#lugholes

[ink-and-dagger]

i had the funniest vision about a modern au where silco “discovers” imagine dragons in the year of our lord 2024 and blasts demons in his headphones with a single tear rolling down his cheek………… aka the first time jinx is embarrassed of her dad

shh he’s having a moment

[grayjonx]

Things that make you go eugh: That moment of pure ick when Alejandro (Benicio Del Toro) shoves his finger deep - like two-knuckle deep - into Jon Bernthal's hapless lughole. But not only that: the way Alejandro lubricates his finger first. Don't fuck with Alejandro.

[gianttankeh]

Cheers very much. Be seeing youse.....

So the final curtain has been and gone... Thanks to Summerhall for hosting Usurper's retirement party, to Tindegger, Joyce Whitchurch & the Chocolate Monk DJs for serenading our lugholes, and to our family & friends fae all over the dis-UK, Europe & further afield who made it along on Saturday. Our hearts melted, along with the rest of our bodies, in that sweaty sold out venue knowing that youse were there with us. Thanks also to our extended family of international weirdos across the globe who sent well wishes and who kept us keen to traverse the landscape of largely unpopular music for one day shy of two decades. We love youse, fellow choobs. You can continue to follow Ali Robertson's exploits... On Tumblr as Giant Tank, eh: www.gianttankeh.tumblr.com On Bandcamp as Giant Tank: www.gianttank.bandcamp.com On Faceboak as Giant Tank: www.facebook.com/gianttank On Faceboak as TfEh: www.facebook.com/Tfehgigs On Instagroan as Giant Tank Against Tedium: www.instagram.com/gianttankagainsttedium On Threads as Giant Tank Against Tedium: @gianttankagainsttedium@threads.net On YeTube with Collette Tank: www.youtube.com/@collettetank On Twitland as Chobertson: www.twitter.com/Chobertson

If youse wanna hear what Malcy Duff is up to next then maybe learn morse code or smoke signalling.....

CHEERIO!!!

(Photo by Alejandro Basterrechea.)

[cosmopoliturtle]

I love how Serperior looks like it has actual ears. Sir Fuzzy-Lughole! :')

Thank you! I did try to make them somewhat vulpine/wolfish, Happy you like'em! C:

[mindtheash]

Introduction to Belief

(Imitation Poem, based on Billy Collins’ “Introduction to Poetry”) We ask them to believe a Wordand hold themselves against that weighty lightlike a trust fall or thumb a lughole to discern flocks. I say catapult a heretic into system beliefand clock him dissect it with knowledge tools, or stroll into a ministry denand consider the air for an aspect change. He wishes they would jetbeyond the…

[unhingedwomandiaries]

RIGHT. So apparently my beloved earbuds are now a BLOODY BACTERIAL PARADISE.

I invited these little sound demons into my life thinking, "OOH, LOOK HOW COOL I AM", and what do they do? TURN MY EARS INTO A MICROSCOPIC RAVE VENUE.

The wellness section of the newspaper - because OF COURSE - informs me I've got 700 TIMES MORE BACTERIA partying in my lugholes after ONE HOUR. ONE. BLOODY. HOUR.

My earwax has turned into some kind of ORGANIC SUPER-GLUE, sealing these little MONSTERS in like they're in some kind of AURAL SLOW COOKER. LOVELY.

Do my colleagues care when I warn them? DO THEY F*CK.

They're just nodding along to their "choons" - THAT'S A WORD NOW APPARENTLY - completely OBLIVIOUS to the fact they're walking around with entire ECOSYSTEMS in their ears. Some people look like they haven't explored their ear canals since the MID-90s!

Am I supposed to invest in some HIDEOUS over-ear headphones that look like they belong to a SHORT-WAVE RADIO ENTHUSIAST? NOT. A. CHANCE.

No, I'll just keep shoving these bacterial nightmares deeper into my ears in PURE DEFIANCE. Maybe I'll even EVOLVE super-earwax that corrodes through my temporal lobe.

