I’ve got nothing to say. Well here’s one thing, last night was Christmas Eve for the wacky Spanish. Santa is a relatively new thing here and younger families acknowledge him but the rest wait for the three wise men as we know them. They’re the Three Magic Kings.

We did a Secret Santa thing and I got her sister’s fellah so I drew him this. Cheap bastard!

Did you read the heart warming conclusion to Say a Prayer? If not, prepare those cockles to be tickled

Word em up niglets. This is my first xmas in years that I took time off and wasn’t drawing or working on things and I’m loving it. Playing Onimusha 3 all week like a spa.

Happy new year to you all. Fun fact: In Spain they eat 12 grapes for the countdown and everybody was aghast to learn that other countries don’t do the same. Weirdos. Great comic on Spazzmoid right now
about me whining about Spain.

Came second. In reality I won but due to a snag/nepotism it went to her Mam’s brother in law. She made well over a hundred pelotas but on the day itself two new competitors entered bringing the total up to seven.

So I steamed through them, cautious not to eat to fast or show off, the brother in law shovelling them down as well. Then all of a sudden there’s no meatball’s left and we were both in the lead having eaten 17 each so he gets crowned king because he ate them faster BUT if I knew it was about velocity I’d have disgraced them all.

Check them out, you could fit a kid in that big pot thing

Fatso proudly displaying his Real Madrid bib. My fighting
name is Bob Esponja (SpongeBob cuz I absorb food)

I was concerned about these two lads but I left them in the dust

Ah well, next year. Got some great videos that I will post soon (her Ma wanking a champagne bottle as it erupted being the best clip)

Tomorrow I take part in a meatball eating contest and the pressure is on! I’m the favourite and I don’t want to disappoint. They’re called pelotas here and are around the size of a large egg and I fuckin love them. I wolfed down ten of them two weeks ago and everybody was impressed. Or maybe threatened…

So last Saturday at one of huge family dinners, where its like the Ragu ad, about 14 people at the table passing plates and shouting, my meatball prowess was discussed and the other males became keen to assert their alpha.

Me, Rueben, Pepe, the other Pepe from Ibiza and Paco will be chomping them down like mad tomorrow against the clock. I’ve been training for a few days, trying to stretch my stomach by drinking water and eating. Yesterday I had a kebab, patatas bravas, falafels and nearly two chocolate cakes for lunch then a Chinese for dinner.

I’ll post pics on Monday.

Six months away and I’m coming back for a few days tomorrow. Feels like it’s been longer in some ways and in other ways shorter. Some days it feels like I never left Dublin, drawing away listening to Stern on my own and other days the reality hits hard. When I go to hang out my washing and turn around to see them
big fokkin mountains and the orchards it’s still a shock (clothes dry in about 30 mins on a hot day and I can’t get enough of that)

One big change is wearing clothes, up until last week all I wore at home was a pair of shorts and sandals. The thoughts of putting trousers, boots and a winter coat on feels odd. I gave my boots a try yesterday and it felt like I was walking on the moon. Plus I don’t have to shave any more. The weather here has changed enough to put a jumper on though but you could still go to the beach if you wanted.

I’ve come around to agreeing that drinking small beers is better than drinking pints and a siesta after lunch is the right thing to do. I’m dying for a few pints of Guinness though. One crap thing about Dublin though is the opening hours, here it’s normal to head into town around 10.

I listen to Liveline everyday now and it reminds me daily it was the right choice to get out. See yiz over the weekend, Forbidden Planet in the day and Twisted Pepper in the evening.

I’m going to a bull fight later on. Should be……fun.

It’s a weird thing. I’ve watched a fair few on telly and youtube and I read Death in the Afternoon a few years ago. I don’t know what to think. Yes it’s cruel in a sense but hey what isn’t it?

Bullfighters are like popstars here, in fact they bang all the popstars and singers. My bird is in love with the dashingly handsome chap we’re going to see today and now I’m secretly hoping that the bull eats his face off.

Or tries have sex with him like this:

She spent all morning making a big hamper full of sandwhiches with all special ham and all, plus we’ll be bringing a rake of beer so it’s going to be sloppy either way.

