THERE ARE ONLY TWO TEA BAGS LEFT! 

THERE ARE ONLY TWO TEA BAGS LEFT! Hey. I'm Barrie J Davies. Brighton-based street pop surrealism artist, accidental paint goblin, and a man held together by caffeine, neon fumes, and the unhinged spiritual energy of a raccoon who has just successfully hot-wired a bumper car and has absolutely no plan for what happens next.Welcome to my podcast. I'm sorry in advance.This is a DAILY podcast. Which is genuinely unhinged behaviour for someone who once lost a coffee mug under a canvas pile for so long that it presumably emigrated, got a studio flat, adopted a rescue cat, joined a book club, started doing hot yoga in Lisbon, and is now emotionally unavailable.There are now 326 episodes of this thing. 326. The pyramids took less commitment and at least they had a clear vision. At this point this isn't a podcast. It's a crime scene with a subscribe button.I also have a website -  http://www.barriejdavies.info   It is, genuinely, the most unhinged corner of the entire internet. Not because it's broken or weird or badly designed — it isn't, it's actually great, I'm very proud of it — but because it is a single human being's attempt to contain, organise, and sell the output of a brain that once spent forty minutes deciding which shade of neon yellow best communicates the specific feeling of a flamingo who has just been told it can't park there. That website exists. On the internet. Where anyone can find it. Genuinely incredible that this is allowed.There are no guests on the podcast. No meaningful silences. No whispering about how the triangle represents emotional collapse while a single accordion weeps beside a chair made entirely from recycled spoons and bad decisions. None of that will happen here. I can't promise much but I can promise that.This podcast has the energy of a supermarket trolley full of spray paint that has become sentient, briefly considered its life choices, rejected them entirely, and is now rolling downhill through Brighton at full speed while a seagull screams existential abuse at a traffic cone that absolutely started it.Every episode is whatever feral little thought escaped my brain before it became a matter for local authorities. One minute: new painting. Next minute: an eighteen-minute investigation into why pigeons walk like divorced accountants who secretly hope their train gets cancelled, derailed, and swallowed by the earth, taking all their spreadsheets with it.The studio currently looks like a children's TV channel exploded inside a graffiti tunnel and then the graffiti tunnel exploded inside the children's TV channel just to be safe. There is paint on the walls. Paint on the floor. Paint on clothes I specifically put on to avoid getting paint on. Paint on the toaster. The toaster has never once been involved in the art. The toaster has done nothing wrong. I feel terrible about the toaster.Glitter keeps appearing in rooms where glitter has never been and has no logical means of arrival. I have ruled out drafts, visitors, and basic physics. The only remaining explanation is that the glitter is haunted, has a personal agenda, and is slowly winning.It is loud. It is messy. There are at least four international health-and-safety organisations that would like a word, and I am not returning their calls.Come join the chaos. Visit the website. Subscribe to the podcast. Do both simultaneously if you're feeling brave. Just know that once you're in, the glitter finds you eventually. It always does.👉 BUY ART HERE -  http://www.barriejdavies.info 👉 JOIN MY MAILING LIST: http://eepurl.com/dbIy6P