Replica Magazine Issue X

REPLICA MAGAZINE Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this magazine are those of the contributors and are not necessarily shared by Replica Magazine or Global Tat Productions. No responsibility is assumed by Replica Magazine or Global Tat Productions for damage or offense caused by any of the content contained in the material herein. Neither Replica Magazine or Global Tat Productions can be held responsible for breach of copyright arising from any material supplied in good faith. The terms and conditions for contributions are available on our website.

Issue X The Health & Safety Issue

I

Help the Aged So Replica is now officially old and wise.

Double figures and no cosmetic surgery necessary.

It has just begun to snow, Christmas is one week away and the festive cheer is overwhelming.

Merry Christmas everyone. But please heed all the health warnings this year and watch your cholesterol. The government would be devastated if you were to get too fat to work and start feeding off our benefit system like the nasty little parasites you are. And don’t think you can just sneak outside to stuff down that last remaining mince pie because the

This magazine is a compilation of articles, artwork, photos and other bits and pieces sent in by its readers. Anyone can contribute: contributions@replicamag.co.uk Try to keep articles under 800 words.

The next issue is out on 18/02/10.

The theme is Pornography. All submissions must be received by 08/02/10 to be considered for inclusion.

Cover: ‘10’ by Rachel Fagiolo Left: picture by Benedita Feijo www.interactcreative.com

chances are you will be caught on CCTV and the fat police will be round in a jiffy to confiscate all edible items from your house, including the dog food and your pet fish.

It looks like there is to be no escape from the excessive molly coddling we are increasingly exposed to. I propose we all eat dirt pills and lard burgers, never wash our hands after going to the loo and run with scissors.

That should show them.

Rosie Allen-Jones, Editor

Replica Magazine Global Tat Productions Chief Custodian Thomas Foxley thebrains@replicamag.co.uk Editor Rosie Allen-Jones editor@replicamag.co.uk Illustrations Chris Getliffe www.getliffe.com www.replicamag.co.uk

I

Help the Aged So Replica is now officially old and wise.

Double figures and no cosmetic surgery necessary.

It has just begun to snow, Christmas is one week away and the festive cheer is overwhelming.

Merry Christmas everyone. But please heed all the health warnings this year and watch your cholesterol. The government would be devastated if you were to get too fat to work and start feeding off our benefit system like the nasty little parasites you are. And don’t think you can just sneak outside to stuff down that last remaining mince pie because the

This magazine is a compilation of articles, artwork, photos and other bits and pieces sent in by its readers. Anyone can contribute: contributions@replicamag.co.uk Try to keep articles under 800 words.

The next issue is out on 18/02/10.

The theme is Pornography. All submissions must be received by 08/02/10 to be considered for inclusion.

Cover: ‘10’ by Rachel Fagiolo Left: picture by Benedita Feijo www.interactcreative.com

chances are you will be caught on CCTV and the fat police will be round in a jiffy to confiscate all edible items from your house, including the dog food and your pet fish.

It looks like there is to be no escape from the excessive molly coddling we are increasingly exposed to. I propose we all eat dirt pills and lard burgers, never wash our hands after going to the loo and run with scissors.

That should show them.

Rosie Allen-Jones, Editor

Replica Magazine Global Tat Productions Chief Custodian Thomas Foxley thebrains@replicamag.co.uk Editor Rosie Allen-Jones editor@replicamag.co.uk Illustrations Chris Getliffe www.getliffe.com www.replicamag.co.uk

III NEXT ISSUE’S THEME: Table of Contents 100% of Your Compensation by Niall O’Riain............................................................. IV Phone injury lawyers today Me, You and… Health and Safety? by Rhiannon Hunter…………………….............VIII More than rules and regulations?

How to Play ‘Cool-Hand Sam’ by Simon Hopper......................................................... X ‘A game that I made up’ Brine Tasting by Rob Bohne and Daniel Yelland…..……………................................ XII Daniel Yelland talks us through some fine brines Tube by Krishan Nursimooloo............................................................................................ XVIII Poem Health and Safety Manual. by Madam Moleham........................................................ XX Tick all boxes before engaging in casual sex Bee Story by Matthew Feldman….................................................................................... XXII Another weird cartoon I Nearly Died! Or Beware Courier, Beware! by Simon Hopper……….................. XXIV Song No Title by James Kennedy.................................................................................................. XXVI Happy is healthy Resuscitate Me Annie by Olivia Patt................................................................................. XXVIII Love letter

PORNOGRAPHY ARTWORK AND ARTICLES PLEASE DEADLINE 16/11/09 Full image is available online here (PDF magazine only)

Stealth and Hefty. by Barry Ward...................................................................................... XXXXVIII Short story (we think) The Angel by William Cox..................................................................................................... XXXXXIV A creative piece, sent in via text message

III NEXT ISSUE’S THEME: Table of Contents 100% of Your Compensation by Niall O’Riain............................................................. IV Phone injury lawyers today Me, You and… Health and Safety? by Rhiannon Hunter…………………….............VIII More than rules and regulations?

How to Play ‘Cool-Hand Sam’ by Simon Hopper......................................................... X ‘A game that I made up’ Brine Tasting by Rob Bohne and Daniel Yelland…..……………................................ XII Daniel Yelland talks us through some fine brines Tube by Krishan Nursimooloo............................................................................................ XVIII Poem Health and Safety Manual. by Madam Moleham........................................................ XX Tick all boxes before engaging in casual sex Bee Story by Matthew Feldman….................................................................................... XXII Another weird cartoon I Nearly Died! Or Beware Courier, Beware! by Simon Hopper……….................. XXIV Song No Title by James Kennedy.................................................................................................. XXVI Happy is healthy Resuscitate Me Annie by Olivia Patt................................................................................. XXVIII Love letter

PORNOGRAPHY ARTWORK AND ARTICLES PLEASE DEADLINE 16/11/09 Full image is available online here (PDF magazine only)

Stealth and Hefty. by Barry Ward...................................................................................... XXXXVIII Short story (we think) The Angel by William Cox..................................................................................................... XXXXXIV A creative piece, sent in via text message

IV

V

100% of Your Compensation Capitalise on your injuries by Niall O’Riain You will receive one hundred percent of the compensation, when you phone ‘Generic Accident Lawyers Helpline.’

Have you had an accident at work? Did you slip on a wet surface when there was no sign? Were you lifting heavy boxes without the proper training? Did you use equipment without the necessary certification? Did you bump into something that shouldn’t have been there? Did you become upset after grazing yourself on a rougher than average surface?

Then call us and talk to an injury lawyer right away and we will sue your company for remuneration equivalent to the distress that has been caused you.

After your workplace has been sued it will change its health and safety

guidelines so that no wet surface ever exists without a plastic yellow sign.

Other signs will follow, not permitting certain behaviour or entry to certain places as more aspects are subjected to litigation. Increasingly you will not be able to move around your building in case you are confronted with a situation for which your company is liable.

You will not be able to try out new equipment or use your initiative or run when something needs to be done urgently. You will not be able to learn how to use the stapler without a training course in case you staple your eyelid to your eyebrow and sue the company. You will not be free to make your own mistakes and learn from your own experiences because they will be covered and hidden from you. You will not be able to learn that a shiny patch

on a smooth floor requires a more delicate level of balance. You will not train yourself to be observant, to notice the cleaning bucket or the distant whistle of the cleaner. You will rely on the plastic yellow notice. You will not learn that sometimes those shoes are not appropriate. You will never need grip or know the feel of the ground through your soles because you follow the walkway and don’t walk on the grass, stop at the red light, keep to the left, hold onto the rail, mind the gap.

