Options.

(click the image so you don't have to squint at the writing, yes.)

Sometimes things are unavoidable. Even crossing the ocean won't put off the inevitable forever. Besides, I'm a lousy juggler and look kind of suspect with a red nose on.

Frank Honesty And Acquired Tastes.

An oldie, but a goodie.

The post. Not John Hurt.

Oh, alright. Both.

Ashtray voices make me weak at the knees and fuzzy of thought. And what's so wrong with wrinkles anyway? There are very few people where I could see a wriggly, toothy, blood-covered beastthing burst forth from their chest and still get the cosmic horn about them. So thumbs up, John. You're in a very select club there.

All Aboard The Fail Boat

Today hasn't exactly been the best day I've ever had. It probably would have been better if I hadn't left the coccoony softness of my duvet. But I did, so here are some pickings from my sketchbook to try and ease the pain.

Hunky Chunk of Monkey

Because the first week of August wouldn't be complete without a psychotic grinning simian.

Or maybe it would. I don't know about how you like to garnish your lives. Maybe you would prefer a giraffe called Fran, who wears a jaunty hat and smokes Djarum blacks whilst regailing passers-by with witty banter in clean clipped tones. Sadly such a giraffe does not exist. My monkey will have to suffice.

Hair Bear Stare

I have been having dreams about dark woods and bears. Angry bears. Not the kind I'd want at my tea party.