Nothing else ever came - nothing that he saw, or felt, or heard

Ah, glorious failure. Always a pleasure to make your acquaintance, pull out a chair, stay awhile...

Another weekend to look forward to, St Pat's passing without half as many drunken children as usual being roused from an unconscious state this morning on the main street, and I actually know this because I was out and about at the time. Yes, sobriety has made me an early riser, that most despised and unnatural of creatures, and my opinion of it thus far is that I don't need to be talking walks down the street to see the day's dog eggs being laid, yet here we are.
I hope you're happy, Jesus.

All this drinking, violence, destruction of property - are these the things we think of when we think of the Irish?

Happy St Pat's, one and all - drink hearty, for I cannot!

Yer just like yer ma - can't take a punch

More talky talk. I intend on being sober tomorrow, y'know.

Some jokes don't need a punchline.

Some of my tweets are ignorant I do it for shock value

Always enjoy drawing somebody raising the roof, especially when it may or may not be on fire.

Ta-da is for when you do a flip or where the magician cuts the pretty lady in half, not when you show someone where you want to shove their dead body

Hate doing repeating panels as I never learn any lessons from where I go wrong. The weekend was the acid test for my sobriety and passed without incident or lapse, though I imagine the real test will be the annual St Paddy's festival of liver and spousal abuse, which should be fun as there is no greater pleasure in life than having an argument with someone who's drunk while you are not.

I wouldn't mind posting my old comics each Monday but I'm on the hop a bit so this week so can only manage some panels from horrific pseudo-manga Fist of the Bear

which I ill-advisedly set upon realising back in the heady days of 2004 when I first bought a computer and thought the internet was made of Manga and pornography (I was only half right as it turned out) and decided to join in. With the manga bit.

This was before I actually knew how to go about such things as scripting, penciling, inking, digitally coloring, and lettering, and when the vast majority of my experience of sequential storytelling came from stories where people shouted at someone while speed-lines exploded behind them.

I would almost describe those old rags as 'manga-like' comics except the art read in the same direction as the lettering, which from what I understand of 'authentic' Japanese comics, is not how they make manga in Japan, as there they have the art going backwards and the dialogue printed in a foreign language. Crazy bastards.

Hopefully, there will be something (marginally) more intelligible than Fist of the Bear featured each Monday here on the blog, preferably from a time when I stopped using pens to ink, as I've been looking through my old stuff and my go-to response seems to be "oh fucking hell, I'm not showing that shit to anyone."

TTFN, taters!

I'm confused - are we investigating a murder or preparing a meal for the Palin family?

This is the longest I've been sober in years - how the hell did I ever used to do this? All this extra energy is really annoying, and what do I need all this extra money for? No way to go through life.

I was heartened in the gym to see the two fitness trainers engrossed by the television as the footage from Japan is shocking stuff and I like to know that people can feel for those in straits, you know? Then I noticed when I went to get my membership card at the end that they were watching a Top Gear repeat. Awesome.

Watching:

Don't bother running - you are already dead

The main thing is that I don't know what I'm doing.

Watching: The Day After - which is scientifically provable to be funnier than the Hangover.