broken balls, exposed balls: cycle practice goes wrong

Hello testicles!

It's been a strange few weeks for the Zezaurian Cycling Dept. and things have been getting pretty painful out on the busy roads of London's Famous London. I'm struggling to keep up with the number of accidents people keep getting themselves into, but let's take look at some of my favourites ever since we said we'd do that silly race around Battersea Park.

1. "Invisible Stack"

Is there anything in life better than seeing Tim Howard hit an "invisible obstacle" in the middle of a busy road and camply flying over his handlebars, crashing face first into the tarmac like a rubbish twat? I've been playing that one on repeat in my head for weeks.

Total distance covered: 2.3 metres
Total time: 0.7 seconds
Shame level: getting caught out with an erection in maths class
Pain level: advanced vaginal thrush

2. "Stationary Stack"

Oh, the sweet, sweet shame of stacking it so comprehensively on your bicycle whilst going a whopping 2 miles-per-hour on one of the busiest streets in London. My dear friend, Tom, what the fuck happened? I think the bit that made us wee ourselves with laughter the most was the fact that you had foolishly hung a 4kg bike lock around your neck, ensuring a swift uppercut to your beautiful nose moments before you slumped to the ground. Thank you so much for this gift to us.

Total distance covered: 0.5 metres
Total time: (including the street of people laughing at you) 4 days, 17 hours
Shame level: soiling your pants in maths class
Pain level: the same as getting dumped by this.

3. "Riding to Brighton"

Drib Drab and Mr Morose did it last year, so why couldn't they do it this year?

Mr Morose: "C'mon ya handsome devil, let'sh ride to Brighton."

Drib Drab: "I dunno, man. It's, like, 5am and I'm pretty wasted."

Mr Morose: "Sho? What are you? A cock or a fanny?"

Drib Drab: "...I'm a massive, massive cock."

Ten minutes later Mr Morose was lying in the middle of the road mumbling about the bleeping sounds in his head (a pedestrian crossing). Ten minutes after that he was lying in the middle of the road again holding his ball-bag and asking why anyone in their right mind would stick a fucking illuminous bollard in the middle of an intersection. Brighton remained a long, long way away.

Total distance covered: 3.1km
Total time: 34 minutes
Shame level: soiling your pants and getting an erection about it in maths class
Pain level: listening to Mr Morose talk about his hobbies

4. "Balls out"

Special Brew and Ouzo are a pleasant mix, right? So much so, they make boys strip to their cock and balls and ride down what is perhaps the most densely packed road in London on a Saturday night and head home wondering how they're going to retrieve their penises from inside their stomachs. They should call this homoerotic game "Shrimp Saddle".

I think some of the naked riders were imagining that all the girls would whoop and throw their knickers at them, but all that really happened was that people shouted "fucking queer homo gays" and spat on their backs. Nice work revellers!

Total distance covered: 1km
Total time: 12 awful minutes
Shame level: telling people that you thought Terminator Salvation was a "pretty good" film
Pain level: sitting through all 115 minutes of Terminator Salvation


See you on the 11th,

Miss Vacant Eyes


Zezaurian Summer Cycle Race

UPDATE: We've moved this to 11 July, Battersea Park – first race 1pm.

Three fast-as-you-can laps dodging orange-faced rich people walking their cats on velvet leashes. I can’t think of anything more fun than that. If your bike has gears, then you must pick one and stick with it as there are lots of fixed gear poser types competing, so we're insisting on one gear for everyone.

6 riders per race, 4 stages. Frolicking by the river afterwards and Northern Soul from 10pm-4am.

The winner gets a Zezaurian Headband - the hip new look for the summer.


Miss Vacant Eyes

Four Days of Pain

***Updated because two of the people in these pictures are hot-shot lawyers and pulled a bed-wetting strop about it***

I Just spent four very long days exhausting myself with some nice rich people in what was, I think, the Land of Narnia. It was more fun than I've had in the last four years combined, despite being told that Narnia is shit-hole because it's full of Christians and paedophiles.

On one day I jumped off the top of a waterfall so high that all the skin was ripped off my shins from hitting the water so hard. I was also shot in the face, left kidney, buttocks, hands and shoulder by a real-life marine, fresh from Afghanistan, in a game of underpants-only paintball. Joy.


I found this on the kitchen table of my cottage one morning. It was the only black person I saw in the country side. Her name was Sammy.


This man came into my room every night and took the covers from me. He also made me answer questions such as: "Who would you rather skin alive and eat, your mum or your dad? If you say your dad, you're a gay."


This is me wishing that I'd laid off all the free stuff they gave out.


I know this looks kinda racist, but that was just a slug that I found and everyone was saying, "do something hilarious with it". The little fucker excreted this horrible jelly that took over an hour to fully remove. (Side note: slugs don't smell of anything.)


My friend Tom took this picture. Seriously, how fucking shit can you make an image? Ooh, ooh, look, it's like we're in a saloon bar in the wild west. What a fucking drip. The worst part is, when he reads this he'll get all moody because he'll actually think it's a "good picture". When I took this off the camera it was one of eleven shots of the same thing - this being the only one in focus. Some days I hate Tom.


This is Tom. Ladies, he's single and has these big square man-boob things because he works out the whole time and drinks four litres of milk a day. He's got the personality of cancer though.


It's hard to tell from just looking at this picture, but that speaker was playing Hiretsukan at full-fucking-whack and it was such a great moment I thought I should capture it on film and post it on the Internet.


This guy was called Henry. He was so chilled out and confident about his life that he slept like that all afternoon and all evening whilst everyone else got fucked up. I kept laughing saying that we should draw on his face and burn his pubes off, but everyone else just shrugged their shoulders and said that Tupac wouldn't do that, so maybe we shouldn't either.