Simple pleasures

I always liked "Great Big No" by the Lemonheads, off "Come On Feel the Lemonheads". But today for the first time, I enhanced the pleasure of singing along by singing "GREAT BIG NOSE".

Great big nose!

Still trying

It's now 3 years, two months since I released my black and white Scareodeleria book - the book that was meant to be number one in a quarterly series! Excuse me while I execute a hollow laugh.

I live in hope that I'll manage another standalone project, because although I am pleased with my efforts on daily Scary Go Round, I find the book collections very dense reading. It's nice just to be able to tell a yarn without worrying about getting the quips and snipes in just the right place and ending whatever you were trying to say in the bottom right hand corner of your piece of A4 paper.

This morning I spent £50 and gave myself a headache trying to make one page of a prospective follow up. I don't know about you, but £50 and a headache won't do. At that rate, by page 22 I'd have spent £1100 and be suffering from some kind of aneurysm (probably several).

I should explain that in producing this project, I am attempting to become "the new king of manga". You and I both know that I am not going to become the new king of manga any time soon. Even with the aid of the ministrations of my spiritual guide Mr Godiba (see here), I'm not going to be the new Junko Mizuno.

BUT I WILL DIE IF NECESSARY IN THE ATTEMPT! DO NOT TRY TO STOP ME BECAUSE YOU WILL FAIL! ALL WILL FAIL!



That was less intense than I hoped it would be.

Fancy womerns

I was delighted and excited to learn about today the existence of "Unknown Hinson", depicted below. I have never heard his music, and I think to hear it would only disappoint. Just to know that this man is out there is enough for me.

Tiny little face that may be alive

Mike, who made the little pixel Shelley, also made the Esther below. A fancy thing!

He's a blade, he's a renegade

What happened to my blog? i seem to have abandoned it over the last couple of weeks. I don't suppose anyone really wants to read about how I am eating some Easter eggs very slowly, or how I planted a rhododendron today. These things aren't the fiery facts that force recumbent internetters off their asses and out of the front door full of jellybeans.

I don't think I have any projects to tell you about. I haven't forced another rusting appliance into my back yard.

I did want to say a brief word about t-shirt artist/painter Todd Goldman and his Dave Kelly art-stealing saga. It was a blatant and ugly steal, but the red-faced, hysterical table thumping from the webcomics community, a community that frequently feeds upon licensed properties (when not feeding upon itself), was a bared backside begging to be struck with a banjo.

No one is innocent. Todd Goldman was undoubtedly handed that picture by a studio assistant. When a web cartoonist who has made a tshirt with a Star Wars related design gets a cease and desist letter, it's a badge of honour. When the shoe's suddenly on the other foot, there's a collective move up onto the table with skirts raised - and let the screaming commence.

Go crosseyed talking about "fair use" if you wish, but you'll waste a lot of breath. It's the same thing.

Somersault Notes!

I did a bit more on my poster last night, I worked too long into the evening on it and feel a bit mentally feeble today but oh well.

Eurocamping

I'm working on a new and large poster to ruin your walls. It's early days but here's what I managed this morning - much still to do!

Slug update 2007

Having repelled the slugs from my kitchen, it seemed time in 2007 to turn my attention the devastation they habitually cause in my garden. Who can forget the grisly sunflower massacre of 2001? Not me! So under these auspices I bought some slug pellets to prevent my friends, the slugs, eating anything with tasty leaves and pretty flowers.

Now, these slug pellets claim to be safe for the environment (so long as you don't include the aggravation their intense blue-ness causes to the eye). The packaging claims that "there is no need to clear up slug carcasses, as they will crawl away to a secluded spot to die". This is one of the most impressive boasts I have ever heard. It is also a lie.

My paving stones are now peppered with what I can only describe as baked-on moustaches made of beef jerky. Perhaps I do not provide the necessary "secluded spot". If you have any suggestions on the construction of the mooted "slug chill-out slash death zone", do let me know.