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Written by Darren Esp
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Saturday, 05 June 2010 00:00 |
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 It's been almost an entire year since we started the Man's Man's Man feature. There have been some controversial choices along the way and a lot of rubbing of heads trying to work out who should be next. But there was never a shadow of a doubt that the following gent would make the list. In fact he was the very first one we thought of, but we've been saving the best until last. As you know the criteria by which the Man's Man's Men are selected is not as obvious as one might expect and although all of our previous nominees have ticked all the boxes, this our final Man's Man's Man takes those boxes, folds them up and puts them in his pocket and saunters off with them, probably to a lavish casino or something.
Yes when the concept of Man's Man's Man came into being this was the guy we were thinking of, the top dog, the A number 1. the king of men (sadly no longer with us), he lit up the silver screen and the racetrack alike, yes none other than Steve McQueen...
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Written by Darren Esp
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Monday, 08 November 2010 13:31 |
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 As you may have noticed things have been a bit quiet here on braingunk for the last few weeks, that's because yours truly has been taking a bit of a break and working on a new project.
One a day for thirty days, doesn’t sound too tricky does it? And it didn't to me either when I set myself the challenge to learn to become a competent photographer in just one month.
I've never owned a real camera before, sure I had a Polaroid when I was a kid and sure I've had the odd compact digital jobbie for no particular reason and without particular motivation, but I've never owned what I'd call a 'serious camera'. That was until an old friend decided to upgrade to a new camera and sell his old one to me...
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Written by Graeme Puttock
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Thursday, 14 October 2010 12:43 |
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Our zombie moved in on a Sunday, sometime between 3 and 4pm. I'd been out doing some shopping at Asda – fighting the usual queues - and the zombie was there when I came back.
I say zombie - that's not the right name for it; I don't know what it is really called. It was dressed not unfashionably, but looking a bit shabby. I guess it must have been dead - there was a faint whiff of decay about it, not unlike a stuffed animal; and it made no effort to communicate, not even responding to external stimulus (I tried surreptitiously poking it with a knife once – it went in quite deeply between the ribs).
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