BACTERIA: 1

HUMANS: 0

BRILLIANT.

shoves earbuds in deeper

[welldresseddadblog]

Garmology podcast:

It’s no secret that podcast enthusiasts often form a connection with their favourite hosts. Granting someone access to your lugholes for hours on end, it’s quite natural that over time a lopsided friendship of sort occurs. After immersing myself in Jeremy Kirkland’s “Blamo!” podcast for countless hours over the years, I extended an invitation for him to join me on Garmology. Our conversation…

[upsettingandunfortunateclasshate]

But you lose quality and arguably soul on CD. Music is about connection and all of the recording process throws up barriers to that, and none more so than digital music and CDs for me.

As a musician writing for CDs, casettes and vinyl, CDs were the worst. The quality was wank. During the early digital stuff we all felt like what's the fucking point of this. The sound you hear with your lugholes was at odds to the sound captured on record and played via CD. So you had to change everything.

CDs are suited to some music but not others like all formats tbf.

Another thing not mentioned about CDs is that listening to them on the go was infuriating. Any little bump in the road made your portable CD player bounce.

HOLD THE LINE!! KEEP PUSHING!!!!!

[captainignatiuspigheart]

Mental Health Track 028 Off jaunting about today, this time spreading the gospel of Luke. Skywalker, that is. I wonder how other people manage to sleep and remain asleep while knowing they have to be up at a given time to reach the right train with all the proper connections. I feel like I managed to quash all those insatiable demands from the anxiety fairy last night, distracted in part by reading a very good book which I was loath to put down, but did start to wake up again from around six. The distant smash of bin men, Oscar yowling next door (he’s a cat), all made it through my beloved earplugs, or one of them anyway since the other had fallen out during some dreamy writhing. While it seems like an obviously bad idea to staple them into one’s lughole, but I’d like it if there were some way to keep em in place. Maybe I shouldn’t thrash about in my sleep… I’ve mentioned using a white noise app previously, and figured its details might be ... >> Read On with Mental Health https://wp.me/pbprdx-90D

[dangerous9straps]

#Repost @trav11er • • • • • • How's this for a combo - @Panerai 's 217 & swiss-ammo leather, both from Neuchâtel 😍🙌😀👊🍻 strap c/o #dangerous9straps 🙏😊 #paneristi #luminor1950 #marinamilitare #pam217 #officinepanerai #panerai #lugholes #goldhands #swissammo #paneraicentral #paneraishotoftheweek #watchuseek #therolexforum #puristspro #fromthearchives #watchesofinstagram #watchnerd #watchgeek #watchaddict #panerai_dna #paneraiadventures #paneristiforever https://www.instagram.com/p/B7ww8fYnG8f/?igshid=1qvzj83e7p6w7

[themancorialist]

Aytoun Street, Manchester.

[sunkcostzine]

Haram

Lughole, Sheffield, UK

11/8/2017

[gianttankeh]

TFEH presents: Eleanor Cully Boehringer / Core Of The Coalman / Dead Labour Process & Off Brand at Fruitmarket, Edinburgh: 15/6/23.

TFEH pride themselves on experimentation, so what might happen if we take a novel approach and ask some of the weirdo artists that we invite to serenade yr lugholes to write biographies of themselves rather than forcing audiences to read between lines and consult thesauruses in hopes of deciphering the real OUT riddles and bewildering blether regularly conveyed in TFEHspeak? (We dinnae ken so click here to find out and buy tickets!)

[miffpleasant]

MDC @ lughole Sheffield  07/08/17

[unhingedwomandiaries]

Right. So picture the scene. I left work at precisely five-thirty, skipping out like some demented pixie with absolutely zero awareness that buses - those metal bastards of public transport - are about as reliable as a broken tardis. I bounced up to the bus stop at 5:37 sharp, my silly sausage brain genuinely believing the 5:37 bus would actually turn up at 5:37. SPOILER ALERT: It did not.

By the time this decrepit wheeled nightmare finally arrived at ten past six, I was hopping about like a caffeinated chicken with its head cut off. Seriously. I must've looked mental.