The world herds you through corridors and the fine tendrils of your senses, intricately nurtured over millennia, wither and withdraw like dry bracken at the fire. Your children learn by watching videos and animated representations of reality in their litigation-kerbed lessons. Your child will

never be taken to the forest or a capital city or the sea but will sit in safe clean rooms looking at pictures of them, next to cupboards of unused rusting equipment that no teacher dares use again. Then one day when you have lost the connection with the rough, slippery, brittle, sharp, rigid, bending, biological, chemical, physical world and your right to damage yourself and learn from your bruises and your blood and your stomach is gone. When the sensory deprivation has numbed you until the reality of a wild earth freezes your heart with fear and you long for the incessant audio messages and visual instructions that you can no longer function without, then you can sit on your Kitemark furniture in your flame retardant clothes in your surveyor-authorised house and clutch one hundred percent of your compensation.

IV

V

100% of Your Compensation Capitalise on your injuries by Niall O’Riain You will receive one hundred percent of the compensation, when you phone ‘Generic Accident Lawyers Helpline.’

Have you had an accident at work? Did you slip on a wet surface when there was no sign? Were you lifting heavy boxes without the proper training? Did you use equipment without the necessary certification? Did you bump into something that shouldn’t have been there? Did you become upset after grazing yourself on a rougher than average surface?

Then call us and talk to an injury lawyer right away and we will sue your company for remuneration equivalent to the distress that has been caused you.

After your workplace has been sued it will change its health and safety

guidelines so that no wet surface ever exists without a plastic yellow sign.

Other signs will follow, not permitting certain behaviour or entry to certain places as more aspects are subjected to litigation. Increasingly you will not be able to move around your building in case you are confronted with a situation for which your company is liable.

You will not be able to try out new equipment or use your initiative or run when something needs to be done urgently. You will not be able to learn how to use the stapler without a training course in case you staple your eyelid to your eyebrow and sue the company. You will not be free to make your own mistakes and learn from your own experiences because they will be covered and hidden from you. You will not be able to learn that a shiny patch

on a smooth floor requires a more delicate level of balance. You will not train yourself to be observant, to notice the cleaning bucket or the distant whistle of the cleaner. You will rely on the plastic yellow notice. You will not learn that sometimes those shoes are not appropriate. You will never need grip or know the feel of the ground through your soles because you follow the walkway and don’t walk on the grass, stop at the red light, keep to the left, hold onto the rail, mind the gap.

The world herds you through corridors and the fine tendrils of your senses, intricately nurtured over millennia, wither and withdraw like dry bracken at the fire. Your children learn by watching videos and animated representations of reality in their litigation-kerbed lessons. Your child will

never be taken to the forest or a capital city or the sea but will sit in safe clean rooms looking at pictures of them, next to cupboards of unused rusting equipment that no teacher dares use again. Then one day when you have lost the connection with the rough, slippery, brittle, sharp, rigid, bending, biological, chemical, physical world and your right to damage yourself and learn from your bruises and your blood and your stomach is gone. When the sensory deprivation has numbed you until the reality of a wild earth freezes your heart with fear and you long for the incessant audio messages and visual instructions that you can no longer function without, then you can sit on your Kitemark furniture in your flame retardant clothes in your surveyor-authorised house and clutch one hundred percent of your compensation.

Inbox (3) Here is a selection of some of the shit our webmail has to deal with…

Dear Replica, On my travels around Canada I stayed in a place called Dildo. Hahahahaha I thought but I was by myself and the locals didn’t seem to get it. There was no reception on my cell so I couldn’t call anyone and by the time I could the funniness had worn off. I found this

picture on Wikipedia and it all came flooding back to me. Hahahahahaha.

You get it, right? Dildo, like a dildo for your vag? It’s funny because it’s the name of a town. In Canada. Canadians are thick.

Yours, Julia Redgrave, CA Dildo is in Newfoundland, Caneda

Dear Replica, As we all know health and safety is probably the most important thing in the world. The whole world. Clever

usage of yellow v-shaped signs make things safer, and therefore better.

Thank you.

David Ashley-Cowan Health and Safety Life Marshall

Dear Replica, I saw this picture (right) when I was filling up in a petrol station. Now I have a lot of respect for the police and

the tough job they have but I can’t help but feel that sometimes they treat us like idiots.

Fondest regards, Dr. Roger Smith

Dildo Image by J C Murphy, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 License

Crime is bad for your health

Inbox (3) Here is a selection of some of the shit our webmail has to deal with…

Dear Replica, On my travels around Canada I stayed in a place called Dildo. Hahahahaha I thought but I was by myself and the locals didn’t seem to get it. There was no reception on my cell so I couldn’t call anyone and by the time I could the funniness had worn off. I found this

picture on Wikipedia and it all came flooding back to me. Hahahahahaha.

You get it, right? Dildo, like a dildo for your vag? It’s funny because it’s the name of a town. In Canada. Canadians are thick.

Yours, Julia Redgrave, CA Dildo is in Newfoundland, Caneda

Dear Replica, As we all know health and safety is probably the most important thing in the world. The whole world. Clever

usage of yellow v-shaped signs make things safer, and therefore better.

Thank you.

David Ashley-Cowan Health and Safety Life Marshall

Dear Replica, I saw this picture (right) when I was filling up in a petrol station. Now I have a lot of respect for the police and

the tough job they have but I can’t help but feel that sometimes they treat us like idiots.

Fondest regards, Dr. Roger Smith

Dildo Image by J C Murphy, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 License

Crime is bad for your health

VIII

Me, You and...

Health & Safety?

Rhiannon Hunter argues that there is more to health than hardhats and hand washing

IX

We are bombarded daily with a torrent of health and safety notices, guidance, and advice on how we should do ‘this’ or don’t do ‘that’ because it will be detrimental to our health and wellbeing. Health and safety is tinged with forebodings of insurance claims, suing cases, and a tick box exercise in managerial paper shuffling.

Is there a jollier side to this tiresome and overused dictum? Can these three beautifully rendered words hold any true relevance to our personal welfare? Perhaps more to the point what the gubbins does health and safety actually mean?

In the 1930’s a group of visionary biologists, medics and researchers set out to ‘discover the nature of positive health and the conditions in which it will flourish’. 1 The centre named the Pioneer Health Centre2 was the first of its kind. An experiment unveiled into what health was and how it could be obtained, monitored, and passed on from one 1 A.

to another. Far from today’s cries of ‘eat five a day’ and ‘be treat wise’, the Peckham Experiment was an all-inclusive social phenomenon. The centre was something ‘blazingly new’3 while having the re-assurance of the familiar. ‘Health’ could not be obtained from do-it-yourself manuals, silent slogs on the treadmill, or rigorous basket filling at the supermarket. Instead the centre, by design encouraged a sense of communal living, sharing and amalgamation of individual units to create a whole.

Questions of how people could fulfil their full capability, ‘foster real and lasting freedom, individuality, responsibility and creativity’ existed.

Health was not synonymous with sickness as we liken it today, with ‘health service’, ‘mental health’, ‘health authorities’. It was as much about establishing the conditions for the realisation of joy, then being free from ailment.

The centre provided tennis classes, a swimming pool, weekly evening

dances, a crèche and childcare information for expectant mothers.

Scrupulous notes on members’ fitness, physical state and attendance were gathered for research.

Everything from the open-plan style architecture to the family consultation was designed to allow mutual respect and fluid movement.

The experiment is pertinent of it’s time with ideas of utopia, communication and the development of a super race being widely pondered. Today there is talk of a ‘nanny state’, of diminishing community spirit and predictions of a national health catastrophe. When the collection of personal information and identity laundering is big business, we may be dubious of some of the Pioneer Centre’s founding basis. However regarding health as a positive product of quality, and our shared environment seems apt.

