Weekender

The Weekender features the best work, the most brilliant arts writing and some of the more, ahem, irreverent things that dance across our desktops in any given week. All hail the weekend!

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    Would you bloody well look at that? You thought Friday would never roll around again and yet here it is, like the cat that wanders home in the morning having spent the whole night in the cubby hole behind the garage getting chummy with next door’s Tabby, smug, self-satisfied and ready to sit in your lap and purr itself to sleep. These anthropomorphic days of the week, you never know what they’re going to turn up as. Here’s the Weekender.

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    Fun bus, you ask? Yes! The fun bus! Because it’s back-to-school week, and while that predominantly means potentially giving our shoes a polish for us non-attending folk we have been getting into the spirit of it by listening to this on repeat and raiding the stationery cupboard for some fancy new pens with which to draw all over our backpacks. School’s the bomb. Here’s some fun/ridiculous/entertaining stuff we found this week.

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    If you’re reading this then you too survived last weekend’s bank holiday carnage and you’re here, raring and ready for another go! Without further ado then, welcome to our weekly endowment of fun and tomfoolery, soundtracked by this. Enjoy!

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    In London, the August bank holiday weekend is all about Notting Hill Carnival. Whether you’re staunchly refusing to go to it in favour of sitting at home in a grump, the first person to stick gold ostrich feathers to your best pants or already knocking back the “mix-them-in-your-mouth rum cocktails!” and having a bash on your steel pans in preparation (in which case you’re two full days early, chill out yeah?) we’re ready to get you started with our weekly instalment of tomfoolery. Crack right on!

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    If you’re old enough to remember Friday evening trips to Blockbuster with the babysitter (there was none of this Netflix malarkey for us 80s and 90s kids) you’ll remember the excitement of scanning the shelves, a bag of buttery popcorn and a bottle of coke bigger than your torso clutched in hand. Think of the Weekender as the equivalent of the wet-yourself-in-terror scary horror film that you managed to pass off in the Pingu video case; a bit unnecessary, occasionally hilarious but on the whole, entirely worth it. Here it is! Have a good’un.

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    As well as rounding up some of the best creative content on the site for you all week, we also like to send emails to each other with cool stuff we’ve found on ye olde internet. The Weekender is our hamper for you, a hamper of weird videos, funny pictures and cool articles. Basically anything that doesn’t quite fit under the umbrella of art and design. Enjoy.

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    If the weekend was a football team we’d dive headfirst onto the pitch dressed head to toe in spangly silver lycra and leg-warmers and bust out into a rousing chorus of chanting, interspersed with the odd Spice Girls lyric, to get the crowd good and warmed up ready for Friday’s giant victory. As it isn’t, we’re just going to crack open some beers and sip on them nonchalantly for the last, long half hour of the working day, wearing our usual, non-spangly attire, albeit feeling slightly more smug than we did yesterday afternoon. But, y’know, if you’re into dressing like a cheerleader, we can get behind that too. For you select few, get those pompoms good and spruced, it’s almost time!

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    Not that you need to be quiet for this showstopper; if the Weekender was a film, it’d most likely be the grotesque, just-about-legal but nonetheless strange story of a desert island. It’s lorded over by a tyrannical prince clad from head to toe in purple velvet who was incapable of walking three steps without doing the Macarena. He wouldn’t be the only weirdo on the island though, no sir; he’d be accompanied at all times by an a cappella choir of singing and dancing monkeys who happily joined him in his choreography.

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    Ladies and gentlemen of the world, today our fair isle (Great Britain) is experiencing a HEATWAVE. It’s the prime annual opportunity for us to embody every stereotype better nations have about us; that we drink too much beer (true), that we don’t wear enough clothes (also often true) and that we get burnt at the merest glimpse of the sun (see above.) Whether you’re joining us in partaking in all of the above over a slightly too competitive game of rounders and potentially a BBQ’d sausage, we wish you the best fun. If you’re sitting in a deck chair watching disapprovingly over us, we’re cool with that too. Either way, have THE BEST WEEKEND. Here’s some stuff we liek to get you started.

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    Guess what? It’s your favourite time of week again! It’s time for delicious big breakfasts at your local greasy spoon before a hungover marathon run of The Good Wife. It’s time for sitting on rooftops drinking strawberry flavoured cider and swapping silly stories with your friends. It’s time for doing your washing and having picnics in the park, and it’s time, of course, for this week’s fantastic instalment of the It’s Nice That Weekender. Enjoy!