I boarded the bus with my headphones rammed so far into my lugholes I could've been auditioning for a medical experiment in selective deafness. Flashed my ticket at the driver - who gave me this look that was pure "here comes another idiot" - and trotted down the aisle. Then suddenly this driver starts bellowing at me like I'm some kind of special child who can't follow basic instructions.

"Are you f*cking stupid?" he yells.

Excuse me? EXCUSE ME? I explained - as politely as my rapidly dwindling patience would allow - that my ears were currently being assaulted by some absolutely banging music, and might he consider using his WORDS a bit more clearly? But no. This absolute weapon decides to turf EVERYONE off the bus.

Then it got properly mental. Some absolute legend of a woman decides to call him out on his behaviour, and OH MY GOD. He starts hurling abuse like he's auditioning for a sailor's sweary monologue competition. The words "c*nt" were flying about so much I thought we were at some kind of bizarre linguistic tennis match.

Naturally, I've reported the entire sh*tshow today. Because that's what responsible citizens do, right? I mean, WHO BEHAVES LIKE THAT?

Anyway, next bus came five minutes later and I got home without further drama. But you can bet your sweet arse I wrote every single delicious detail in my diary the moment I walked through the door. Because some stories are just too good not to document.

The end.

[jymbert]

Beddwell

1.

The Docherbert eyeballed me up, down and all around. His gingity frizzles poked from his bonce, lugholes and the nostrilcapers on his fizzogg.

'Keep you out of the osbutty

I sosurely can, with a chockity lozenge

a packity crisp and piscesgodden

from the fishmongrel', he grinnled.

'This is what happenstances when you have a docherbert that practicals out of the pub', I thought.

I bit the buttybelly and asked with outfright: 'How does chockity help with dried skin, doc?'

'Ha! Quite! Rwanow, off you flap!' he chiggled and hushered me away to the bar.

I peeled the place with my peelers and looked upon my old grizzler friend Lethargy. He was using his pawfingers to draw shapes on the steam-jacketed window.

'Heyo, Leth'.

Lethargy didn't turn his bonce but smiled.

'Greetingyous, Hardy.' He carried on drawing in the condensediments. 'You and your guitar all be well?'

'Can't comnegativsky. Sugared ming?'

Now he turned his bonce.

'Lovelies', he said.

I called to David Soul behind the bar.

'Dave! Two sugared mings and a bowl of toastycrumbs please.'

David Soul broke off from his gruckling with Old Man Dark.

'No problem with the mings, Muckle but I'm clear emptoid of crumbs. Emma Cockles is in later though if you're brave.'

My brainhole thought of seafood delights and I smiled.

'Greatio, Dave. Just mings then.'

David Soul poured the mings and brought them over to us, his moccasins dancing a feetybeat to 'Don't Give Up On Us Baby' as he left Old Man Dark slobbing into his drink.

I supped and savoured the groundybeef flavourings as Lethargy sat his furrity frame at the rickety table. His crow, Jupiter Bob, squawked his cheery happifuls at me. Over in the greasypit corner a mutt flippered coins in the jukemusic, and Orbison filled the room.

'Only the lonely', sang Lethargy, gravelly voice rattling the windows.

I tried to distract him from the singering.

'Harvestry good this session?'

Lethargy frowned, his fizzog contorting like a pan of dribblymelty dough, blue eyes lost under bushy browbumps.

'The radiosands are bad this year, Muck. Darkledust everywhere, veggies limp and tiny.'

Jupiter Bob screeched 'Darkledust!!' so loudly even Old Man Darke at the bar looked up from his glass of ming.

Darkledust was the fine film that jacketed the town every single dydd of the week. No pawb knew where it belched from though some whispeyed about rumbling at the top of Mount Beddwell, beyond the foresty slopes, the Eggychurch and the fat clouds near the tiptop.

I'm supposining it might be time to siarad a little about the small town of Beddwell. Let's fillet your bonces with the basicallies.

Beddwell nesties its fat arse at the bottom of Mounty Beddwell, a smearage next to the crapsicle, if you see what I'm siarad about.

...