Perhaps health and safety is less about ‘me’ and ‘you’ but ‘we’. Could health and safety be an optimistic component of a shared responsibility and ethos?

Stallibrass, Being Me and Also Us- lessons from the Peckham Experiment, [1989], Scottish Academic Press, Edinburgh The Pioneer Centre was located in Peckham, St. Mary’s Road, South London. It opened in May 1935. George Scott Williamson and Innes Pearse were medics with in the founding group.

3 L. Berg, Being Me and Also Us-lessons from the Peckham Experiment, [1989], Scottish Academic Press, Edinburgh 2

VIII

Me, You and...

Health & Safety?

Rhiannon Hunter argues that there is more to health than hardhats and hand washing

IX

We are bombarded daily with a torrent of health and safety notices, guidance, and advice on how we should do ‘this’ or don’t do ‘that’ because it will be detrimental to our health and wellbeing. Health and safety is tinged with forebodings of insurance claims, suing cases, and a tick box exercise in managerial paper shuffling.

Is there a jollier side to this tiresome and overused dictum? Can these three beautifully rendered words hold any true relevance to our personal welfare? Perhaps more to the point what the gubbins does health and safety actually mean?

In the 1930’s a group of visionary biologists, medics and researchers set out to ‘discover the nature of positive health and the conditions in which it will flourish’. 1 The centre named the Pioneer Health Centre2 was the first of its kind. An experiment unveiled into what health was and how it could be obtained, monitored, and passed on from one 1 A.

to another. Far from today’s cries of ‘eat five a day’ and ‘be treat wise’, the Peckham Experiment was an all-inclusive social phenomenon. The centre was something ‘blazingly new’3 while having the re-assurance of the familiar. ‘Health’ could not be obtained from do-it-yourself manuals, silent slogs on the treadmill, or rigorous basket filling at the supermarket. Instead the centre, by design encouraged a sense of communal living, sharing and amalgamation of individual units to create a whole.

Questions of how people could fulfil their full capability, ‘foster real and lasting freedom, individuality, responsibility and creativity’ existed.

Health was not synonymous with sickness as we liken it today, with ‘health service’, ‘mental health’, ‘health authorities’. It was as much about establishing the conditions for the realisation of joy, then being free from ailment.

The centre provided tennis classes, a swimming pool, weekly evening

dances, a crèche and childcare information for expectant mothers.

Scrupulous notes on members’ fitness, physical state and attendance were gathered for research.

Everything from the open-plan style architecture to the family consultation was designed to allow mutual respect and fluid movement.

The experiment is pertinent of it’s time with ideas of utopia, communication and the development of a super race being widely pondered. Today there is talk of a ‘nanny state’, of diminishing community spirit and predictions of a national health catastrophe. When the collection of personal information and identity laundering is big business, we may be dubious of some of the Pioneer Centre’s founding basis. However regarding health as a positive product of quality, and our shared environment seems apt.

Perhaps health and safety is less about ‘me’ and ‘you’ but ‘we’. Could health and safety be an optimistic component of a shared responsibility and ethos?

Stallibrass, Being Me and Also Us- lessons from the Peckham Experiment, [1989], Scottish Academic Press, Edinburgh The Pioneer Centre was located in Peckham, St. Mary’s Road, South London. It opened in May 1935. George Scott Williamson and Innes Pearse were medics with in the founding group.

3 L. Berg, Being Me and Also Us-lessons from the Peckham Experiment, [1989], Scottish Academic Press, Edinburgh 2

XI How to Play ‘Cool-Hand Sam’ Bored? You will be… by Simon Hopper Objective The objective is to play a winning game of both FreeCell and Hearts (in that order) in the least time. At the point of writing (13th Nov 2009), the record is exactly 5.00 minutes.

Equipment A computer is needed with both games loaded and a stopwatch facility. (In the development of the game www.online-stopwatch.com was used.)

Starting situation Start with the stopwatch programme open, and set to zero with neither game opened.

Procedure Start the stopwatch and then open FreeCell. Play the game. If and when the game is won, close FreeCell and open Hearts.

When the prompt window is presented asking for the name of the player, type ‘cool-hand sam’ (lower-case and without the inverted commas) and press enter.

both games aggressively.

must

be

played

FreeCell Seek the aces with urgency, making cavalier use of the free cells. The player must assume that the cards placed in the free cells will find a place on a stack below after the aces have been brought into play.

Then seek the 2s in the same way and so on. As the stacks mature, more care is needed to avoid stalemate.

The FreeCell game must be completed in 2.30 or less if the player is attempting to challenge the record time.

Hearts In order to challenge the record time, it is necessary to win all the points (thereby imposing the maximum score on all three opponents) as many as four or five times. The player must take chances in order to achieve this.

Play the game. If and when the game is won, stop the stopwatch and note the time.

If one of the computer characters wins all the points, this is not necessarily a bad thing as it ramps up the scores of the other players and takes the total table scores closer to 100.

In order to register a competitive time,

Keep cool.

XI How to Play ‘Cool-Hand Sam’ Bored? You will be… by Simon Hopper Objective The objective is to play a winning game of both FreeCell and Hearts (in that order) in the least time. At the point of writing (13th Nov 2009), the record is exactly 5.00 minutes.

Equipment A computer is needed with both games loaded and a stopwatch facility. (In the development of the game www.online-stopwatch.com was used.)

Starting situation Start with the stopwatch programme open, and set to zero with neither game opened.

Procedure Start the stopwatch and then open FreeCell. Play the game. If and when the game is won, close FreeCell and open Hearts.

When the prompt window is presented asking for the name of the player, type ‘cool-hand sam’ (lower-case and without the inverted commas) and press enter.

both games aggressively.

must

be

played

FreeCell Seek the aces with urgency, making cavalier use of the free cells. The player must assume that the cards placed in the free cells will find a place on a stack below after the aces have been brought into play.

Then seek the 2s in the same way and so on. As the stacks mature, more care is needed to avoid stalemate.

The FreeCell game must be completed in 2.30 or less if the player is attempting to challenge the record time.

Hearts In order to challenge the record time, it is necessary to win all the points (thereby imposing the maximum score on all three opponents) as many as four or five times. The player must take chances in order to achieve this.

Play the game. If and when the game is won, stop the stopwatch and note the time.

If one of the computer characters wins all the points, this is not necessarily a bad thing as it ramps up the scores of the other players and takes the total table scores closer to 100.

In order to register a competitive time,

Keep cool.

XII

XIII Brine Tasting Yes, exactly that by Rob Bohne and Daniel Yelland Brine tasting (often, in brine circles, simply tasting) is the sensory examination and evaluation of brine. While the practice of brine tasting is as ancient as its production, a more formalised methodology has slowly become established from the 14th century onwards.

Modern, professional brine tasters (such as sommeliers or buyers for retailers) use a constantly evolving formal terminology which is used to describe the range of perceived flavours, aromas and general characteristics of a brine. More informal, recreational tasting may use similar terminology, usually involving a much less analytical process for a more general, personal appreciation.

There are five basic steps in tasting brine: colour, swirl, smell, taste, and savour. This is also known as the five S’s: see, swirl, sniff, sip, savour. During this process, a taster must look for clarity, varietal character, integration, expressiveness, complexity, and connectedness.

Expressiveness is the quality the brine possesses when its aromas and flavours are well-defined and clearly projected. The complexity of the brine is affected by many factors, one of which may be the multiplicity of its flavours. The connectedness of the brine, a rather abstract and difficult to ascertain quality, describes the bond between the brine and its land of origin.

And before you ask, no, we did not simply steal the above text from the ‘wine-tasting’ entry on Wikipedia and substitute the w’s for br’s.

Dan Yelland (left) is a seasoned brine taster. Today he will be taking us through a selection of some of his favourite brines and some new ones.