When I lived in Canada as a kid there were a few everyday,normal things that blew my mind. Apple juice came in a huge barrel that had to be pierced with a special tool and milk came in a bag.

As crazy as it sounds, the environmental logic quickly became clear to me and I’m still amazed that the rest of the world hasn’t followed. Here’s a picture (or a pitcher ROFL LOL xxxx!!! Pwned)

I think the Irish and English are too into dairy products to put them in a bag. Living in Spain I’ve noticed the inherent snobbery I have towards inferior Spanish milk and butter. I don’t know what they do to it but they don’t keep the milk refrigerated in the supermarket and it lasts for weeks. Tastes normal to me but it feels weird seeing it stacked in pallets and its warm when you pick it up.

Which brings me to the next diagram. I bought these three items last week. Which one is milk? Its an innate consumerist prejudice we all have towards packaging shapes. I’ve been conditioned. Look at the pics below and which would you reach for? These shapes are no more related to milk than a bag is but the link is there. It’s something you depend on when drawing comics, icons and glyphs. The silhouette of a milk carton on a table easily sets a scene without the reader realising that they’re thinking.

It’s interesting isn’t it? I worked in a place where the toner cartridges came in sleeves shaped like the boxes of the apple pies from Mc Donalds and I noticed it subliminally triggered a fat lad to get a Drive thru at lunch every time I changed the ink.

This cracks me up consistently; the Spanish translations of TV programmes. We will be talking about old shows and whether they made it over here. I wanted to know if Diff’rent Strokes was translated into Spanish and if so, what was ‘Whuz you talking about Willis?’ translated to. Turns it out it was broadcast here under the name Blanco y Negro!

Knightrider is called El coche fantastico which means ‘The fantastic car’.

There are thousands more obviously. My girlfriend is obsessed with Perdidos (Lost). Northern Exposure is called Doctor in Antarctic.

It’s mad. I keep thinking about global pop culture, how in Ireland we are exposed to the same shows as anywhere else. Paris Hilton is as well known in my tiny village as she is in Tallaght. The Simpsons are everywhere too, every time they’re mentioned here the reply is always, ‘yeah I like Los Simpsons but the new ones are shit’

I finally drew Batman for The Eclectic Micks. I realise now that the easiest way to draw this superhero stuff is just hide everything in black.

New SPAZZMOID too

I can’t put it off any longer. Today I have to go get my haircut….in Espanol. Should be fun. I’ve been dreading it for months, that and the dentist. I hate getting my haircut, hate getting touched by some weirdo. I’m the only weirdo allowed to touch me.

Here’s one from the OLD clamnuts site about me getting my haircut by a junkie and woman with no bra.
The slut.

Dear Kitty,

Sorry I haven’t written for so long as I have been busy getting my balls sucked on a beach

Yeah I know, I know. No posts in a few weeks. I have been busy though and I’m really struggling to adapt to the new flavah over here. The heat is a killer. I started Spanish lessons a couple of weeks ago and I think it was a Tuesday when the temperature hit 50 degrees, it was 55 in some places. I left the building and nearly collapsed as the door opened.

That’s not right. The only thing I can compare it to is when you take your Goodfellas pizza out of the oven and you get a woosh of hot air in the face. Well imagine that all day. Pizza air.

I have a fan in my studio that sweeps from side to side and I flinch every time it passes me because I assembled it and I don’t trust my screw tightening abilities. But when its hot it just blows hot air like a hairdryer. I’ve realised that going to the beach is more of a necessity than a pleasure. You have no choice.

Other than that things are good, I’m surviving doing lame design work and this week 2000AD thank God. But the cost of living here is so low, 12 cans of beer for 3 quid, dinner for 2 for a tenner, 20 smokes is 3 quid, the hash is twice the value too. I’m eating like a pig but haven’t really put on weight.

Guinness is CHEAPER here too which really just seals the deal for me. I never thought I was the type but 2 weeks ago I went to the Irish bar and lapped up a few pints. That’s the only thing I miss really. So yeah its all good over here, head is wrecked sending emails all day for work though.

Well I’m getting ‘requirements’ together to revamp the shit out of this site. I have a Joe Duffy soundboard finished for months now and nowhere to put it. I’ll probably be gay and have a Spanish section too.