Hot White Junk

2012-01-27T15:26:00.000-08:00

We Are Wild Interview

2012-01-13T05:34:00.000-08:00

http://wearewildphoto.com/#2590983/Pete-Killingbeck

2012-01-04T08:23:00.000-08:00

2011-12-28T08:35:00.000-08:00

2011-10-02T12:40:00.000-07:00

2011-09-07T10:30:00.001-07:00

2011-08-30T07:03:00.000-07:00

2011-08-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

SGP

2011-07-30T09:53:00.001-07:00

Latest Exhibition Halseys Deli Hitchin!

2011-07-20T01:14:00.000-07:00

2011-05-31T15:46:00.000-07:00

2011-05-31T15:44:00.000-07:00

2011-05-24T14:56:00.000-07:00

2011-05-17T15:11:00.001-07:00

2011-05-16T13:34:00.000-07:00

lighter, longer, better..

2011-04-28T15:50:00.000-07:00

2011-04-06T06:35:00.000-07:00

HEY! new lo-fi photo zine

2011-03-16T14:04:00.000-07:00

2011-02-21T12:47:00.001-08:00

Polaroids

2011-02-16T11:49:00.000-08:00

new photo zine!!

2011-01-26T06:15:00.000-08:00

To get a copy of my latest zine you can contact me by email - mypedro@hotmail.co.uk

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

2011-01-20T16:27:00.000-08:00

•••••••••••••

2011-01-20T16:18:00.000-08:00

outwiththeoldinwiththenew

2011-01-07T03:37:00.000-08:00

Bavaria

2011-01-04T08:52:00.000-08:00

2010-12-15T10:03:00.000-08:00

DANCING SKULLS

2010-11-21T08:07:00.001-08:00

åpres...

2010-11-21T03:44:00.000-08:00

2010-11-21T03:37:00.000-08:00

I have a goal in life...

2010-11-21T03:24:00.001-08:00

2010-11-20T17:03:00.001-08:00

for the mothers..

2010-11-12T08:52:00.000-08:00

†wo Pøunds wo®th of Doner Ple∆se!!

2010-11-08T08:15:00.000-08:00

2010-10-31T04:56:00.000-07:00

http://www.baisermag.com/2010/10/peter-killingbeck/

2010-10-27T08:48:00.000-07:00

http://www.huhmagazine.co.uk/view_article.php?id=1063&s=art&t=photography

2010-10-27T08:33:00.000-07:00

http://wornvandals.tumblr.com/post/1138897753/peterkillingbeck

†hømas Alexan∂e®

2010-09-16T09:57:00.000-07:00

M•j∆ca®

2010-09-09T05:56:00.000-07:00

2010-08-17T07:07:00.000-07:00

2010-08-10T07:51:00.000-07:00

∆ recent show ∆

2010-07-13T08:42:00.000-07:00

¥ le soleil ¥

2010-07-08T11:23:00.000-07:00

James Powderly - The Creators Project

2010-06-15T12:58:00.000-07:00

Definately a must see. Check this out. Awesome Digital Graff artist. Totally inspiring! Powerdly used to work for NASA and has used his experience and knowledge to invent an eye controlled Laser projector, which is being used by a Paralysed Artist..Absolutely mind blowing technology & Art.

link - http://thecreatorsproject.com/creators/james-powderly

2010-05-24T02:37:00.000-07:00

2010-05-24T02:35:00.000-07:00

2010-04-26T06:37:00.000-07:00

2010-04-22T03:08:00.000-07:00

vice guide to film - vbs this week!

2010-04-14T09:14:00.001-07:00

This shit is Gold!!

2010-04-14T08:59:00.000-07:00

2010-04-08T09:58:00.000-07:00

2010-04-05T15:38:00.000-07:00

2010-03-15T07:14:00.000-07:00

2010-02-23T06:38:00.000-08:00

2010-02-18T11:05:00.000-08:00

2010-02-03T10:09:00.000-08:00

Thomas TTT

2010-01-27T10:59:00.000-08:00

Coming to a Takeaway near you!!

