In this thrilling installment, Mr Sloane discusses the merits of ploughing one's own furrow, and the joy therein of finding plastic body parts...

"Good afternoon, dearhearts! I trust I have adjusted my settings and I am now being measured in good old GMT - I do not like the feeling of insomnia bought about by allegedly posting a comment at 3:16am...Damn those yankees!

Well...what treasures have I got to impart to you eager, square-eyed young pups today..? I don't really know, to quote Les Dennis impersonating Mavis Riley out of 'Coronation Street'...All that I do know is that snooker is on the televisual unit in my front room, making it hard for me to concentrate on drawing circus-type folk...Best not to ask questions...just carry on as if I weren't here at all...

...go on...I'm listening...

What was I saying..? Oh yes...I was fully intending to comment on an article I read at the weekend about the influence of pornography on our culture...Of course it was all about how young girls simply have to shave/wax themselves up in order to achieve that PPP - Perfect Porno Pussy apparently - & absolutely nothing about all these perfectly smooth balls you see all over the place...Eastern Europeans have a lot to answer for...But, to tell the truth, I'm not intelligent enough to get into serious moral and societical questions...So I'll not bother...

But...Take a look at my latest self-portrait...Aren't lofts great? I wouldn't swap my cheap tub of knock-off mr potato head pieces for a dusty old Turner or a (yawn) Ming vase...Just look at it...A potato in a yellow suit...

"Remember that life can be worth living...all you need is a potato!" - Bob Geldof, 1985.

...Larry Sloane, signing off...and hey...? Be careful out there..."

In the first of many true life, adrenelin-filled and desperately unfunny postings, Mr Lawrence Sloane sets forth his agenda for this blog...


"Here today we find ourselves, dear friends, at a crossroads...Like Robert Johnson and his near mythic deal with the devil - in which he gave his life early in return for 'Terraplane Blues' - or Miss Diane gently rejecting Benny's advances, we stand...wavering...like so many small, withered penises attempting to piss against the wind...

Many truths are preached to us from the media pulpits, from the strongholds of hox-ton and is-ling-ton...

Lap-dogs are this years must-have, beards are back, the super-hold-'I'm a tosser'-hair-gelled-badger-look is so last season. Abby Titmuss held-up as a post-modern feminist icon...jesus...

What we choose to blindly accept is up to us...But, dearhearts, remember that we only need to open our eyes and once more we shall be able to see...

So, what of this 'blog'..?

Technology frightens me, loose clothing in confined public areas terrifies me and alcohol no longer soothes the pain...What else is there but to rant against anything and everything in this here domain? I'm not sure how this is going to work...I don't know how much longer I can avoid getting an eye test...I don't know who, in fact, is ever going to read this - but the real beauty of all this lies in the fact that I couldn't care less...

Haha!

All I can say is that the one person I can think of to blame for this is Mr Ellerby...This is the result of me asking one too many questions, and telling one too many lies.

So, until the next time, to quote love-stud Shaw Taylor, "Keep 'em peeled"..."