Space, 1969

Is there a more apt shape for the journey undertaken by man’s mighty space probe?

Is there a deliberate symbolism here, to be read by alien species and understood as a statement of our virile intergalactic intentions? Perhaps it’s just like when you draw knobs in the dark light with sparklers on bonfire night, but on a grander canvas.

Either way, NASA, I salute you. You’ve drawn a massive knob in space.

Birmingham, November 13 2010

Thanks to Graham for this knob that seems to be have been ground out of some prehistoric pub table.

Nice use of a lightning flash vein down the middle of the shaft. Strong. Manly. Violent.

I’ve just noticed that it’s got a sort of ‘pilot knob’ darting along by its side. How sweet.

Redchurch Street, Shoreditch, November 13 2010

This is what it’s all about. A poorly scrawled knob on a wall in Redchurch Street. Next to a half-arsed anarchy symbol.

Was it the only knob on Redchurch Street that day? Far from it. In fact, if you’re going knob spotting, I’d struggle to recommend a better spot.

And I haven’t looked up that myspace page either. I mean, why the fuck would you???

13 July, 2010

I don’t know the two chumps in the background of this photo. But I do know a knob when I see one on a bonnet. Classic, effortless with a fluid style one could almost describe at Art Deco. Tidy.

October 19, 2010

Pathetic, isn’t it? This pavement dribble. Is it widdle? I don’t know. There’s something terribly, terribly sad about it though.

Thanks Milkatraz

Fulham, London, 18 August 2010

Sometimes you’re just wandering along a road and you see a big splat of white paint and you know the only thing you can do is dance a little knob dance and SPLAT!, there’s a knob. And you walk on your way, happy in the knowledge that you have done a wonderful thing.

Thank you, Knobspotter Martin.

27 April 2010

The fridge magnet is an invention ripe with obscene potential.

But I don’t remember ever having seen anything quite like this before.

It looks like it could be kind of literary: avant-garde poetry, to be read aloud in a monotone by a naked, bearded Ginsberg-a-like, bouncing his flaccid cock about as he goes.

And then it’s got that funny little turd next to it which makes you realise that’s just plain rude.

Thanks Riley.

24 April 2010

Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

And sometimes that means painting a monumental cock on the wall instead of getting on with the DIY.

Top work.

Copenhagen, 25 April 2010

What is is about the Danes and their offensive drawings?

This a pretty artistic effort I reckon, breaking with some of the classical conventions of knob scrawling.

Strong lines, redolent of Robert Motherwell, perhaps. And a radical departure into elliptical balls.

Excellent sighting. Happy holidays indeed Knobspotter Martin.

Archbishop Tenisons School, Harleyford Road, Vauxhall, 24 April 2010

What can I say? Casting a knob in iron, and inserting it into the railings around a south London school?

That takes a certain kind of genius. A disgruntled former pupil, perhaps? A sneaky smithy? Or just a bit of subconscious Edwardian-era filth?

This is also clearly visible on GoogleMaps, it turns out. How many more knobs lurk there?

Top spot, Raffin.