I got shat on today. It was a good day though. People have a superstition that if a bird drops one on you then it brings good luck. I must be the luckiest son of gun around, I get at least one every day. From people. It doesn’t bother me though. I am a toilet after all.
Feeling a bit bunged up, someone just wiped then went for a second dropping, so they had to wipe again. I seem to be swallowing more paper than usual these days so I’m often a little clogged. Continue Reading.
To celebrate 50 years of Spider-man this month here’s a little something from my comic. Click on the thumbnail or look in the ‘Sketches‘ tab for the full size image.
I never usually colour things in but thought I’d get the crayons out for a change. More sketches here and here.
I can’t believe no one has used the ventriloquist idea before – if you see anyone using it you know you saw it here first folks!
Willsmith and Nightly
Everyone needs to read this. I’ve got the newest celebrity gossip in this story. Continue Reading.
Rooms magazine did a very nice feature on Eat My Shorts last week, which you can read here.
They also hosted last week’s story; HMP illustrated by Faye Twine.
Take a look at their magazine online and in print when you want to see what’s what in the art world.
I live in HMP B——. I spend most of my day sleeping or watching television. I watch what my cellmate wants to watch because I don’t want him to fight me again. It was a novel experience to me, his facial expression, his movements, the feelings on this body, even for days after.
I am a visitor from another planet, we don’t have a ‘name’ to speak of like Earth does. In fact we don’t call Earth by that name either. I am here for research purposes, until or unless I receive orders from my superiors, I have no violence planned. If I was to be ordered to fight however, I would not be alone. I don’t think this would be likely from what I have seen. There would be little gained by either party. I could kill this man in my room if I needed but it would not help me or my cause at the moment. Continue Reading.
I hate listening to people’s telephone conversations. I get so angry about it. I don’t want to know the one-sided details of someone’s life. The passenger in the seat next to me was never going to be a buddy for life but he has definitely damned himself, with this loud pointless conversation, to remain in the list of people I will never like.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those grouchy middle-aged suit-types you see on planes who doesn‘t smile at anyone. I like talking to people and I take so many of these internal flights that I’ve met plenty of folks that I’ve kept in contact with; one even remains a golf buddy of mine. I am, or at least I hope I am, a pretty personal guy face to face.
However, I think that hearing other people’s phone calls is the single most infuriating thing in the gamut of human experience. I could be listening to Letterman talking to God about the meaning of life and I would still get annoyed, if he happened to be on his cell next to me. Continue Reading.