2010-01-26T05:48:00.001-08:00

Images by Adam King

2010-01-26T05:25:00.000-08:00

Spectacular Waste Cases Pt 2

2010-01-26T05:18:00.001-08:00

2010-01-23T08:26:00.000-08:00

2010-01-23T08:05:00.000-08:00

by Pete Killingbeck.

2010-01-18T03:06:00.001-08:00

2010-01-08T19:46:00.000-08:00

2010-01-07T10:19:00.000-08:00

I <3 Osterreich

2010-01-07T10:12:00.000-08:00

2010-01-04T03:02:00.000-08:00

Nativity in Black

2009-12-22T09:21:00.000-08:00

Spectacular waste cases.

2009-12-20T05:12:00.005-08:00

2009-12-14T06:16:00.000-08:00

plant/window

2009-12-04T07:25:00.000-08:00

^^^^^^^^^^^

2009-12-04T04:19:00.000-08:00

hannah

2009-12-04T04:09:00.001-08:00

untitled - by Pete Killingbeck

2009-11-30T10:12:00.001-08:00

images by pkillingbeck

2009-11-04T09:23:00.000-08:00

2009-10-24T07:42:00.000-07:00

Yeasayer - Tightrope = Fresh

2009-09-13T13:25:00.000-07:00

**************......................^^^^^^^^^^^^^

2009-09-13T03:36:00.000-07:00

Being drunk feels so much better.....

2009-09-12T03:51:00.000-07:00

Feet..

2009-08-06T06:14:00.000-07:00

Fun and Sunshine, there's enough for everyone......

2009-07-30T18:30:00.001-07:00

Untitled - by Pete Killingbeck

2009-07-30T07:29:00.000-07:00

Matthew Augustus (gus) artwork and interview! coming soon issue 1

2009-07-29T10:20:00.000-07:00

Epitome of a Pedro!!!

2009-07-17T19:16:00.000-07:00

Requiem For a Cider! Tom Fairhurst/Pedro

2009-07-17T18:58:00.000-07:00

No Sleep till Morning!

2009-07-12T06:36:00.000-07:00

From ' We are Students' a piece i did on life being skint, young and slapdash!

2009-06-19T09:22:00.000-07:00

HWFashion

2009-05-31T13:33:00.000-07:00

Portrait of a drunk swimmer....

2009-05-29T04:23:00.000-07:00

Redneck Bonfire!!

2009-05-29T03:59:00.000-07:00

A British Seaside Chalet

2009-05-12T02:38:00.000-07:00

hwj plans!

2009-04-26T05:55:00.000-07:00

Dan Francis suggests that if we 'cycle' with idea (do you see what Dan Francis did there?) of going from Venice to Rome, we could do a trip like this.
1. Drive the Venice 16hrs ish, do that in one hit.
2. Camp in Venice, get a gondola, write some poetry and sort the bikes out.
3. Hit the road to Rome, Dan Francis will be driving this leg on his own. Dan Francis would have all the kit. Dan Francis has no idea how long it will take you guys to cycle 330 miles. Dan Francis guesses 6days?
4. Get to Rome, Dan Francis will guide with Satellite navigation system.
5. Have a little party, drink some espresso, have a pizza, slick back our hair and get a spray tan. Dan Francis will probably catch a show, something operatic he feels.
6. Jump on the ferry and cross to Barcelona, roughly costing us 50euros each, with car. Cutting only about 100miles off the trip but it would mean being in Barcelona and Dan Francis feels that could be fun for all
7. party in Barcelona make a little love, dance a little bit, basically get on down. Dan Francis will of course be spending his time in the museums and viewing the beautiful architecture.
8. Drive back from Barcelona in two days. 16hrs ish.

Dan Francis thinks this whole trip will be about 12-14 days depending on time spend in major cities, one night in each in a hostel will cut costs.
Dan Francis this when it comes to cost, channel crossing is about £120 return, Rome- Barcelona £160. Fuel cost £250 (Dan Francis doesn’t know how much petrol costs on the mainland). Dan Francis thus thinks this will cost us about £150 in travel costs. Dan Francis will then need to add in toll roads/accommodation.

