Monday, 22 October 2012


Hello there.

My name is Alex Johnson and today i want to talk to you about "YES TRANSPORTER,HORSE BOX AND OTHER FASCINATING DEVELOPMENTS IN ON ROAD GAMING" These "laws of the road" that are taking the non anarchic punk rock community by storm.

YES TRANSPORTER entered the world as we know it on a mild june day in 2009,In Wales.
Founding father Frank Bingham was driving his Audi car with girlfriend Polly in the passenger seat.

"Yes Transporter!"announced Frank upon spotting a Voltswagon Transporter van.
Polly smiled.
The legend was born.

Here's how you play:


Yes transporter can be played anywhere.It can be played on your own,as a team or with multiple players,pitting their wits against one another in what is quickly becoming the greatest motorway game of all time.

The rules are simple.

Spot a VW Transporter van?
Then state quickly and clearly in a loud voice,

Bang! you've just got your 1st YES Transporter.

A proud moment for all. Feeling smug?
Just try wiping off that smile.


Yes people,"Yes Transporter" is that good.

BUT,don't get too cocky. Yes Transporter has a "catch".

Call a "Yes Transporter" to a parked Transporter or (god forbid) another make of " van" and "Shame on you",you've played a "Foul".And how does it feel?


Need i say more?

But remember,it's just for fun.

But the world moves on and so has "Yes Transporter,the Law of the road"


We live in a world that never sleeps,a world that never ceased to throw up new wonders and sights.

And when different "Non Anarchic Punk Rock clans" meet,there's sure to be FIREWORKS!

Duncan Redmonds is the leader of one of these "Non Anarchic Punk Rock Clans".

When i 1st came across Duncan i was absolutely fascinated to hear his alternative "Laws of the Motorway".

We were driving to Derby as part of his "Non anarchic Punk rock/Morris Dance clan","The 5 Shitty Fingers" when out of the blue he trumpeted "HORSE BOX"!

Something stirred deep within.Could it be possible that he too had devised some sort of primitive "Eye Spy" game to while away the miles?


Good grief we all thought.Duncan's having a moment.

And he was,but it was a regulated moment and all part of the fantastic new game that's taking the highs and byways of England by storm.

Play "HORSEBOX" today and feel part of the herd.

Here's the rules:

Like "Yes Transporter" it is played on a journey. Unlike yes Transporter,there is a clear "Winner",so is likely to appeal to the more traditionally masculine amongst us in the "Non anarchic punk rock community"

Like "Yes transporter","Horsebox" is bellowed with excitement at the sighting of a horsebox.

Well done.You've had ya 1st.Enjoy the feeling.Pride isn't a bad thing.
In moderation.

Horsebox is a gentlemans game.

Don't be surprised to be patted on the shoulder by your friends.

So who's the "Winner"?

Well,Horsebox isn't about how many you see.

A stationary horsebox can still be called.

The noble horsebox in a muddy paddock is worth no more than the overturned horsebox causing a traffic jam.

So who wins, you'll be asking yourself?

The answer is simple.

The last horsebox spotted on your journey is the winner and the envy of your traveling companions.

Fuckin Banging.


Call a cattle trailer?

Call a sheep trolley?


Yes.The penalty is severe.

your family is "SHAMED".

You won't find Redmonds calling a "Foul" Horsebox.

He wouldn't put his nearest and dearest through the "SHAME".

And it won't be forgotten in a hurry.I'm frequently called "SHITTERMOUTH" by my band mates when a cattle truck is spotted.

Yes,i called a fake horsebox.

I won't be taking those kind of risks again.

A Horsebox risk taker is known as a "Shittermouth".

An unpleasant term to describe someone who has "shit"quite literally in his or her mouth.

Trust me.Those risks aint worth taking.

Let's move on.

I appreciate that a fair few of you would of been put through ones paces with the last chapter.
I was left breathless writing it.But we are realists.We accept that life has it's ups and downs."Horsebox" mirrors life and so through horsebox,one comes close to death too.
Having friends call you "Shittermouth" is no picnic.
Survival of the fittest.
Life is no picnic.

"BOG VAN" however is a win win winner for all and sundry.
Bog van is a wooded glade compared to "horsebox".
A bog van spotted is a bog van spotted for all!
What is a "Bog Van"?

