be thyself,

“be yo’self,” they said,

“and the world will adjust.”

well ‘they’ obviously never met

‘the world’.






i enjoy



and art.

i’m socially


but looking


a partner

in crime …


wrong site, my bad.




argh, christmas …

i’m more in tune with the grinch than that fat white dude that apparently comes down the chimney to eat your cookies & leave gifts … okay, so if that’s not creepy then i’m not sure what is right!!!

anyway, FB, town, friends houses … are all getting lit with the ‘christmas spirit’ apparently, cos its fucking christmas & this is the time to be all festive & expensive & good vibey & shit …

but i aint doing it this year … @ all.

i announced to the girls i’m not ‘doing christmas’ this year, as set out on the gregorian bullshit calendar. it’s not christs birthday, so what are we celebrating?

this year it’s officially become a celebration of ‘december day’: a day when the mokos papa gets a day off’ve the working bullshit. *insert eyeball roll* it’s some fucked up shit all right.

i’ll leave the rest of my christmas sentiments, right here:

its not my meme. but i like it. wish i had’a thought of it.

oh well …

kpm ©


the silent treatment.

when they think they’re punishing you.




hey. u.

just follow or fuck off.

your following & un-following & following & un-following

is fucking with me counter thingy.

youre as bad was those IG turds.




ensuing commentary

shrink:      so how would you describe yourself, emotionally?

me:        ahhh, bit of a retard

shrink:      oh dear … ah, so we don’t use that word anymore

*resounding silence*

i look up from my now cold coffee cup

me:        whose “we”?

shrink:        well, ‘we’, is our society

*seriously prolonged eeeeeee at the end of society*

duly noted …

me:       well ‘You’ society fuckers have yet to include me in your club so your “we” doesn’t apply to me.          .retard.

*stoney silence as shrink makes notes relating to ‘anti-social behaviour’*

me, in my head:      fuck you cunt. bet “we” don’t use that word either !




wild flowering rebels

when we first moved into this house i had a thing about mowing the lawns: specifically – i didn’t like it. actually i still don’t like it but can ‘endure’ it better than i used too :) that’s to do with the noise of course and secondary to that, the fucking hay fever that comes from the whole grass cutting experience.

have i said i don’t do grass???

any who: in true Me fashion, i look for alternatives to the shit i can’t conventionally handle … i mean sure, i tried the “lets mow some grass and get used to that shit, the noise and the smells and get on with it like everyone else does … lets be normal and shit …”

but why?

so my solution: wildflowers :)

duly noted however, our land agent hasn’t agreed to these and we ‘have’ to mow the lawn before she comes and does a house invasion check … but they grow back like the ‘weeds’ so i’m happy with that.

so … what was i on about?

thats right … slightly bitter sweet considering we’ll have to move soon, but our ‘wildflowers’ have finally taken root and are spreading all through our front lawn.

and i am fucking happy with them.

they make me smile every time i look at them sitting up there looking all beautiful and non-conformist and shit.

(note: we live in a neighbourhood where EVERYONE mows their lawns like its the only thing going on out here … manicured and trimmed fucking grass.

EVERYONE except Us ;) i know right, gangstah as fuck!)

so thought i’d post them for y’all to enjoy too.

your welcome :)

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist



and done.

shits updated.

i feel good about it.

now lets get on with it ay :)




on other peoples blogs / posts / twitter / ig, ‘Fuck’ appears as




f**k (excuse my language).


do they not know how to spell fuck?

thats it. ’twas a joke. IKR.




when you send the partner to the shop cos the chick on the counter thinks he’s awesome, and gives him free stuff.

“utilising the resources”

no photograph here. the words are enough. roll on.



stick it

thinking bout making stickers

to put on the mail box

and front door.

“I have pts(d).

On a good day,

I still bite”

Enter At Thy Own Risk




ball sack??

The other day in town, I noticed this atrocity … funny atrocity … but atrocity none the less. I think they were going for something ‘gang-y’ and ‘edge-y’ … but it ended up looking like the following possibilities:

  1. A deformed foot
  2. A tonsil
  3. One lone ball sack hanging from some humpy things


Tagging, graffiti artists slash learner gang affiliates handbook 101 – a few tips:

  • When your repping a certain ‘mascot’ or representation of something that means life and death to you, in a public place, make sure you do it justice!
  • Just because it sounds edgey doesn’t actually make it edgey. Think that shit through before displaying in a public place.
  • Don’t use your actual name!
  • Practice before you apply the final masterpiece.

By the way – it is supposed to be a fist!

I know right!

kpm ©



a little knowledge.

  1. If you pluck the hairs out of your chin, they grow back.
  2. If you pluck the hairs out of your chin, they grow back thicker.
  3. If you pluck the hairs out of your chin, by the time you hit your 40s, your going to need a hedge trimmer to tidy those bastards up!

Moral of the story ~

1. The hair is supposed to be there; leave it the fuck alone!

2. A hedge trimmer doesn’t work!



b for boredom

They’d whine

‘I’m bored’

Really?, I’d say

And hand them the toilet brush

Not bored now are yah
Little fuckers

kpm ©


trivial shit

you sit there, you queer, not queer, queer


youre wanking on about your shit & how hard your pussy life is


that it bites & it’s not filled with wonderment.

and you wonder “why has the good lord forsaken” your queer ass


and after a thousand tissues, patted hands & comforting nods.

you squeeze out your fake ass last tear drop.

then whine on a little about “whats next for you




Bitch please


i don’t give a rats ass about your wanky issues or your overpriced nails.

i don’t give a fuck about how your children don’t want to talk to you.










note to self:

no more self-help groups.

they are not helpful.

for the self.

thats all.