Arse For the time being, this page is going to be a little lame, due to scarcity of appropriate material. But imagine what a mighty oak we could grow from an acorn such as this. Submissions welcome.

High jinx

The veritable Nixta and partner-in-crime Simon The Green, respectively. Revolting.

Bland Buttocks

God only knows what's going on here.

Walls' Balls

Walls' balls, with grateful thanks to the ever luscious Miss Erica "Honey" Winkler, for this fine up-the-kilt shot.

Proffered for groping

Nobody knows why.

Bitten, not shy

The Tequila and Porn party has much to answer for. I'm eliding some images from that night that aren't, strictly speaking, arses, exactly.

Martin Perdeaux

Star of the show

Falling about

That guy in the bar that one time.

Jon "Tartley" Hartley

Sans pants et cum packet. God dammit! I can't find a single photo of my own arse! Easily rectified, one would have thought...

"Bruce Lee" Adcock

Noodled in Grey Bar. We're really scraping the barrel here. Who'd have thought it would be so hard to find photos of people's arses?

Submissions are always welcome, because my photo collection is so weak that I've had to resort to a picture of some bloke with noodles on his chest. In particular, I'd be interested to recieve the following:

• A peach of a photo of Adam Hextall wandering through a party in Cambridge bollock naked. I know for a fact that such a masterpiece exists, because I once foolishly mailed the only hard-copy to Adam myself. Cough it up, Mr Hextall.
• In addition, I was vaguely and inaccurately able to recall an occasion when Simon Dye, Ian Keilty, and my good self scored a triple-whammy using Miles Adcock's Dad's camera at a party in London. When contacted in relation to the incident, Mr Adcock informed me that I could "shove it up my arse" if I thought the resultant photograph would be forthcoming. So much for that idea.
• I do not believe any record exists of my hatrick of performances at Andersen Consulting corporate nights out in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, but I would be happy to be proven wrong.
• My final plea goes out to whoever stole the "Budweiser Bag" from The Border bar on University Bvld, Denver, Colorado, sometime last spring. Not only did you make off with some of the prizes, you scamp, but more importantly, you also escaped with my 2nd-prize winning shot "Tartley Stands Naked on Table in Bar, Hiding his Manhood With a Bottle of Bud." I'll call off the bloodhounds if I recieve it in the mail in the next 48 hours.