A bog van is a portable lavatory on the back of a trailer or on a flatbed lorry or truck.
On spying a "Bog van",one declares in a light hearted tone "BOG VAN" whence you turn to see your friends all smiling at you and admiring your dicovery.
Suddenly you are everyones favourite traveller.The "hunter gatherer" of the vehicle.
Well done.We're proud of you.And YOU should be proud of yourself.


Here are some more prizes to be found on your journey,but rememeber,LOOK OUT FOR THE PENALTY CLAUSES!

"MANOWAR" The noble Manowar is a house on the back of a lorry.
Not to be confused with a "Bogner Regis(caravan)".The "Manowar" is the sort of home found in a trailer park.A caravan without the mobility option so to speak.
They tend to hang out over the side of a flatbed lorry causing long tailbacks on smaller roads.

GOOBER PATROL"A canoe on a roof rack.(be don't want to call a "Goober patrol"only to discover to your dismay and your fellow travellers disgust that it is in fact a kayak.Oh the "SHAME".

VANILLA POD:A mattress tied to the roof of a vehicle.
The Vanilla Pod is the Crown jewels of the motoring gamer.The most precious, rare sighting to be found in all of England
Crime doesn’t pay.
Don't be tempted to "Fake" a Vanilla Pod.
My betrayal of fellow game players and it’s subsequent discover has resulted in the labelling of my family “Traitor Judus Betrayers”
Oh the shame.

JOY DIVISION:A black taxi(but outside the M25)

LUTHER VANDROSS: A fast food burger van

SLAYER: Very rare with only ever one reported siting since its conception, the elusive Slayer is a dog sticking its nose out of the window of a vehicle.

SIGUE SIGUE SPUTNIK: Bicycles attached to vehicle.Very common so not often included in games but good for beginners.

Honey Wagon: The vehicle and pump that cleans portable bogs.

Bognor Regis: A caravan. Again,too common for serious play but good for beginners.

Pete Townsend: A black Volkswagon Lupo. (rarer than you would think)

WANKER: a Porsche.
On calling a "wanker" the other players have to shout "WANKER" Too. Forget to shout "wanker" and YOU become a WANKER.

A convertible sports car(with the hood down).The original "TOTAL CUNT MOUTH" was only "called" out of season,ie outside the Summer months of June/July.After a short debate and unanimous verdict it was decided that anyone with a convertable was a "Total Cunt Mouth"
On seeing a "Total Cunt Mouth",the "Spotter" must call "total Cunt mouth" but in the style of Masterchef legend Greg Wallace.
Players then have to poor scorn on the Convertable by screaming "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGH"Anyone not "Arrrrrrrrrghing"becomes a "Total Cunt mouth"


He’s where the self appointed Dungeon Master’s part comes in.
The "DUNGEON MASTER" nominates a single lucky player to mutter “Shitter” under his breath,(also in the style of Masterchef legend Greg Wallace.


Thursday, 18 October 2012


my teenage.
I kick office doors through on my walk home to my Carnaby street basement.
Boot the locks through.
I sleep in alley ways,naked but for shorts in Summertime.
My shoes fuck knows get lost.
I get carried home from the Brain,the Wag after smoking hash.
I see the room falling away.
I can't lift my head.
I sleep where i fall.Always.
I wake on Sunday mornings.
Without keys and money.
On brick paving.
I wake to brick paving.
Piss Alleys.
I wake on cardboard.baking sun beating down on my death thirst.
Next to real tramps and rats.
To tourists staring.
I wake the landlords and pub managers for a tenner to see me through.
Pubs shut on Sundays.
I am 17


I stand on the frontline but i am beyond danger.
To my right are West Germany,to my left the England.
Back and forth the charges go,missiles sailing above.
The Germans have the Skakespears Head to ransask,the England have the postcard stands and window displays.
And i stand there smoking.
Watching the unfortunates take it on the ground at my feet.
A mass game of Kabbadi right there on the brick pavers.
I am beyond your violence.
I have no fear.
You see my face.
I am a fuckin cunt with a skinhead and i cannot be harmed.
You glasses bounce off me like cherry blossom.


I throw snowballs at the business man walking home through Green park.
innocent beautiful snow peace and me a horrible fuckin rat cunt.
He sees me
sizing him up.
Menace with a fuckin snow ball.
Who is this fuckin freak throwing snow balls at me?
Why does he stand there throwing fuckin snowballs at me.
Why doesn't he moves.
But i just block his path and throw at him.
And then he's on me,
trying to put me over.
and i laugh.
Give a shit mate.
Give a fuckin shit.