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    HELLO FRIENDS! Welcome to the weekend, the two days a week you get to reflect on your busy, expensive, boring life, and then numbing it with booze and barbecues. Hey that sounded pretty pessimistic, I’m sorry. What I really meant was “OH SHIT IT’S THE WEEKEND!” It’s time to swim in a lido, call your best friend, watch Take Me Out in bed, play Candy Crush in a hammock, introduce your dog to your friend’s dog. You name it, it’s yours.

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    Hi gang! If you’re reading this you’re probably not at Glastonbury, and neither are we so that makes us friends. We’ve spent our weekend listening to Eminem with the air conditioning on, which is kind of like our own mini festival – right? We often wonder what everyone else listens to at work, as we usually go for a heady mix of Simon and Garfunkel, Rihanna and that Bill Wyman song about him seducing a much younger woman. If you have any suggestions of what else we can listen to, or what you tend to listen to as you punch an Apple keyboard with the blunt ends of your fingertips for money, get in touch.

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    If I could, I’d don a sparkly, silver cape and a severe black bob wig while gazing into a crystal ball à la Mystic Meg to envision what all of you lot are going to get up to this weekend. I like to think I’d spot all manner of illicit affairs, summer solstice-inspired weirdness and wild, finger-forsaking parties.

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    What’s happened today, you ask? Well, a live quail chick has hatched from what was thought to be a chicken’s egg, a Kim Kardashian lookalike has taken over as head of a Mexican drug cartel, a poodle wore trainers and, oh yeah, we brought you our weekly fun-package, the Weekender, with a montage of Leo DiCaprio freaking out and an Mmmbop reference. Life’s just like that though, isn’t it? You’ve got to take the highs with the lows. Can’t you tell me who will still care? No you can’t, ‘cause you don’t know. Yes, let’s get on with it, shall we.

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    Know what the best thing about Fridays is? For the next two days, there’s absolutely no telling what could happen. Unleashed from the shackles of your desk like a tiny young butterfly thrust forth from the loins of its cocoon, there’s as much likelihood that you’re going to hop into your souped-up jeep and bounce your way around your hometown in time to a Nicki Minaj song as there is that you’ll end up stuck at home on Saturday night eating shepherds’ pie with your nan and her next-door neighbour Dorothy. Anything could happen, and we’re here to help you embrace the magic. Whether your fate be in the jeep or the shepherds’ pie, let the Weekender take you there.

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    Hello and welcome, and what a fun week it has been. In the It’s Nice That offices we’ve mainly been eating caramel shortbread, watching goslings eat flowers, drawing pictures for the guy in the cafe down the road and making fun of Printed Pages editor James Cartwright for how he used to be a goth. THEN we found out that it was World Goth Day on Thursday!!! Can you imagine our glee. And so, this week’s Weekender is now 100% goth-themed. Apart from the bits you might have missed, they’re just normal.

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    If Monday afternoons are the squashed spam sandwiches that your mum tucks into your lunchbox and that you physically retch while trying to swallow, then Friday afternoons are the fish and chips that you will continue to eat until the whole damn bag is empty, and you won’t stop short of licking the greasy paper from. (Still with me?)

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    Let me set the scene for you. It’s the summer of 2003, you’re sat out in the park with a WKD blue, your mates are absent-mindedly kicking a ball around and you’re trying to hide the spare cardi that your mum thrust at you before leaving the house in a conveniently-placed nearby bush. It’s not even that cold, anyway. You’re listening to this absolute banger of a song. Altogether now: “So baby gimme that toot toot, lemme give you that beep beep…” Welcome to the Weekender.

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    Welcome, weekenders! What are you doing this time? Going for a nice drive? Going to museums? Or just doing absolutely nothing? If it’s the latter, we’ve prepared a real feast for you below, with video clips and nice articles to get you through the weekend. So get into bed with a bottle of wine, get your laptop on your chest and enjoy this week’s Weekender.

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    You know how eating a pile of fish and chips makes you feel like if someone pushed you over and you fell on a puddle you’d drown? Or how watching scary films makes you feel like you can’t go upstairs? Or gossiping behind someone’s back is really mean but really fun? Well, the Weekender is there to make you feel warm. Not nice warm, uneasy warm. The warm you feel when you run for the bus in a polyester turtleneck, or the warm you feel when you arrive on said bus and sit on a seat to find yourself asking “Is this heated?”

