IP1 Magazine Issue 32
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ISSUE 32 FREE ip1zine.com Young Beaandutiful A WORLD APART / SAM PEET / TOM RUSSELL / FAUXCIALISING E PLORE X GET ON BOARD! Win a FirstMonth ticket worth £90 To enter go to: www.ip1zine.com/competition Competition closes on 11th Feb 2010 and a winner will be picked at random. suffolkonboard.com suffolk passenger transport Contributors Contents Editor: Howard Freeman ([email protected]) 04 My Greatest Conquest 07 Young and Beautiful Sub-Editor: Andrew Tipp 12 Truth Words: Joel Kurta, Howard Freeman, Emmanuel Ogundiran, Gemma Kappala- 14 Fauxcialising Ramsamy, Kizzy Barrow, Sam Peet, Daniel 16 Cheating in a Chatroom Harvey, Amy Seabrook, Andrew Tipp, Nick Woolnough, Rachel Hyde, Scott French, Natalie 18 Sam Peet Faber, Sam Barker 21 Look Who’s Behind Us Design Managers: Emmanuel Ogundiran, Leah 22 Never Stop Learning Kurta 24 Tom Russell Design: Lozz Berry, Zina Karkasina, Jon 26 A World Apart Quinnell, Mark Nicholas 30 Coffee Addict Illustration: Lucy Selina Hall, Thomas Steward, 31 Best of the ShowOff Emily Boon Ying Tan, Louise Stockton, Shahnaz 32 Reviews Farrell-Mohseni, Chrissie Hawker, Kimbo Photography: Jen O’Neill (cover), Laura Clare, Sam Barker Web: Tom Juby Welcome Advertising: Leah Kurta ([email protected]) IP1 has undergone a little facelift, Pop-punk progressives A World Thanks: Tex from Diablo Ink, Jodie Clipstone giving it sharper lines and a more Apart also appreciate the sexy defined style. We hope you like the things in life like guns; and pictures new look. of Haydn’s biceps - and to a lesser extent Craig’s - can be spotted What’s aesthetically pleasing alongside an interview with this to some people, however, is awesome band on page 26. downright nasty and shabby to others. And, although we’re The ever aesthetically charming confident you’ll like what you see Sam Peet gives you a guided design-wise this issue, you may tour of his illustration, collage and be turned on - or off - by what’s digital works on page 18; while on display in our feature article; performance poet and Ipswich’s Young and Beautiful on page 7. brightest new wordsmith, Tom Personally, I like big bums and I Russell, proves that a thousand cannot lie, but others think tattoos, words paint a picture. piercings, fake tan, fake hair and some good, hard guns are the way Nothing faux, just pretty, good to go. stuff. Supported by Howard Freeman Editor Office 1 All content is copyrighted to the contributors. Reproduction, in whole or 43c Buttermarket part, without the express written permission of the contributors is forbidden. Ipswich The opinions expressed in this publication are those of the authors or persons IP1 1BJ interviewed only and do not necessarily reflect the views of IP1 or the editor. 01473 231079 ip1zine.com Published: November 2009 IP1 Stories MY GREATESTCONQUEST From climbing Christmas trees to stirring soup in front of an audience, five IP1 writers reveal their greatest conquests. My feat was met with widespread about with friends. approval among the growing congregation of revellers observing Every time he moved his pen-hand, my bizarre episode of heroic I tried to sneak a look at the giant, stupidity below. However, the voice evil form on his lap that was I heard the loudest was that of my begging to be filled with an eclectic girlfriend, imploring with me to ‘get assortment of epic failure. down and stop being a knob.’ But his hand hadn’t moved for an And this was the voice I listened to. age, and finally we were almost there... I dived from the top branch and body surfed my way down the I stopped on his instruction. In outside of the tree, plopping out at slow motion his salt and pepper the bottom, unscathed other than moustache moved up and down as for a few scratches and prickly I heard the words I longed for: needles in my trousers. “Congratulations, you’ve passed.” Even the great Santa, in all his years, never achieved such Backa the net! EO dizzying heights. HF All You Can Meat Driving Testicles It arrived on the table like a slate- A tiny trickle of perspiration rolled grey tombstone, a thick, dense down my armpits. Clammy- slab of impossibility. It