It's a funny old place when you arrive.
All the old issues of being desperate disappear.
The ultimate freedom.
Law has no hold,money has no appeal,guilt is nothing,fear is nothing,pain is nothing.
It's end of hunger.the end of craving.
It's the place of the lawless.The freedom of the lawless.
You are the day.
As you please ,as you want.
Nothing matters.
Nothing touches the sides.
Who fucking cares.
I don't.


She is at her desk all peace and calm but for the groans of the recently removed,transplanted,bypassed.
The rattle wheeze of ventilators and sobs.
Clarity warm,calm and clear.
Wobble leg opiate clarity calm.
To stop the shakes.A secret peace in the dead of night.
Peace amongst the desperate.
Peace in the last chance saloon.
and i feel like a fuckin fraud.


So then i'm on the train.
From routing round the parents suburban home for money when the call came.
The surgeon for me?
Mr Cameron
But i'm not supposed to be here?
God works his magic somehow.
They have a bed.
And my arteries are to be fixed
My drowning is to be stopped.
The internal bleeding
after i've been killing myself the past 72.
Trying to die for the pain i've created for everyone.for years forever.
i hold myself on this train.
I am white and nothing
the light on my face doesn't touch me.
I can't speak
i speak my name,i am here.
I am as light a a feather.
And then they are jamming the drip into my hand.
Crunching on tendon.
Pain and real and blood sprays out.
Old as a fucking shipwreck.
Trudging to my bed.Hospital bed,White and clean.
And all that horror that surrounds me doesn't touch the void.


And every part of me,every atom is scared.
I need to be held, to be loved.
I need my life to not be this.
this hell
I need release,to be fixed.
Take me God.
Remove me.
Hold me.
Spinning around this fuckin world.
Sky above.
Fucking remove me from this,
Hold me.

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Chicken and cheeseburgers

My girl Aoife writes a food blog called the Gannet.
She loves all things food.
Up until i met her i didn't give a monkeys about food.
I had lived on a diet of cheese and Marmite and chilli and if i was feeling indulgent then i'd add pesto too.
But this aint about me.
Coz of her love of food,we get to go check out all the latest cool eating spots.
She loves all that street food stuff that is currently all the rage.
don't we all love burgers and hot dogs.
Let me say this.
There's this place up the road from Kentish town,heading up towards gospel oak.It's this poncey posh pizza place BUT,behind it in a shack next to the LA Fitness carpark is definitely one of the best (if not the best) cheeseburgers you'll get in London.(i personally prefer it to Meat Liquor,London's official best burger spot)
Place is called Dirty Burger.
They sell cheeseburgers,crinkly retro chips and onion ring type fries.Also coffee with free refills.
They aint "In and Out burger" (a Californian burger chain and the best in the whole world) but they are very very good.Refreshingly,surprisingly good if you aint used to a good burger yet.
Why am i writing about burgers?
Since when did i care?
Well,last night i went to the Chicken shop they have now opened in the basement (Dirty Burger and Chicken Shop are owned by the poncey pizza place).
If you like Nandos then you will literally be killed by this place.
Ok,their menu.
They sell rotisserie chicken (which is cooked over massive grills in front of you),fries,coleslaw and corn on the cob.
When they brought over my corn,the chick asked if i wanted more butter.
Obviously my darling so check this yeah she then poured from a jug loads of amazing melted butter and herbs all over! Hooray.
We ordered a whole chicken,fries,slaw (yum) and corn.
On the table is a wicked hot sauce which reminded me of Encona mixed with something sweet.It tastes great.They also have like a smokey sauce which has a chipotle taste without the heat.
I'm telling ya.
this meal was a complete joy.
I really mean that.
If you take a girl on a date to either one of these places,
you will get laid!
It's an amazing dining spot.
2 of the best places to eat in London under one roof.
Dirty burger is small.There's a few bench seats round the side and space for about 8 in the middle.But it's a burger.I ate mine in the street on some steps.It felt pretty romantic actually.
Chicken shop has seats a plenty but is still pretty imformal.
The service was fast and great.
These poncey pizza bastards have proper nailed it!
It's all very exiting!