Dear FHM, How do you get yourself a job like that?

So, a while ago I started thinking it might be interesting to do a bit of investigative journalism into a subject that I came across, well, more accurately, was sick across (or is that unnecessary info?) as I was idling through a copy of FHM. This particular edition had been bequeathed to me after it had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and I had drunk more red wine than my body could contain. Though it was not as badly damaged that you couldn't still read it, because, who reads vomit covered magazines. That's just revolting. I digress.

I was caught by the image below. It reminded me of a Glamour, or a Cosmo magazine I had read before in which I'd witnessed a triptych of Barbie and Ken in wildly inappropriate, though helpfully demonstrative positions. It was crude and laughable and you can imagine that the office had a droll little giggle while photographing them. However, the illustration in FHM struck me as somewhat above the bar of expected content, and so I went about finding out exactly who had done it, so to speak.

My research eventually led me to a website and a conversation about sex drawing and washing up mainly. I called the mobile number brashly left on the aforementioned website assuming it would be a fake at best, a sex-line at worst, or is that the other way round.

After no more than three rings the phone is picked up with a boisterous "Hello".

"Uh..." I piped up, realising too late that I did not know this man's real name, that I had no plan of action, or any questions lined up to ask him, even if this was indeed the perpetrator of 'The Swing'. "Cowface?"

"Yes" Returned the voice, entirely unperturbed, as if he often had random people calling him up, which I suppose he might well have, leaving his number lying about willy nilly on the internet.

"Um, I just wanted to ask you some questions," trying now to sound a bit more authoritative but not quite PCC inquisition, "about your drawing for FHM."

There was some banging in the background during the phone call until he informed me he was in the midst of an unholy stack of washing up. I asked if it would be Ok to email him some questions, he said it would be, and although this initial contact, surreal as it was, seemed promising, he never emailed back.

...But, I am now following his blog (mwah ha ha), which seems more lovingly tended than his website, and although I have become a fan of his work in general, it is not over between us. Mr Cowface, expect a barrage (Wonderful word, Barrage. noun. An overwhelming, concentrated outpouring of linguistic communication.) of emails to readdress this poorly handled attempt at journalism.

N.B. I should probably mention that if Mr Cowface, as I think he now prefers to be known, has in actual fact since returned my email it has probably been lost in the ether of my University Intranet that I can no longer access.