrible aural affliction I suffered as a babe...

Do the dawg

2009-05-26T17:39:00.004+12:00

Here is the lovely Python that I did for the lovely Helen in Melbourne. Thank God for the HIV, I have been bed ridden for days and managed to get this bad boy finished.

Just when you thought you would never see another animal portrait...

2009-05-24T20:41:00.003+12:00

Behold! A half-finished lion as a gift for Geo. Which will soon be finished... If I can get over my ever evolving daily obsessions which range from Danson to Doherty to DRAGONS.

A terrible photo of a man of colour. With white glasses. It is a cultural piece.

Oh how the mighty have fallen... down...

2009-05-18T09:07:00.007+12:00

Part one: Heather Locklear, 47. 4.30pm. Santa Barbara.

A far cry from her delicious hey-day as brothel madam on Melrose Place. Locklear will also feature later with her ex-husband Richie Sambora, who also has a penchant for having a cheeky swill of mother's milk before going for a joy ride in Beverly Hills in the wee hours of the morning.

Part Two: Yasmine Bleeth, 32. Detroit.
Bleeth was technically not in the throes of a drunken stupor, but rather twitching up a storm in the aftermath of a blow binge. So though it was not a DUI arrest, she did look spectacularly drunk and transformed from her former glory as Hasselhoft's eye candy.

Interesting to note, she got arrested on the 12 September 2001. I guess it would have been harder to smuggle syringes in a crowded panic-stricken airport. Why not drive into the highway median instead? Subtle Yasmine, subtle.
Lindsay Lohan, 20. 5.30am. Beverly Hills.

Our troubled angel. This wouldn't happen if you went back to being a ginge. Ginger's are immune to bad luck and misfortune...

Haley Joel Osmond, 18. Los Angeles.

Remember Haley? He doesn't remember you. He hit the booze hard after The Sixth Sense. He's been pretty jaded since his necrophiliac hallucinations... Who can blame him really?

Now I need some help from the hoi polloi...

2009-05-11T20:18:00.002+12:00

Not meaning you of course, dear readers. I am going to be putting on my first exhibition. Sensual times. I need your feedback on power animals. Mine is a dugong. Obviously. What is yours? Any suggestions would be warmly appreciated...

The mother cries as her young man dies...

2009-05-11T08:42:00.010+12:00

Big Pun a.k.a Big Punisher a.k.a Christopher Rios. Died of a heart attack at the tender age of 28 due to complications of being a fat fuck. RIP.

Lisa Left Eye Lopes. The glorious hell-raiser of TLC fame. Facial tics never looked so fetching.

Died in a motor accident at age 30. RIP.

Jam Master Jay. Was slain in his studio at age 37. It is rumoured that this man was indirectly involved:

Oh Curtis. Why?

When a rapper dies, a part of us all dies...

2009-05-06T11:57:00.003+12:00

After resisting the urge to try out the Pac, I realised that there cannot be a dead rapper's collective without everyone's favourite rude-boy. So here is the first of possibly several attempts at Shakin' Shakur. Hence the lack of detail at the facial periphery. I'm not ready to tackle his brutish masculine form in its entirety. I first need to do justice to that virile, penetrating gaze...

I'm gonna gut you sucka......

2009-05-04T08:57:00.004+12:00

Coz I'm a real baos...

The fruits of the Mout...

2009-05-04T08:52:00.003+12:00

Whilst hanging with the olds...

Hunks

2009-04-29T16:55:00.005+12:00

And a hunk was born! Several, to be more precise. This is my first foray into zinedom and boy howdie, was it a hoot and a holler! After helping Crenny with his last one I felt it was time to take charge and share my own voice (and the voices of the hunks I love). They will be distributed in all the usual haunts where zines ordinarily reside, as well as the public library and space thing library. Or if you want one just email me and I can post or personally deliver a copy, depending on how much I like you.

Jason Gunn.

2009-04-22T15:44:00.002+12:00

'Nuff said.

Macauly Culkin before MJ had his evil way with him...

2009-04-22T10:59:00.001+12:00

The teen dream will eventually sag, wrinkle and decompose...

2009-04-22T09:14:00.004+12:00

Some of you may be puzzled as to why there has been such an emphasis on adolescents from decades of yore and not animals or rouge taxidermy.

I am about to compile a zine of these drawings which I will make available on this blog. I am yet to finish it, name it, write anything for it, but it will be coming out on Thursday. You will laugh, cry and give birth with the sheer emotional force.

After being a devout lover of 90210 when I was a chill'un (which extended to the fanny pack, playing cards, nightie, magazine, puzzle and figurine) it was only appropriate to draw Shannon Doherty in her prime. With a demure expression on her otherwise slutty exterior, Brenda was the quintessential bad girl obstructed only by dowdiness and a criminally attractive twin brother. Luckily she met Dylan, hussied it up and became every girl's idol.

James Spader. I did this last night when I was so tired that my eyes were starting to water. Hence the failed attempt at Adonis. Perhaps I am not ready to sketch such perfection?

Johnny Depp. Sadly his foray into pantomime has taken away from the glory of the younger Depp. Present-day Depp is a joke. 21 Jump Street Depp was a dream.