has anyone noticed?

we are living in science fiction. fucking lap tops on beds of water, shiney plastic disks that play films that you shove in the side of a glowing boxes with temperature controlled air.

what the fuck am i talking about.

note to self

exercise and not being self absorbed and spending time with people makes me happy. being nice to people makes me happy. doing things to make people smile makes me happy.

and being positive has to be strived for at all times.

ugh.

i can't eat the amount i want to puke. i don't even want to be awake but i can't sleep.

an apology.

i've made a lot of offensive "work" in the past. probably nothing more so than the chapman brothers, tracey emin or perry (the transvestite pottery turner prize winner) the point is though. that i can't believe i made all this disgusting shit. i find it really depressing.

apart from the Fun videos and the animation and stuff and the times (i can remember - thanks medication, depression and insomnia) with my friends i totally regret all the stuff i've done. all the old graphics and shit. even the recentish gay photoshop pictures of muirs and rob. i am really disgusted at myself, and i laughed about this other stuff earlier, but this is just the stuff i can remember. not the horror going on in my brain that made me make all this stuff. under the guise of "humour" and supposedly not being a hypocrite about censorship and making art.

the real horror for me personally is that i simply do not remember making more than half of it.

i think this period of my life ended this year thanks to some good friends and family, for whatever reason i got a wake up call to how stupid and selfish i've been. trying to numb things away. and making horrible art to try and deal with it.

i'm now just saying sorry. i used to think laugh at it all or laugh at none of it.

today i feel like laughing at none of it.

if it's anything to do with me pre-dating roughly 2008 then treat it with the disregard that it deserves.

that mike bromage is dead. this is a new one.

maybe mcrancid is dead? but he was 1999/2000 so maybe he's ok. oh i hope so actually, considering my domain name. ahahahahah. i guess i'm cheering up a bit now after saying how i feel.

like i'm not going crazy here. i still like swearing all the time and all that junk, but i just don't want to make the kind of art that i see in 4 years time and say "what the hell is that disgusting talentless garbage" and the old "that's the point" doesn't stand up. why would a 22 year old man publish pictures of his shit on a website? the problem is, i don't have an answer because i don't even know who that person was. i have no idea.

i'm scared of the future. i'm really anxious. but i'm awake again. and i have to keep it that way.

i just want to make ceramics and paintings that make people smile.

ok, that's my preaching born-again rant over. i'm going to watch some fuckin' trailer park boys.

not forgetting these guys...

ground zero (again, but bear with me)

to anyone i have spoken to, or text or phoned this weekend, i am truly sorry for my behaviour. i was totally out of line and i can't really remember it.

i have finally learnt that i CANNOT control my use of tranquilizers. and i'm sorry to all the people that i have disappointed and hurt by this relapse.

so here we go. clean, positive mike is back. look out world because something awesome is going to happen.

my new painting

is a lie and i might not finish it. i cut my arm earlier and smeared little bits of blood over it at pointed moments. and now i;ve got spots of blood on my bed. great. more hassle.

2012 the end of the world...

MEat

Meat

shit

SHIT

MEAT


it's happening again.

give me a reason to believe in anything.

photos of me from over the last 4 or 5 years or so

me. present day.

this is me today.

old photos from my flat

me smoking + me et timmers.

paper bag experience

sticking my head in there. what if the world ends and i'm alone? that'd suck. like if you were in the lift on your own in the twin towers of the WTC when the first plane (supposedly) hit.

edward and mrs simpson

i ate food. slept. and bathed twice. i'm having a rest. might to some painting later but for now i'm going to chill out.

its 6am. ish.

a cat wants this fish
in a pond and it's just this fish
and he could eat bugs or grass or garbage.
but he really wants the fish
but instead he has a few licks of gin
and goes on adventures.

anyway....

goodnight.

time to paint. it's the only way now really.

yeah....

no drunk (and then deleted) HORROR show tonight.

just this

mike is
wanting to go back to that place where nothing matters and the world is echoing around you and people are just meat slapping about.

not. going. to happen.

unless i lean a metre to my right. but that'd only last a week at best.

no. fucking . waY

i just had a piss and then drank a beer and then went for another piss into the beer bottle i just drank from and it filled it perfectly (apart from drips all over my trousers which i won't get washed)

ok. so i like took a picture of a beer bottle full of piss as posterity etc, but i can't be fucked to plug my phone in.

"mother's return to berlin" (2008)

my new painting

thursday? oh fuck i thought it was friday.

i went to the doctors and had a beer on the way home up the road. i'm hip it's painful.







my treasure trove of piss. i'm going to collect it for years. i'll fill ware houses full of the shit. well piss but you know what i meant.

14 bottles of piss.