Photos by Rob Bohne

XII

XIII Brine Tasting Yes, exactly that by Rob Bohne and Daniel Yelland Brine tasting (often, in brine circles, simply tasting) is the sensory examination and evaluation of brine. While the practice of brine tasting is as ancient as its production, a more formalised methodology has slowly become established from the 14th century onwards.

Modern, professional brine tasters (such as sommeliers or buyers for retailers) use a constantly evolving formal terminology which is used to describe the range of perceived flavours, aromas and general characteristics of a brine. More informal, recreational tasting may use similar terminology, usually involving a much less analytical process for a more general, personal appreciation.

There are five basic steps in tasting brine: colour, swirl, smell, taste, and savour. This is also known as the five S’s: see, swirl, sniff, sip, savour. During this process, a taster must look for clarity, varietal character, integration, expressiveness, complexity, and connectedness.

Expressiveness is the quality the brine possesses when its aromas and flavours are well-defined and clearly projected. The complexity of the brine is affected by many factors, one of which may be the multiplicity of its flavours. The connectedness of the brine, a rather abstract and difficult to ascertain quality, describes the bond between the brine and its land of origin.

And before you ask, no, we did not simply steal the above text from the ‘wine-tasting’ entry on Wikipedia and substitute the w’s for br’s.

Dan Yelland (left) is a seasoned brine taster. Today he will be taking us through a selection of some of his favourite brines and some new ones.

Photos by Rob Bohne

XIV

XV

The Brines Asparagus Spears

Pimiento Stuffed Olives

Manufacturer: John West Best Before End: Jan 2011 Region of Origin: Peru Ingredients: Asparagus, water, salt Price: £2.25 Comments: The asparagus spears are the most expensive of the selection of brines being tasted.

They are also the furthest flung, coming all the way from South America. Asparagus has been accused of making one’s urine smell. This might also be true of asparagus brine.

Manufacturer: Tesco Best Before End: Oct 2011 Region of Origin: Spain Ingredients: Pitted green olives, water, minced pimiento, salt, acidity regulator (lactic acid), thickeners (sodium alginate, guar gum), firming agent (calcium chloride).

Price: £0.68 Comments: Despite being the cheapest brine of the bunch there is something about pimiento stuffed olive brine that has a bit of classiness about it.

Hot Dogs

Crabmeat

Manufacturer: Princes Best Before End: Oct 2011 Region of Origin: Holland Ingredients: Hot Dogs (mechanically recovered chicken (58%), water, pork (14%), wheat starch, pork fat, salt, stabilisers: E451, E452, spices (contains celery), hydrolysed maize protein, dextrose, antioxidant: E316, casing: beef collagen, preservative E250, colour E155), water, salt.

Price: £0.79 Comments: Mostly made of mechanically recovered chicken.

Manufacturer: Princes Best Before End: July 2012 Region of Origin: Vietnam Ingredients: Crabmeat, water, salt, sugar, stabiliser: E339, flavour enhancer: E621 (monosodium glutamate), citric acid: E330, sequestrant: E385, preservative: E223.

Price: £1.49 Comments: Definitely the most interesting of the brines being tasted, the crabmeat should be a real sea-side treat . It’s come all the way from Vietnam, so you know it’s good.

XIV

XV

The Brines Asparagus Spears

Pimiento Stuffed Olives

Manufacturer: John West Best Before End: Jan 2011 Region of Origin: Peru Ingredients: Asparagus, water, salt Price: £2.25 Comments: The asparagus spears are the most expensive of the selection of brines being tasted.

They are also the furthest flung, coming all the way from South America. Asparagus has been accused of making one’s urine smell. This might also be true of asparagus brine.

Manufacturer: Tesco Best Before End: Oct 2011 Region of Origin: Spain Ingredients: Pitted green olives, water, minced pimiento, salt, acidity regulator (lactic acid), thickeners (sodium alginate, guar gum), firming agent (calcium chloride).

Price: £0.68 Comments: Despite being the cheapest brine of the bunch there is something about pimiento stuffed olive brine that has a bit of classiness about it.

Hot Dogs

Crabmeat

Manufacturer: Princes Best Before End: Oct 2011 Region of Origin: Holland Ingredients: Hot Dogs (mechanically recovered chicken (58%), water, pork (14%), wheat starch, pork fat, salt, stabilisers: E451, E452, spices (contains celery), hydrolysed maize protein, dextrose, antioxidant: E316, casing: beef collagen, preservative E250, colour E155), water, salt.

Price: £0.79 Comments: Mostly made of mechanically recovered chicken.

Manufacturer: Princes Best Before End: July 2012 Region of Origin: Vietnam Ingredients: Crabmeat, water, salt, sugar, stabiliser: E339, flavour enhancer: E621 (monosodium glutamate), citric acid: E330, sequestrant: E385, preservative: E223.

Price: £1.49 Comments: Definitely the most interesting of the brines being tasted, the crabmeat should be a real sea-side treat . It’s come all the way from Vietnam, so you know it’s good.

XVI

XVII

The Verdict Asparagus Spears

Pimiento Stuffed Olives

Appearance: Viscous orange with white sediment Nose: Metallic, green vegetables, country side, the bits left on your plate at the end of a meal that your mum told you to eat up Taste: Vomit-inducing, vegetables.

Salinity: Medium Comments: This brine would go well with food. Surprise your friends at a dinner party- served between courses the stomachheaving flavour would definitely create room for dessert.

Verdict: 3/10

Appearance: Cloudy apple juice Nose: Olives, Spanish markets, just olives really Taste: Like sea water. Wouldn’t try it again. It could do with aging about six years or so to take the salty edge off.

Salinity: Dry Comments: Olive brine is an acquired taste, not for the fainthearted and definitely not a brine for beginners. Start off on something easier like hot dog brine and work up to it.

Verdict: 2/10

Hot Dogs

Crabmeat

Appearance: Orange/yellow, slightly luminous Nose: Hot dogs, 5-a-side football, burger vans, a unique smell- is it chemical? Is it sausage?

Taste: An initial taste of hot dogs, followed by an intense salty finish, not quite like an oyster but definitely uncomfortable.

Salinity: Medium dry Comments Put a couple of cans in your cellar to mature for next year and they should reach their full potential.

Verdict: 4/10

Appearance: White and creamy Nose: Powerful, inescapable aroma of gone off fish. It smells like seaweed and shit. Like a can of salt-water death. I feel sick.

Taste: NME (not man enough- Dan couldn’t face tasting this one).

Salinity: Unknown Comments: This brine proved to be too much even for a veteran brine taster. Dan blamed a weak stomach having accidentally swallowed some of one of the other brines.

Verdict: 1/10

XVI

XVII

The Verdict Asparagus Spears

Pimiento Stuffed Olives

Appearance: Viscous orange with white sediment Nose: Metallic, green vegetables, country side, the bits left on your plate at the end of a meal that your mum told you to eat up Taste: Vomit-inducing, vegetables.

Salinity: Medium Comments: This brine would go well with food. Surprise your friends at a dinner party- served between courses the stomachheaving flavour would definitely create room for dessert.

Verdict: 3/10

Appearance: Cloudy apple juice Nose: Olives, Spanish markets, just olives really Taste: Like sea water. Wouldn’t try it again. It could do with aging about six years or so to take the salty edge off.

Salinity: Dry Comments: Olive brine is an acquired taste, not for the fainthearted and definitely not a brine for beginners. Start off on something easier like hot dog brine and work up to it.

Verdict: 2/10

Hot Dogs

Crabmeat

Appearance: Orange/yellow, slightly luminous Nose: Hot dogs, 5-a-side football, burger vans, a unique smell- is it chemical? Is it sausage?

