Heh, I can share things now with recrimination as the comments are gone. I bought Kamen Rider pyjamas, should have them next week. My mate Colm submitted one of my illustrated blogs to the Irish Blog Awards, to be honest I hate all the other Irish blogs out there, I have no dealings with them, no blogroll or links. Everybody is too busy pulling their pud anyway to read blogs anymore.

My Dead Mother in Space comic on Spazzmoid

Hey hey. Comments aren’t appearing now for some reason. The new site is nearly ready anyway. So if you want to say something to me just write it on a holy communion bread wafer and eat it

Hey chumbles! I misplaced the sketchbook where I drew the last page of ‘I wuzz nicked’ so I dug an ancient comic out of my zip disks.
No Curtains is a comic from nearly 10 years ago and the theme still annoys. I don’t think it’s too much of a problem now but for years you would see it all over Dublin, especially in Tallaght.

Why do these weirdos want you to see into their front room? I think it’s such an odd psychological trait.

Here’s some shit prank call to Bord Gais but I laughed at it. It’s so dopey.

I stopped listening to the news or reading papers about 3 years before I left Ireland, it just annoyed and depressed me. Nothing happens. It’s a small place really. I have heard from two foreigners that lived in Ireland that they found it odd that road deaths made it on to the national news. It got me thinking and now when I check the Irish headlines I do screenshots of examples of just how little there is going on.

Example one: Somebody’s Granddad died

Example two: There have been no accidents.

Ridiculous. I check Google Ireland every morning and then in the night and usually the same non stories are still up there, some times for two days.

Everybody knows that I listen to Stern everyday, haven’t missed a show in three years. My favourite dude Artie Lange is off the show after trying to kill himself and the show just isn’t the same. He has his problems and that was part of the charm, yes he’s a depressed, lying drug addict but he was the highlight of my day. I’ve been making alternate plans for when Sterns $500 five year contract is up next year but now that the final year is without Artie I’m already losing interest.

It’s a killer. The show is still a million times better than any lame radio or TV programme out there and it really eased the pain of having a day job. Each show is five hours so it would cover most of the working day for me. Okay enough with the Stern, it’s like a football fan rabbiting on when you have no interest but even if you don’t like him you can’t deny how good the Robin songs are.

Everyday before she reads the news there’s a new song that the listeners send in and here are a few of the best. Shoot my goo on Robin’s big black boobs.

Related to yesterday’s post. I found these two pics of the crap I painted and drew on my walls when I was 14. Poncho if you’re reading this please tell me you have a picture of the Turtle vs Slash disaster that disgraced your half of the room.

Banana Splits, I was very pleased with this.

I think it was meant to say ‘turn it off or I’ll chop your hand off’. My Da is a keen proponent of randomly painting on walls, one xmas he painted this magnificent Christmas scene all over the kitchen wall and then just painted over it a few days later. We had a huge Care Bears mural in our first house and my older bro had a Roland Rat. I have those on video and will show the world as soon as I figure out editing

“I’m not allowed get wet”

The refrain of pussies in the summer water fights. There was always one kid who was afraid of going home soaking. I was never “not allowed get wet” and hosed them gicknahs as they balwed. Big deal, so your kid comes home wet and has to change their clothes.

I was thinking about this yesterday when I was hanging up some posters. There were kids in my class who’s parents didn’t allow them put posters on their wall and I presume they were also not allowed to get wet. I remember a friend wanted to put a wrestling poster in his bedroom and his Mam said no becasue a pin would make a hole and tape would damage the wall.

Nice.

We were allowed to paint all over the bedroom me and young Poncho shared, and he even began hacking away at the wall to try get into the house next door but that’s a different story. I can’t remember the point I was trying to make. Something about letting kids be kids. I know everybody hates him but Dice sums it up well in this off the cuff lecture. ‘Whack your bag and go back to sleep, wake up and whack it again’.

Let your kids get wet. Although judging by the amount of little knackers in my old estate you’d think they were mogwais.

Ho ho holy shit it’s the most wonderful time of the year again…my annual prostate check! Been following the news in Ireland the past week, floods, NAMA, repossessions, doom agus gloom. I was whinging about the weather here but I have it handy compared some of the poor scamps I heard on Liveline who got fucked over by the economy and then flooded out of their house for dessert.

I put up my tree last week and we decorated it with Sylvanian Families.

And here is my awful xmas card that I sent out to everybody.

All in all it was a great year, thanks for dropping by and slagging me. 2010 sees the massive relaunch of this crummy site with all glossy web 6.9 graphics and crap as soon as the lads from Brightsky sober up. Here is their Christmas video.

Oh and PS: Big deal that Rage Against the Machine is the number one song for xmas. You anarchist you! Who cares if X factor is number 1? People love lame protests. You can all tell your grandchildren about how you stuck it to the man by voting back in 2009, cars on their sides, burning police men in riot gear running in circles. It would have weight if everybody voted for the sound of fingernails on a blackboard.

Well, have a great Christmas.

Poor old Neil Buchanan is either spinning in his grave or counting his bankroll. Art Attack is on the telly everyday here in Spanish. Clever move, half of the segments are wordless, like the big overhead pics he does (which are still Neil in the Spanish version) and the puppet fellow in the museum so it can be sold on anywhere.

I loved Art Attack, Rolf’s Cartoon Club even Draw with Don if I was stuck. Then there was that awful Draw with Tina which was like a day release programme, if she wasn’t doing this she’d be working in a garden centre. ‘Draw a balloon for the head, draw a sausage for the body’. Do me a solid and draw yourself a string of sausages and strangle yourself for me there love.

Seriously, that show is so slow I could feel an anxiety attack coming on. The poor kid who tries to follow it will get distracted by hitting puberty halfway through it, getting a girl knocked up, getting separated and his bastard son would have enough time to finish off the picture for him.

Yeah so I posted a video last week ‘that was on boingboing 6 months ago’. Big deal. I hate that BoingBoing site now, I used to read it everyday until I realised I don’t give a fuck about DRM rights management, Cory Doctorow telling me some awful short story he wrote is available to download, Xeni Jardin is in Peru, flash mobs, lifehacking and Creative Commons. Who cares? Dickheads, that’s who. Lifehacking. The gayest term since bromance.

Yes they post good links and it can be great for 3 or 4 days consecutively but Jesus Christ cool it with the lameness. I read a comic by Cory Doctorow and he’s horrible.

And that Xeni Jardin dope reminds me too much of that twit Violet Berlin. ‘Memba her? Small lisping girl who used to review games and couldn’t pronounce SNES, saying SNED instead. Here’s a clip

Anyway I originally wanted to post this pic sent to from Eoin, he made screengrabs of The SHIZNIT on the telly last year in that ill received Irish sit com The Roaring Twenties. Cheers man

I have to go now and read about Canadian copyright laws and how some cooky guy put a usb drive inside another usb drive or whatever. Like anyone gives a fuck.