was my handed, my butt cheeks fused into Foreman, my Frazier, my Rumble in an indistinguishable sweaty mesh the Jungle, my Thriller in Manila. It of clothing, seat and skin. was the biggest steak I’d seen, and we were going toe-to-toe. This was it! The pre-fight stats matter: The I knew I could perform as well as villain weighed in at 1.5kg. That’s any man. I knew how to give off 3.3 pounds of meat and bone, 52.8 the right signals and make the ounces of defiance. It came with right moves. I’d been through the a free shot of cheap whisky and a motions countless times, yet still washbowl. And a mint. my body felt alien to it. Fallen Angel the eight-foot high fence around I asked for medium-rare. I got As my high-spirited friends and the tree. Leaping with might and “Take the second exit at the something half burnt, half barely I stumbled onto the Cornhill we determination, I clawed my way roundabout.” dead. Sweating profusely, I worked were met with the beautiful sight over the barrier. My adrenalin away, bobbing and cutting furiously of the Evening Star Christmas Tree spurred me on through the I followed every instruction he gave as my stomach cramped at the towering illuminated into the night’s scratchy branches to the tree’s me. pain the villain relentlessly inflicted sky. centre, and like a forgotten angel I on my body. climbed the full trunk towards my ‘Ten points for old ladies and “I’m going to climb it,” I declared. rightful spot. children.’ But finally, after an hour and six minutes, I forced down the last I shot off at full sprint towards At the top I was at least 40 ft high. I tried to forget everything I’d joked forkful of fat, flesh and gristle, and 04 ip1zine.com Illustration: Louise Stockton Design: Emmanuel Ogundiran held my hands aloft in a punch- another takeaway pizza, or worst Stirring Performance of ‘trading 4s’ in public was drunk daze while staring at the of all, ‘get out more’. ‘How dare I stroked the skin gently, not weighing heavily on my mind. bloodied canvas below me. It was they bite the hand that feeds,’ I wanting to embarrass myself by over. thought, as I locked myself away in getting it wrong. In the lead up, I concentrated on a dark room and scoured Eastern ‘stirring soup’ for all I was worth For finishing the steak, I won a free Europe for the next young starlet I had been brushing up on my skills and when the time came, I let go steak. that would help seal the European for days in my bedroom but I still and gave it everything. title that continued to allude me. felt it was best to be tentative at I have never returned. AT Consumed by addiction, I simply first. I’d never done it for as much The audience seemed to think it Those Were The Days had to take Ipswich Town all the money before, let alone in front of was fine. I don’t really know what I It started out as a bit of fun, a way. As Danny Haynes powered such a discerning audience. was worrying about! JK way to wile away the hours at uni. in the winning goal against AC Pretend to be manager of Ipswich? Milan in the 2015 Champions It seemed to take an age before Sure, sounds innocent enough, League Final, I sank to my knees, the rhythm settled down, but once I thought. As I whizzed through enraptured by an all-consuming we got going, the audience lapped 336 hours of gameplay in just over relief. I’d beaten the game, I’d it up! three weeks, Football Manager, the beaten the addiction – finally it was most addictive of PC games, came all over. By the time the interval came over all maternal; recommending around, everyone had relaxed, that I change my underwear, order I was free. NW except me – the daunting prospect NBS285 IP1 Advert:Layout 1 16/4/09 08:56 Page 1 Keep fit and have fun at the Jerwood DanceHouse on the Ipswich waterfront All classes run on a drop in basis, so why not pop in on your way to work, in your lunch break or in the evening to try one out. Give blood Work Boost sessions offer a chance for you to relax those muscles before heading to the office in our early morning Yoga sessions, or get Please don’t leave it to someone else energised in your lunch break at Legs, Bums and Tums. 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