Taste: An initial taste of hot dogs, followed by an intense salty finish, not quite like an oyster but definitely uncomfortable.

Salinity: Medium dry Comments Put a couple of cans in your cellar to mature for next year and they should reach their full potential.

Verdict: 4/10

Appearance: White and creamy Nose: Powerful, inescapable aroma of gone off fish. It smells like seaweed and shit. Like a can of salt-water death. I feel sick.

Taste: NME (not man enough- Dan couldn’t face tasting this one).

Salinity: Unknown Comments: This brine proved to be too much even for a veteran brine taster. Dan blamed a weak stomach having accidentally swallowed some of one of the other brines.

Verdict: 1/10

Tube

by Krishan Nursimooloo

Rat run of almost ultimate design And Smoke defence in war-torn history, Whose nuclear breath buys time save splashed From yellow lines a string of pressured souls Each bound to flee reality, circling, Jubilant, lost through adverts selling the great Outside swiped from station to station, The pride of a nation moving faster and faster.

So, keep off the live rails, please mind the gap And do be polite for the capital Heads underground who read, listen, Talk and doze down in this thunderous place With a consummate lack of air and space Trying hard to remember in face of breed, class, Colour or creed that it is not a race But a ride on pillars of engine, Bodily tides sifting against strangers Who smile awhile, averting his and her Eyes beguiled as all around loneliness Pinches shoulders, thighs and steps on a foot Only to sigh, apologise, patient...

Until the next suit decides to rise And I take up its place, distracting myself From regurgitated threats seen on the Pages of papers lying from left To right these centurial halls of night That half alight in day then close, For it is said of mercurial drunks pissing Inside whilst, deriding the rain, logic counts its stars That the swellsome Thames bursts not Her snaky main to drown us all in vain Pursuit of progress; husky buskers And the musky dispossessed buoyed with colour Coded trains, electrically helmed by Grave placebo pilots, an Orwellian nightmare, An Orphean theme, or so at last It seems as the screech wheels rest, the bustling Nest shuffles away led by steel signs, Stood staring into strange behinds on silver Steps and across the pinball threshold where, Insalubrious light soon makes me clear That life sadly might not be much better out here.

Tube

by Krishan Nursimooloo

Rat run of almost ultimate design And Smoke defence in war-torn history, Whose nuclear breath buys time save splashed From yellow lines a string of pressured souls Each bound to flee reality, circling, Jubilant, lost through adverts selling the great Outside swiped from station to station, The pride of a nation moving faster and faster.

So, keep off the live rails, please mind the gap And do be polite for the capital Heads underground who read, listen, Talk and doze down in this thunderous place With a consummate lack of air and space Trying hard to remember in face of breed, class, Colour or creed that it is not a race But a ride on pillars of engine, Bodily tides sifting against strangers Who smile awhile, averting his and her Eyes beguiled as all around loneliness Pinches shoulders, thighs and steps on a foot Only to sigh, apologise, patient...

Until the next suit decides to rise And I take up its place, distracting myself From regurgitated threats seen on the Pages of papers lying from left To right these centurial halls of night That half alight in day then close, For it is said of mercurial drunks pissing Inside whilst, deriding the rain, logic counts its stars That the swellsome Thames bursts not Her snaky main to drown us all in vain Pursuit of progress; husky buskers And the musky dispossessed buoyed with colour Coded trains, electrically helmed by Grave placebo pilots, an Orwellian nightmare, An Orphean theme, or so at last It seems as the screech wheels rest, the bustling Nest shuffles away led by steel signs, Stood staring into strange behinds on silver Steps and across the pinball threshold where, Insalubrious light soon makes me clear That life sadly might not be much better out here.

XX Health and Safety Manual Please read before engaging in casual sex by Madam Moleham Inebriated, sexually charged youth. Not a good combination, you'd think, huh?

Or maybe a fucking good night to some.

But for me, a recent university graduate, it was a bit of both. Place: dingy indie club in the outskirts of Henley. Time: who gives a fuck? I was just one of maniacs in the crowd.

That was last night. I woke up with a handful of cuts, a punch full of bruises

There was a rustling under the sheets and Jack woke up with a boyish grin on his face.

and a strange mop of hair peeking from under my Primarni (don't blame the game, blame the recession) bed sheets.

Going back to the subject, that lifeless corpse was a raging monster with a hard on just hours ago. The traumatic events of last night brought me to dedicate my time to the Health and Safety Manual for Drunken Sex with Strangers that will be hanging above my bed for future warning.

of sentimentally meaningful perfumes being smashed on the floor, which could play a key role in one of the cuts on your leg.

"Good night?“ "Get the fuck out.“ And thankfully he scampered off leaving me determined to see a therapist. If only there was a 999 number for mental emergencies.

Remember follow the manual, or else you might....

End up with the (deceptively) hottest guy in the club who has a knife fetish and clears your dresser thinking of how macho he looks when doing it.

This could result in glass shattering, your laptop braking and your collection

Lover boy must be living in a fantasy world because, oblivious to the shock on your face, he grabs you and whomps (I must use that term, because that's exactly how it sounded) your then helpless body against the hard wall and attempts to devour your face. Oh yeah, did I mention that he attempted to carry you up to the room and fell halfway down? By now, you should be unconscious but some uninvited poking in the rear wakes you right up.

No, some behaviour is just simply against the rules of health and safety.

The manual is my Bible.

XX Health and Safety Manual Please read before engaging in casual sex by Madam Moleham Inebriated, sexually charged youth. Not a good combination, you'd think, huh?

Or maybe a fucking good night to some.

But for me, a recent university graduate, it was a bit of both. Place: dingy indie club in the outskirts of Henley. Time: who gives a fuck? I was just one of maniacs in the crowd.

That was last night. I woke up with a handful of cuts, a punch full of bruises

There was a rustling under the sheets and Jack woke up with a boyish grin on his face.

and a strange mop of hair peeking from under my Primarni (don't blame the game, blame the recession) bed sheets.

Going back to the subject, that lifeless corpse was a raging monster with a hard on just hours ago. The traumatic events of last night brought me to dedicate my time to the Health and Safety Manual for Drunken Sex with Strangers that will be hanging above my bed for future warning.

of sentimentally meaningful perfumes being smashed on the floor, which could play a key role in one of the cuts on your leg.

"Good night?“ "Get the fuck out.“ And thankfully he scampered off leaving me determined to see a therapist. If only there was a 999 number for mental emergencies.

Remember follow the manual, or else you might....

End up with the (deceptively) hottest guy in the club who has a knife fetish and clears your dresser thinking of how macho he looks when doing it.

This could result in glass shattering, your laptop braking and your collection

Lover boy must be living in a fantasy world because, oblivious to the shock on your face, he grabs you and whomps (I must use that term, because that's exactly how it sounded) your then helpless body against the hard wall and attempts to devour your face. Oh yeah, did I mention that he attempted to carry you up to the room and fell halfway down? By now, you should be unconscious but some uninvited poking in the rear wakes you right up.

No, some behaviour is just simply against the rules of health and safety.

The manual is my Bible.

Bee Story

by Matthew Feldman

Bee Story

by Matthew Feldman

I Nearly Died! or Beware Courier, Beware!

by Simon Hopper ve got an elbow like an aubergine, I've got a penis like a prune I've got a ribcage that hurts me when I laugh I've got more swellings and abrasions you'd find fifty Asians Who'd been twenty rounds with Mike Tyson would have I nearly died! I nearly died!

I came off my motorbike, Oh fuck me! I cried Took a Transit on the inside, I really shouldn't have And there I found a Volvo Estate in my path I’ve got swelling on my swellings, I’ve got bruising in my groin It hurts me when I get up and lie down I’m so many different hues, you’d easily confuse me Naked with a fully costumed clown I nearly died! I nearly died!