Dan Francis does think we will need a trailer with three bikes/camping stuff/petes face cream/ clarkies tash comb/ tedris lederhosen.

If Dan Francis takes the job he is thinking about there will be a company car, company = company insurance= any of you fuckers can drive it (Pete pass your test you git)

Dan Francis would like to thank you for reading and hopes you enjoyed his ideas.

Photographs by Jodie Southgate

2009-04-03T06:35:00.000-07:00

Deutsch Literature!

2009-03-23T12:44:00.001-07:00

Franner's Rant!

2009-03-23T12:32:00.000-07:00

Its been pretty irritating this whole health kick thing, i sat down to get two of my 5-a-day. first step - a banana, this should have been easy until the cunt slipped out of my hand and hit the deck. Im sure the comedy of old tells us that the banana skin the slippery part the falic style monkey bummed part. As a rule if anything hits the floor you have three seconds to pick it up, this applies to everyone. I know Gordon Ramsey frequently drops stuff on the floor and wacks it on the plate as good as new. We have three seconds, its the rule, dont get snippy.
After my slightly fluffy banana i moved onto a clementine, this is a small orange, second cousin to the satsuma and had a one night stand with a kumquat (they used protection but i am still very interested in what the offspring would taste like). Clementines as a rule are pretty easy to eat, unfortunatly mine hadn't been told. This may have been due to a lost email or text message. It took me a good 10mins to get the ruddy thing out of its little orange clothing, i could have sex in that time (including shower and cuddles). The little fucker didnt want to strip in one piece, there where small bits of orange pith all over the shop. I finally got into it and put my first segment in my mouth. Usually segment in, chew, swallow, next segment or at worst segment in, chew, crunch, fucking pips, swallow. This orange juice devil had not one, not two but THREE pips in it. Whats worse was this wasn't a single mutant wegde but everyone i bit into had three or four pips. I counted 26 pips at the end of my fruit feast! People, for shits sake fruit it is way to fiddley, who thought eating a pineapple was a good idea its spiky and has a green afro. Have you seen a dragon fruit? ugli fruit? fucking hell passion fruits will spit in your eye as soon as you come near them with a spoon. Finally KIWI fruits, nobody likes them they taste like water and have a weird crunch.
Stick to meat.
(please be aware I have no idea if Gordon Ramsey uses the 3 second rule, please Gordon if you read this dont get angry and come and kill me)

'Derelict' - by Pedro

2009-03-16T08:07:00.000-07:00

My good mates heinrich und matteus riding their fools!!

2009-03-13T19:47:00.001-07:00

Hot White Junk's very own tedri mcdougal and thom clarkois!!

2009-03-13T19:36:00.000-07:00

Satan's Gern T-shirt's

2009-03-12T17:20:00.000-07:00

T-shirts designed by Hot White Junks best mate Satan or formerly known as Adam King. He enjoys Deutschland, Ron of Mcdon and backgammon like us! here is the link to his redbubble ja!

http://www.redbubble.com/people/mangakid/t-shirts/2464357-3-holy-burger

Standalone Farm

2009-03-09T06:02:00.001-07:00

Last time i went was when i was maybe 9 or 10, so a decade on i decided to check back in at Standalone farm. It hasn't changed much and made a rad outing! These images were taken for a uni project using 50mm fixed focal lens. Yunk!

Not Full Circle but Elliptical - by Baar Rupert

2009-02-25T15:17:00.000-08:00

‘Bäär, is there anything you'd like to share with Heisse Weisse Junk?’

