Wednesday, 11 March 2009


Blud remember when a mad Juggy hoisted that bre in that park bush and he broke his arm, and the bre shat himself and Juggy reverted to hitching on the motorway with that beefing bre to get him to the hospital!? This is just one of a string of frankly barbaric situations often me and my friends created to cause total chaos. The charming man you see in these photos is my best friend Josh who I first encountered when I started secondary school. We have remained in contact where other pals of mine from that delirious era have unfortunately lost connection.

Its so joke when we recall events, I ask myself, what frame in mind were we in to do these insane things? Like for instance we held annual 'Rushmore week' where me and my pals would spontaneously bust up someone for the utter joke of it. A highlight of this ritual would entail slapping a rock in the school tie and slapping anytime bres with it. Timeless entertainment, unless you was on the receiving end which therefore you have only yourself to blame as you should have been alert, everyone was informed that it was 'Rushmore week.' No one was safe, even our friends doing the rushing was entitled for a rushing. Even animals qualified for a slap down.

At our school we had a juvenile system called W.R.O, just writing it makes me want to headbutt a free range Cow. It stood for Warning, Report, Out. This was put in place so it kept (never did, even some bodriks were rebelling) the kids under authority and Teachers in power. If you were misbehaving you got a tick under W, and if you was still on a mad one you would get a tick under R which meant you had to 'report' back after school and write 200 lines aka Bart Simpson and if you was still non conforming you got the dreaded tick under O. This meant that you had to escort yourself to the hall and stay their until the class was finished where you had characters such as T-Bone Tyrone dropping anti educational farts that would sound similar to tropical thunder and smell like a vintage early 90's Crack Donalds Quater Pounder with Cheese. Also you had to see your Head of year teacher at the end of the day which ours happened to be a 80's casual petty looking Lesbian thug without charisma (do any of them have charisma?).

I got ousted from my D.T class and Josh followed on and got deported one minute after me so we both thought it would be a positive move to have good times and catch some joke on the expense of the school. We were running through the corridors which for some reason was unusually really quite. We snuck into the back of the drama class which was going on and to our delight we found two Micro scooters just plotting! We took them and slowly crept out of the back, but we must have made to much noise out of excitement and the tutor clocked us and came out of the class in hot pursuit. We did naught to 20mph in like 5seconds on those things and we was off down the corridors. Their was a warrant out for us, and Kingy Boy herself was lurking in the shadows making us her personal vendetta. We was on the rampage for one whole hour before we got cornered by our P.E teacher who told us that he was employed by Kingth to come out of his class he was 'teaching' to bring us to justice.

Josh is a major artist and in the near future I'm honored that he is going to allow me to showcase some of his pieces on RadicalBoulevard. Shout out to all my boys from Chiswick: Josh aka Benz, Igor aka Show, James aka Jams, Juggy aka Juggy Deans, Greg aka Greggy Doubles, and Simon who I seen today and took a portrait of him below rocking a mean neck tattoo. S.V Baby!


1 comment:

messytimbo said...

nice poster, man.

it's good your still in contactwith josh.