I came off my motorbike, Oh fuck me! I cried I wrote off my Honda the outcome was quite clear And put myself in casualty - it’s not a great idea.

So, come on all you courier boys, take warning by my song And don’t ride with your head stuck up your arse Don’t carry out manoeuvres that confuse other road users And watch out for Volvos trying to cross your path I nearly died! I nearly died!

I came off my motorbike, Oh fuck me! I cried It’s the second time I’ve done it both times landing on my head I’d better find another job before I end up dead.

I’

I Nearly Died! or Beware Courier, Beware!

by Simon Hopper ve got an elbow like an aubergine, I've got a penis like a prune I've got a ribcage that hurts me when I laugh I've got more swellings and abrasions you'd find fifty Asians Who'd been twenty rounds with Mike Tyson would have I nearly died! I nearly died!

I came off my motorbike, Oh fuck me! I cried Took a Transit on the inside, I really shouldn't have And there I found a Volvo Estate in my path I’ve got swelling on my swellings, I’ve got bruising in my groin It hurts me when I get up and lie down I’m so many different hues, you’d easily confuse me Naked with a fully costumed clown I nearly died! I nearly died!

I came off my motorbike, Oh fuck me! I cried I wrote off my Honda the outcome was quite clear And put myself in casualty - it’s not a great idea.

So, come on all you courier boys, take warning by my song And don’t ride with your head stuck up your arse Don’t carry out manoeuvres that confuse other road users And watch out for Volvos trying to cross your path I nearly died! I nearly died!

I came off my motorbike, Oh fuck me! I cried It’s the second time I’ve done it both times landing on my head I’d better find another job before I end up dead.

I’

No Title Health is happiness by James Kennedy The world is absolutely obsessed with health. Fact.

Everywhere you look or read or listen there is someone telling you that a product or activity (usually something fun) is bad for your health.

Frankly, I’ve had enough of it. If you avoid everything that is bad for your health you would be sat in your house, away from sharp objects and wrapped safely in a

duvet (although I imagine that the lack of fresh air is bad for your health).

People die every day from accidents and illnesses.

Some of these have been the picture of health their whole lives and have done everything by the book. So you start to think, is it really healthy to be healthy?!

Nearly everyone

would say that a teetotal, anti-smoking, non red meat eating church goer is likely to live a lot longer than someone who goes out, takes drugs, likes a drink and doesn’t mind if their steak is still mooing on the plate. But this isn’t necessarily the case.

Obviously if you are a raging alcoholic then your chances of a long life are low but, as long as ‘bad’ things

are done in moderation, I believe that what you do with yourself is down to the individual.

Whatever makes you happy.

Interestingly, upon Googling ‘bad for your health’ the first relevant page lists the following as bad for your health (seriously) – guilt, bed sharing, feminism, science reporting, state science, loneliness, wi-fi, skinny

jeans and coffee.

Now, none of these are getting banned by the government and you can’t get arrested (although you probably should) for wearing skinny jeans.

Just look at Keith Richards- 65 and still going strong having been “rocking” for more than 40 years with a pretty constant heroin habit whilst his band mate

Ronnie Wood (62) has just started going out with a 20year-old Russian model. I would imagine they are both pretty happy with their lot.

People putting themselves through stringent ‘health kicks’ even if they don’t want to and living their lives by what the media tell them is good and bad are absolutely insane and will surely

end up in a worse state due to all the contradicting messages they receive.

So go out if you want, drink, take drugs, smoke, stuff your face with cakes or be the healthiest person on the planet but make sure it’s what you want to do.

Who says the media know what is healthy and what’s not, they change their minds every day.

As cliché as it

might be, you do only live once and as Natasha Richardson, James Dean, Stephen Gateley or indeed, dare I say it, Jade Goody might tell you: you really don’t know what’s round the corner. So be as healthy as you want to be and, regardless of how you make it happen, if you are happy then as far as I’m concerned you’re the healthiest person in the world.

No Title Health is happiness by James Kennedy The world is absolutely obsessed with health. Fact.

Everywhere you look or read or listen there is someone telling you that a product or activity (usually something fun) is bad for your health.

Frankly, I’ve had enough of it. If you avoid everything that is bad for your health you would be sat in your house, away from sharp objects and wrapped safely in a

duvet (although I imagine that the lack of fresh air is bad for your health).

People die every day from accidents and illnesses.

Some of these have been the picture of health their whole lives and have done everything by the book. So you start to think, is it really healthy to be healthy?!

Nearly everyone

would say that a teetotal, anti-smoking, non red meat eating church goer is likely to live a lot longer than someone who goes out, takes drugs, likes a drink and doesn’t mind if their steak is still mooing on the plate. But this isn’t necessarily the case.

Obviously if you are a raging alcoholic then your chances of a long life are low but, as long as ‘bad’ things

are done in moderation, I believe that what you do with yourself is down to the individual.

Whatever makes you happy.

Interestingly, upon Googling ‘bad for your health’ the first relevant page lists the following as bad for your health (seriously) – guilt, bed sharing, feminism, science reporting, state science, loneliness, wi-fi, skinny

jeans and coffee.

Now, none of these are getting banned by the government and you can’t get arrested (although you probably should) for wearing skinny jeans.

Just look at Keith Richards- 65 and still going strong having been “rocking” for more than 40 years with a pretty constant heroin habit whilst his band mate

Ronnie Wood (62) has just started going out with a 20year-old Russian model. I would imagine they are both pretty happy with their lot.

People putting themselves through stringent ‘health kicks’ even if they don’t want to and living their lives by what the media tell them is good and bad are absolutely insane and will surely

end up in a worse state due to all the contradicting messages they receive.

So go out if you want, drink, take drugs, smoke, stuff your face with cakes or be the healthiest person on the planet but make sure it’s what you want to do.

Who says the media know what is healthy and what’s not, they change their minds every day.

As cliché as it

might be, you do only live once and as Natasha Richardson, James Dean, Stephen Gateley or indeed, dare I say it, Jade Goody might tell you: you really don’t know what’s round the corner. So be as healthy as you want to be and, regardless of how you make it happen, if you are happy then as far as I’m concerned you’re the healthiest person in the world.

Resuscitate Me Annie

by Olivia Patt

Resuscitate Me Annie

by Olivia Patt

REPLICA GALLERY

Welcome art lovers and pretentious arseholes.

This is the Replica Art Gallery.

REPLICA GALLERY

Welcome art lovers and pretentious arseholes.

This is the Replica Art Gallery.

Phillip Mursell Phillip is Mexican.

Phillip is studying art at the University of Leeds. www.misformexican.co.uk

Phillip Mursell Phillip is Mexican.

Phillip is studying art at the University of Leeds. www.misformexican.co.uk

Rebecca Machin Trained as a graphic designer, Rebecca Machin's personal work takes a lighthearted look at themes of love, lust, loneliness and longing. beckaotic@hotmail.com

Rebecca Machin Trained as a graphic designer, Rebecca Machin's personal work takes a lighthearted look at themes of love, lust, loneliness and longing. beckaotic@hotmail.com

Iona Ascherson Iona is an illustrator studying at Leeds College of Art and Design. http://scootinnainglan.deviantart.com/gallery/

Iona Ascherson Iona is an illustrator studying at Leeds College of Art and Design. http://scootinnainglan.deviantart.com/gallery/

Aron Klein-Barge Klein Aron is an artist at Leeds College of Art and Design. www.aronneedsawebsite.com

Aron Klein-Barge Klein Aron is an artist at Leeds College of Art and Design. www.aronneedsawebsite.com

Benedita Feijo “I studied and lived in London a few years ago. I returned to Portugal, 4 years ago and freelanced in print, web, photography and interactive design. Finally we set up shop. InteractCreative was born in 2006.”

