Welcome to the Gregorious Music Store
Every item you grab here does more than look good — it keeps the music alive.
These aren't licensed prints or generic designs slapped on cotton. Every graphic here is original work — born from the same creative place as the music. Straight from me to you.
This little store is how I stay on stage instead of driving taxis. It funds the practice, the gigs, the gear, and the stubborn belief that four decades in, there's still more worth playing. When you wear one of these, you're basically saying "one more song" — and that means more than you know.
Thanks for being part of the journey. Wear it loud.
Mr Bin Chicken
This little fella isn't a bloke — he's a bin. Well, he lives in one. Near one. Around one. Honestly, he IS one at this point. Mr. Bin Chicken is Australia's most polarising resident and he does not care what you think of him. He's got a bald head, a curved beak built for surgical extraction of leftover kebabs, and the confidence of a man who's never once been invited anywhere but turns up to everything. He's at the park. He's at the beach. He's at the food court standing two feet away from your chips with the energy of someone who's already decided they're his. He doesn't ask. He doesn't wait. He just takes. He's been called disgusting, feral, a plague, and a health hazard — and he took that personally for about half a second before he found a chip on the ground and forgot about it. Scientists call him Threskiornis molucca. Australians call him things we can't print on a t-shirt. He was supposed to be a graceful wetland bird. Instead, he chose violence and bin juice. He's adapted. He's thrived. He's unstoppable. And somewhere right now, in every city in this country, a Mr. Bin Chicken is standing on the rim of a public bin, neck-deep in someone's lunch, living his absolute best life. You can hate him. You can't stop him. He is inevitable.
Part of The Little Fellas collection — 25 original characters inspired by the little books that shaped a generation.