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    Hey guys! For us Brits in the UK it’s actually a Bank Holiday weekend right now, which means we’re going to spend the next four days drinking shandies in the sun and being forced by children to hunt for eggs in damp, pansy-ridden back gardens – fun! The Bank Holiday gives everyone in the UK a feeling of magic, a tickle of fire in the belly, a feeling that anything and everything is possible. And maybe it is. Let The Weekender guide you into what could be the best weekend of your life.

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    Hello! Here we are. How’s your week been? Great, great. Yeah not bad, thanks. Playing Monument Valley mostly, mixed in with listening to a lot of Beyonce, talking about Nirvana and washing out our dirty tupperware after use, drying it, and placing it back on the shelf where it lives. We thought it might be nice to accompany this Weekender with a song, so before you read on, press play on this lovely Weezer cover by naughty Mac DeMarco.

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    This week has been something of a historic one over at It’s Nice That Towers; not only did the days start getting longer (not that that’s historic, it happens every year) but we also had our SEVENTH birthday! So to celebrate, we’re bring you a weekender that is, in the words of everybody’s favourite TV chef, well and truly “chocka” with all the best stuff we’ve posted on the site this week, plus a few extras that you might have missed from out in the interwebs. Like a beard with stuff in, and a melancholy feline. Altogether now: “Haaappy birrrthdaaay to ussss…”

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    Oh hello! Welcome to the best bit of the weekend: the beginning! The whole 48 hours is spread out before you like a tray of hot crumpets or a long road to the sunset. What will you do with yours? Walks? Collages? Sausages? Trampoline? All of the above? Speak for yourself. We’re going to sit in our pants and countdown to drinking o’clock like every other weekend. Do you want a slice of cheese on that, luv?

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    Gather round, children, it’s the Weekender! Remember party bags full of birthday cake smooshed in soggy Noddy napkins, balloons pre-covered in dribble by your over-enthusiastic musical chairs competitor and shiny hats plonked on begrudging heads? Well imagine the week is your party, and the Weekender is your party bag, crammed with all of the bouncy balls and not a soggy smooshed cake anywhere to be found. Strictly good stuff here, kids. We know, we spoil you.

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    What a week! How was yours? Good? Hmm. Okay shut up. It’s time for the weekend, strap yourselves in and get ready for a roller-coaster ride! Well, if you can call getting drunk with your weird friends and doing your laundry again a roller-coaster. Depends what you’re into. This week we’ve been entertained by Barack Obama, the sweet drawings of Mari Kanstad Johnsen and this film where dogs fall in love and sniff each other’s butts.

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    HELLO! Welcome to the Weekender, the thing you read when you’re in bed, scrolling through your phone with a dry mouth and an aching head whilst your other half, or flatmate, has gone out to get orange juice. What we hope to do here is give you some gems that you may have missed this week along with some miscellaneous crap that we’re into and you’re probably not. This week on the site we saw Kaija Straumanis have things thrown at her head, enjoyed this fan art from some of our favourite illustrators and enjoyed this KENZO and David Lynch collaboration.

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    Oh hey guys! Good week? Yeah ours wasn’t too bad either. We watched Geoff McFetridge paint a table while his tea brewed, watched the Sochi Olympics frame-by-frame courtesy of The New York Times and enjoyed this brand new in-flight safety animation for Virgin Atlantic. Fun, huh? We also threw some paper balls around, span on our chairs, hid people’s pencil cases and spat in each other’s coffee. That’s just the kind of place this is.

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    Here at It’s Nice That we’re all about the whole out with the old, in with the new thing. You made that illustration two years ago? Get it out of my face. That painting’s from the 16th century? Never speak to me again. This is why we’ve decided to change up The Weekender to make it less of a weird bin of online sundries and more of a chance for the editorial team to get involved. First the online editor Liv Siddall will be telling you about some features you should have read this week, then we’ll hear what’s tickled the rest of the team over the last seven days. Considering they spend about 99.9% of their lives on the internet, it’s probably going to be good. Enjoy!