“This project is personal. The idea behind it is how I feel about the world at the moment.” www.interactcreative.com

Benedita Feijo “I studied and lived in London a few years ago. I returned to Portugal, 4 years ago and freelanced in print, web, photography and interactive design. Finally we set up shop. InteractCreative was born in 2006.”

“This project is personal. The idea behind it is how I feel about the world at the moment.” www.interactcreative.com

XXXXVIII Stealth and Hefty

by Barry Ward "Sit down beside me and I'll tell you a tale: tall or otherwise, depending on your good self. And mine's a stout.“ Hooked, he sits. But not before a cursory scan around the bar's environs.

Had he taken more time he'd have noticed curious titbits of all things odd decorating the shelves and walls of this waterhole they call Yore Mamma's (they being the clientele, not the owners).

The titbits being my ticket to booze more often than not. An age-old trick passed down proudly from father to son, it involves the pilfering of a bar item, usually dusted in oblivion and always small enough to fit in a coat pocket. "A nighty-night and an on-myway", precedes the morn's arrival back to the scene of the crime offering in exchange for a drink, "...an

object I found which'd suit your establishment down to the ground. In fact I'd say the place was incomplete without it." Drink no:1.

Once comfortable and suitably oiled, any member of the public, or private for that matter, who sets foot inside the door is fair game.

The gentleman in question being paying public no:5.

The stout duly arrives and as it settles I rattle the auld cells for a story befitting a man of such shiftiness.

"I come from a long line of travellers. How long you ask? How long is a piece of string I say, twice times the length of its half says you...

Well if you must know my people are mentioned in the Bible. A constructor of J.C.'s cross no less. A tin smith. Accordingly, Christ cursed this man‘s line to wander the earth 'til judgement day."

"Interesting. Like the story

XXXXVIII Stealth and Hefty

by Barry Ward "Sit down beside me and I'll tell you a tale: tall or otherwise, depending on your good self. And mine's a stout.“ Hooked, he sits. But not before a cursory scan around the bar's environs.

Had he taken more time he'd have noticed curious titbits of all things odd decorating the shelves and walls of this waterhole they call Yore Mamma's (they being the clientele, not the owners).

The titbits being my ticket to booze more often than not. An age-old trick passed down proudly from father to son, it involves the pilfering of a bar item, usually dusted in oblivion and always small enough to fit in a coat pocket. "A nighty-night and an on-myway", precedes the morn's arrival back to the scene of the crime offering in exchange for a drink, "...an

object I found which'd suit your establishment down to the ground. In fact I'd say the place was incomplete without it." Drink no:1.

Once comfortable and suitably oiled, any member of the public, or private for that matter, who sets foot inside the door is fair game.

The gentleman in question being paying public no:5.

The stout duly arrives and as it settles I rattle the auld cells for a story befitting a man of such shiftiness.

"I come from a long line of travellers. How long you ask? How long is a piece of string I say, twice times the length of its half says you...

Well if you must know my people are mentioned in the Bible. A constructor of J.C.'s cross no less. A tin smith. Accordingly, Christ cursed this man‘s line to wander the earth 'til judgement day."

"Interesting. Like the story

XXXXX

of

XXXXXI

the

wandering

Jew."

"Precisely. Now this ain't my story. I can't claim it, you follow? Should there ever be a film of it made I wouldn't feature. Now... I am only interested in telling you a tale of me. You get me?“ "I do. But I'm not fussy. Any old tale will do.“ A silence.

"Don't be so flippant... or disregarding of the power of stories my friend. This is my profession after all you're ridiculing...“ "I'm not ridiculing anyone.

My friend. I am just saying, as a paying customer who bought you a pint to hear a tale, I care not whether the story is of you or another.

That's all.“ "Well then don't be so

careless. I deign to tell you a tale of me. Another please....“ "Last one. And this had better be good.“ "Tough audience, eh? Well as I said, I am a traveller and as a traveller I travelled here to Engerland looking for work on the sites. The websites. I landed in Shoreditch where my people and maybe even some of yours did so long before us. Sure wasn't it them that made the crossover possible? Them that took the flak as newlycomes are loathe to do so, what with systematic racism and the likes.

Abuses physical, verbal and sexual. Of discriminations untold; and incriminations foretold. Anyway here I was flying the flag if we had one but we don't. And do you think anyone'd hire me to do their sites? They did

in their shite. Sure aren't they ten-a-penny in the East and sure what would they want an illiterate laying down webs for 'em for, I ask ye?“ "Well clearly wouldn't".

they

"Hence my plight.“ "Two drinks is a little overpriced for a hard luck story.“ "Your demeanour tells a sorry story of its own. And tell me, what is it that has you so angst ridden and rude?"

"I was just on my way home from work having spent a long day deliberating over how I am to kill my wife and child.

For months I have contemplated it. Last night I finally decided I am going to do it. I thought

I'd stop off for one last drink in what once was my local, now it's his, before the horror unfolds. Upon seeing you and hearing your odd offer I figured maybe listening to this man's story will further enlighten me somehow, or at least entertain me.

Neither has come to fruition. And now I must be off.“ And as the door swings shut, inhaling a cold breath from the misty exterior, I open his wallet to see a young female version of his self beaming back at me like I was in the booth with her, a dentist having playfully requested her widest smile.

A health of notes ensure I'll be here ‘til closing time, whereupon that figurine of Christ outside the jacks'll be joining my new leather friend.

XXXXX

of

XXXXXI

the

wandering

Jew."

"Precisely. Now this ain't my story. I can't claim it, you follow? Should there ever be a film of it made I wouldn't feature. Now... I am only interested in telling you a tale of me. You get me?“ "I do. But I'm not fussy. Any old tale will do.“ A silence.

"Don't be so flippant... or disregarding of the power of stories my friend. This is my profession after all you're ridiculing...“ "I'm not ridiculing anyone.

My friend. I am just saying, as a paying customer who bought you a pint to hear a tale, I care not whether the story is of you or another.

That's all.“ "Well then don't be so

careless. I deign to tell you a tale of me. Another please....“ "Last one. And this had better be good.“ "Tough audience, eh? Well as I said, I am a traveller and as a traveller I travelled here to Engerland looking for work on the sites. The websites. I landed in Shoreditch where my people and maybe even some of yours did so long before us. Sure wasn't it them that made the crossover possible? Them that took the flak as newlycomes are loathe to do so, what with systematic racism and the likes.

Abuses physical, verbal and sexual. Of discriminations untold; and incriminations foretold. Anyway here I was flying the flag if we had one but we don't. And do you think anyone'd hire me to do their sites? They did

in their shite. Sure aren't they ten-a-penny in the East and sure what would they want an illiterate laying down webs for 'em for, I ask ye?“ "Well clearly wouldn't".

they

"Hence my plight.“ "Two drinks is a little overpriced for a hard luck story.“ "Your demeanour tells a sorry story of its own. And tell me, what is it that has you so angst ridden and rude?"

"I was just on my way home from work having spent a long day deliberating over how I am to kill my wife and child.

For months I have contemplated it. Last night I finally decided I am going to do it. I thought

I'd stop off for one last drink in what once was my local, now it's his, before the horror unfolds. Upon seeing you and hearing your odd offer I figured maybe listening to this man's story will further enlighten me somehow, or at least entertain me.

Neither has come to fruition. And now I must be off.“ And as the door swings shut, inhaling a cold breath from the misty exterior, I open his wallet to see a young female version of his self beaming back at me like I was in the booth with her, a dentist having playfully requested her widest smile.

A health of notes ensure I'll be here ‘til closing time, whereupon that figurine of Christ outside the jacks'll be joining my new leather friend.