Yes. The cash machine next to the Rose and Crown is a classic model, the kind where you can’t tell if, nor where the inevitable skimming device begins and ends because the plastic has been melted and knifed beyond recognition. It absorbs a bankcard like an old Dutch stripper doing a trick with her rickety sphincter. Once you have withdrawn your meagre funds for the night it begins to distend it similarly in the most disgusting manner. Personally, I snatch it out with no ceremony because by that point the shame and guilt has already begun to kick in. I don’t want to encourage the thing, and I don’t need to make things worse by watching my plastic become a case of touching cloth. It makes the whole transaction feel sordid and unsanitary. Like I’m being paid to watch.
Shortly after I am huddled in The King’s Arms exterior, where I spend the first half of my night allowing my toes to numb. The beer garden is molested by the sounds of happy hardcore remixes of chart tunes from the pub’s speakers, though I have never understood why, as I think it is only the one bouncer who gets into it. The interior, where I retreat to after is full of fairy lights which blur pleasantly to counteract my alcohol intake and ongoing, mild and gentle confusion.
There is a strange equality in the air these days, one I have to admit I don’t feel entirely familiar or comfortable with. I guess because any inequality comes from me. I tend to growl at people too much when I don’t mean to, fumble for names and suffer from too much déjà vu to make any memories of this town feasible or reliable. Faces ring bells, and people I shared desks with greet me. But anything else about them has left what precious room is reserved in my head for thinking solely, unrelentingly about myself, so I flounder. It is not everyone, of course. But still…
Did you study German with me? How old would she be now? Didn’t he punch Sam in the face on Christmas Eve down the Hart? Who did I used to hang out down the multi-storey car park with? Was it you I was with when we met that kid on Windmill Hill chewing the condom? Wait, was I there? Or did someone else tell me about that?
My friends from college in Cambridge, now all relocated to London, know that story better than I do. I must have told it when I first joined. But it’s just plain fucking weird to go to a basement bar in Soho and be regaled with episodes from my own life, especially ones that even I am not sure of anymore, by people who were never there and will never know those present, since not even I know who they were now. Though I did at one time, apparently, and I was sure of that reality.
Or at least I think I was.
And then I realise I can’t even remember telling them these stories in the first place. Does everyone just remember everything I don’t? Or was I ever really there mentally when I was there physically? Did I ever get to know these people properly, or them get through to me?
At this point the six-foot-four man by the doorway grabs my shoulder to stop me getting past him because he has been demanding a photo of me in my striped bobble hat after bellowing Where’s Wally into my face and I have taken it off and told him to go fuck himself. It is an ugly scene which I am only half tuned in to because I am realising that a lot of my current life is spent constantly lost in memories that are probably distorting further and further. Especially the more I choose to envelope these new and old moments in alcohol or particular moods.
I have never been in a fight.
Maybe I have spent so much of my life focused on the future that I ignored the present; now that inertia has gone and life has caught up to teach me where and why I am wrong I am left treading water staring into a hazy past I’m not entirely sure I was around for.
Maybe it’s time to go?
‘Don’t fucking push me mate!’
‘Then let go of my fucking shoulder.’
‘I’ll fucking knock you out mate. Why are you being a cunt?’
‘You’re not taking a picture of me, now let me get past.’
‘Don’t fucking push me! I’ll fucking knock you out! You should lighten up, you fucking cunt.’
‘I’m trying to get to the fucking bar, you’re not getting a photo, now let go of my fucking shoulder and let me get past.’
‘I’ll fucking batter you, you cunt! Oh, oh okay! Fine! Fine, you know what you can do? You know what you can do?’
‘I don’t care, let me past.’
‘You know what people like you can do? You know what people like you can do?”
‘WHAT?’
‘You can FUCK OFF!’

Maybe it’s time to go.

‘You heard! You can FUCK OFF!’
And this is when I push him square in the chest to knock him out the way and shout in his face as I walk past:
‘THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO DO, YOU FUCKING PRICK!’
Maybe it’s time to go.
But I stay for two more because it is warm and fuzzy inside, it makes my eyelids relax and the fairy lights are dandelions. It is crowded with bodies and music I can't make out and I greet and hug many on my leisurely exit, people I know that I know, even if it has been too long and there is nothing in that time and distance between us to try filling the gaps right now. So I talk with them, but make sure it is about them and not me. What can I say? My own words are feathers, floating and without much substance.
It’s probably time to go.
So yes, there are things I would like to share. I’m just not entirely sure they are mine to share in the first place.