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    I went on a quest to try and find the worst date story possible as a kind of mildly rebellious, two fingers up to the whole Valentine’s Day thing. A lot of the stories (mostly found on Reddit) were just really sad, or involved some sort of angry, weeping venereal disease. Some though were true gold. Take it over DrPepperTasteGood, you poor, poor man:

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    You know, in the ancient Egyptian times they used to bury their loved ones with a bunch of objects they may need in the afterlife. There’s been another bout of this kind of thing going around recently, with funeral directors coming forward and reporting on weird requests they’ve had. In the UK it’s more chucking in their favourite lighter, a bottle of ketchup, or the remote. Over in the US things get way more obscure, and better! This Reddit thread has got all kinds of juicy, stories on it, such as "my friend who works at a funeral home got a request to play the “Soul Bossa Nova”, the Austin Powers theme song as they walked out". The Weekender has already submitted its funeral requests, unfortunately we can’t share them with you as they (literally) violate our style guide and put us into the legal equivalent of shark-infested waters.

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    Come, run after us through the pearly gates into the perfumed garden of the Weekender. Here you shall find edible daffodils, singing badgers and chocolate bark concealing golden syrup-like sap. Lie with us on the dewy, emerald lawn and tell us your secrets while we scatter sequins all over your face. A unicorn walks by, the sky turns purple…WAKE UP! You must have fallen asleep in this skip you dirty drunkard. Go and clean yourself up and sort your life out.

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    Sometimes I feel that if The Weekender was a song it would be Avalon by Roxy Music. Imagine Bryan Ferry circa 1974, lounging by a turquoise pool in an ivory suit. A woman in a tasselled negligee walks through the patio doors and tumblers full of ice clink as she draws nearer. Upstairs his suits nestle closer against one another in the large wardrobe. A snake intertwines itself in the legs of his sun lounger. The sun sets. The needle drops and Avalon begins to play…

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    Did you ever hear that story about a woman who dropped her baby out of a tower block window but it survived because it landed on a man? Then two years later the same man was walking past the building and the same baby fell on his head again? Imagine how happy the mother was to find out that the same man had saved her baby twice. Imagine her happiness, times it by 4000, that’s how happy The Weekender is. See you later.

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    Here we are! The luscious weekend! The second in a long, long year of toil and strife. If you think about the year as a long weekend, then January is basically Saturday morning. You know what that means as well, coffee in bed and bacon every meal until Sunday (or mid-June, in this game). Hoozah!

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    Wilkommen to the new year! We’re back! We’ve actually been back for a few days now, bleary eyed and full of gravy we waddled to our desks and began tapping away, firing up the internet for another year of content. Are you excited? You should be. More importantly, this is the first of a whopping 48 Weekenders to come. Not as excited? Fair enough, it is a bit of a weird weekly tradition. We like it though.

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    What’s the point of giving you boring old articles about boring old art and design when you can have YouTube clips and funny pictures about Christmas? Hmm? Exactly. Here’s a selection of festive crap for you to gawp at, like a stocking packed by the internet itself. Merry Christmas everyone! It’s the It’s Nice That Christmas Special Weekender! Let’s start with this.

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    “I don’t look upon this like it’s the end, I look upon it like it’s moving on you know. It’s almost like my work here’s done. I can’t imagine Jesus going ‘Oh, I’ve told a few people in Bethlehem I’m the son of God, can I just stay here with Mum and Dad now?’ No. You gotta move on. You gotta spread the word. You gotta go to Nazareth, please. And that’s, very much like… me. My world does not end within these four walls, Slough’s a big place. And when I’ve finished with Slough, there’s Reading, Aldershot, Bracknell, you know I’ve got to-Didcott, Yately. You know. My-Winersh, Taplow. Because I am my own boss, I can-Burfield. I can wake up one morning and go ‘Ooh, I don’t feel like working today, can I just stay in bed?’ ‘Ooh, don’t know, better ask the boss.’ ‘David can I stay in bed all day?’ ‘Yes you can David.’ Both me, that’s not me in bed with another bloke called David.”

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    You might’ve just crawled out of your office, wiped a week’s worth of coffee remnants and a bit of old saliva from your chin with the back of your hand, you might even be trying to decide whether or not to go home and shower before you proceed to get absolutely out of your tree with your budgie Terence, but no matter how gross you are, the Weekender is here for YOU. Its morals may well be dubious, and it might not be held responsible for its actions, but friends, it has a trolley-load of loosely art and design-related fun for you and it ain’t ashamed to flaunt it.

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    Or, y’know, don’t; it is Friday, after all – you might have had a long, hard week, or gotten a bit too over-enthusiastic with the thermal undies, or spit your lunch all down yourself when watching something really funny, or just not quite have had time to get in the shower this morning. There won’t be any arm-throwing here, in any case. Gross. For hugging and non-hugging co-workers alike, it’s Friday night! Get away from your desks!