XXXXXII

XXXXXIII

UNCLE WETLEGS

COLLECTIVE AGONY Problems go here.

Solutions go here.

Uncle Wetlegs has been having a tough time of late. First he caught a horrible tropical disease whilst saving Alpacas in Peru, then he had to sell his second home after an expenses scandal. After all this stress there’s nothing that Uncle Wetlegs likes more than reading about other people’s problems and how they have been solved.

Boys and girls, to the left is an agony sheet.

The agony sheet goes on a wall in your home and acts as an ingenious method for gaining discreet agony uncle advice. All

I need some cheese. Badly.

-Yes cheese is a wonderful invention. We all need some cheese sometimes. Did you know that the oldest cheese still made in the UK is Cheshire? Yum yum.

Would anyone notice if I printed the same questions twice?

-No one reads this bit so no, probably not.

I don’t know what to do.

-Start your own business. Make something. Have a wank. I don’t care.

Why am I always bleeding?

-Because you are a big retard. Take more care of yourself and stop walking in to things.

I don’t like snakes.

-Snakes are very misunderstood. misunderstood Most of them are cuddly and kind and just want to be your friend.

Some of them want you dead. dead It is important not to tar them all with the same brush. Try to get to know every snake before you judge it.

I can’t control my toothpaste. toothpaste -I can’t help you.

My trills do not attract the birds.

-Listen to the other bird’s trills and copy them. Then make it longer. It is a general rule of thumb that the longest trill attracts the most birds.

housemates can anonymously post their problems and others can endeavor to answer. You can then type up your solved problems and send them Uncle Wetlegs for him to drool over and dream of a world where problems are all tied up and put in small cages with lots of other problems where they don’t really have enough space so they peck each other and pull out all their own feathers.

The problems featured in this issue are from 21 Bumhole Avenue, Birmingham.

Sometimes I feel like I’m underwater.

-Sometimes you are underwater.

I don’t have any tape for my nipples. Where can I find some?

-Use gaffa tape instead. It really hurts and it doesn’t work but its kind of sexy, isn’t it?

2 x 3 ÷ 555.29 x 68 + 50,001 ÷ 6 x 2,456 + 3 in your head without a calculator.

-20,467,376.76

Download an agony sheet and put it on your wall: www.replicamag.co.uk/Uncle_Wetlegs_Notice.pdf Go on, entertain the Uncle.

XXXXXII

XXXXXIII

UNCLE WETLEGS

COLLECTIVE AGONY Problems go here.

Solutions go here.

Uncle Wetlegs has been having a tough time of late. First he caught a horrible tropical disease whilst saving Alpacas in Peru, then he had to sell his second home after an expenses scandal. After all this stress there’s nothing that Uncle Wetlegs likes more than reading about other people’s problems and how they have been solved.

Boys and girls, to the left is an agony sheet.

The agony sheet goes on a wall in your home and acts as an ingenious method for gaining discreet agony uncle advice. All

I need some cheese. Badly.

-Yes cheese is a wonderful invention. We all need some cheese sometimes. Did you know that the oldest cheese still made in the UK is Cheshire? Yum yum.

Would anyone notice if I printed the same questions twice?

-No one reads this bit so no, probably not.

I don’t know what to do.

-Start your own business. Make something. Have a wank. I don’t care.

Why am I always bleeding?

-Because you are a big retard. Take more care of yourself and stop walking in to things.

I don’t like snakes.

-Snakes are very misunderstood. misunderstood Most of them are cuddly and kind and just want to be your friend.

Some of them want you dead. dead It is important not to tar them all with the same brush. Try to get to know every snake before you judge it.

I can’t control my toothpaste. toothpaste -I can’t help you.

My trills do not attract the birds.

-Listen to the other bird’s trills and copy them. Then make it longer. It is a general rule of thumb that the longest trill attracts the most birds.

housemates can anonymously post their problems and others can endeavor to answer. You can then type up your solved problems and send them Uncle Wetlegs for him to drool over and dream of a world where problems are all tied up and put in small cages with lots of other problems where they don’t really have enough space so they peck each other and pull out all their own feathers.

The problems featured in this issue are from 21 Bumhole Avenue, Birmingham.

Sometimes I feel like I’m underwater.

-Sometimes you are underwater.

I don’t have any tape for my nipples. Where can I find some?

-Use gaffa tape instead. It really hurts and it doesn’t work but its kind of sexy, isn’t it?

2 x 3 ÷ 555.29 x 68 + 50,001 ÷ 6 x 2,456 + 3 in your head without a calculator.

-20,467,376.76

Download an agony sheet and put it on your wall: www.replicamag.co.uk/Uncle_Wetlegs_Notice.pdf Go on, entertain the Uncle.

XXXXXIV WE NEED CONTRIBUTORS The Angel

by William Cox The Angel fell through the clouds. The hot up draughts that slowed his terminal velocity bore a spiralling myriad of cinders from below. His eyes streamed, his wings buckled against the roaring air and his lungs, accustomed only to the ambrosial atmosphere of home, laboured at the invasive stench of the fire-pitted landscape now rising towards him at a remorseless, unholy rate. He quickly met the unkind surface. "It’s so much better to journey than to arrive" thought the Angel as the impact crater filled with liquid flame, engulfing him and instantly immolating his pearlescent feathers and gold-scrolled hair and forever reddening his immortal skin. He lay there for a time, motionless, slowly assessing the extent of his bodily ruin. Irreversible surface damage. He'll never fly properly again, only ever glide with leathery wings from ledge to ledge. His feet, which bore the brunt of his landing, are reduced to hoof-like stumps. He finally rises, shrugging stiffly, sloughing off the setting pumice that tinkles groundwards like tiny distant bells. The irony affects a grim stoical smile. At least his teeth are still white. He looks up, narrowing incandescent eyes, scanning the distant heavens. "You haven't seen the last of me" he said in a strange new voice, drier than a brick kiln. "You haven't cast me down" he laughs "only handed me a kingdom".

“REPLICA NEEDS

YOU” Get off your arse and do something. Air your opinions. Get published. Start a fucking riot (just make sure you tell us about it).

REPLICA MAGAZINE Combating apathy and boredom nationwide. www.replicamag.co.uk

XXXXXIV WE NEED CONTRIBUTORS The Angel

by William Cox The Angel fell through the clouds. The hot up draughts that slowed his terminal velocity bore a spiralling myriad of cinders from below. His eyes streamed, his wings buckled against the roaring air and his lungs, accustomed only to the ambrosial atmosphere of home, laboured at the invasive stench of the fire-pitted landscape now rising towards him at a remorseless, unholy rate. He quickly met the unkind surface. "It’s so much better to journey than to arrive" thought the Angel as the impact crater filled with liquid flame, engulfing him and instantly immolating his pearlescent feathers and gold-scrolled hair and forever reddening his immortal skin. He lay there for a time, motionless, slowly assessing the extent of his bodily ruin. Irreversible surface damage. He'll never fly properly again, only ever glide with leathery wings from ledge to ledge. His feet, which bore the brunt of his landing, are reduced to hoof-like stumps. He finally rises, shrugging stiffly, sloughing off the setting pumice that tinkles groundwards like tiny distant bells. The irony affects a grim stoical smile. At least his teeth are still white. He looks up, narrowing incandescent eyes, scanning the distant heavens. "You haven't seen the last of me" he said in a strange new voice, drier than a brick kiln. "You haven't cast me down" he laughs "only handed me a kingdom".

“REPLICA NEEDS

YOU” Get off your arse and do something. Air your opinions. Get published. Start a fucking riot (just make sure you tell us about it).

REPLICA MAGAZINE Combating apathy and boredom nationwide. www.replicamag.co.uk

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED TO THIS ISSUE

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED TO THIS ISSUE

End.