strawdogs

and now for my next trick

pretty standard, really

leave a comment »

The details of my life are quite inconsequential … Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a 15-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize; he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes, he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament … My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon … luge lessons … In the spring, we’d make meat helmets … When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds — pretty standard, really. At the age of 12, I received my first scribe. At the age of 14, a Zoroastrian named Vilmer ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum — it’s breathtaking … I suggest you try it.

Dr Evil

Advertisements

Written by Peter Rudd

July 15, 2012 at 4:31 pm

Posted in film

Tagged with ,

discretion is the better part of valour

leave a comment »

From This Isn’t Happiness

 

Written by Peter Rudd

May 11, 2012 at 9:35 pm

Posted in strawdogs

Tagged with ,

commie superman

leave a comment »

Written by Peter Rudd

May 10, 2012 at 11:55 pm

Posted in strawdogs

Tagged with

whiskers

with one comment

Written by Peter Rudd

April 25, 2012 at 10:03 pm

mars attacks!

leave a comment »

Written by Peter Rudd

April 2, 2012 at 12:22 am

Posted in art, film, things

Tagged with , ,

once upon a time

leave a comment »

Written by Peter Rudd

February 12, 2012 at 8:46 pm

Posted in art

Tagged with , ,

batman in numbers

leave a comment »

Written by Peter Rudd

February 12, 2012 at 8:44 pm

Posted in art

Tagged with ,