Kind of busy right now, starting my first 'proper' job (ie one that doesn't involve cleaning toilets); moving into my retro 50s flat in London, hoping no-one mugs me...so no art for a while, at least not here. My computer and scanner will be at my folks' house until I come to collect them next weekend anyway.
TTFN then.

...and all I left was this lousy piano.

[link]

Is there anyone who HASN'T left a piano up there?

...in that my updates are few and far between, no-one knows when the next one is due, and of course, a faint lingering odor of Cornish pasties haunts the page. The excuse isn't leaves on the line (or to plagerise Bill Bailey, 'fluff from Saturn has formed an inpenetrable casing around the driver's head'); I've been writing two; yes, TWO dissertations, having a holiday, and obsessively watching Green Wing. That leaves very little time for doodling, sad to say. Trains should be running as soon as the signal failures in my brain have been fixed, in the meantime....

....'I see a chocolate Phil Collins popping out of a cukkoo clock every hour to count his Nazi gold'. And great fun it is too.

my net connection in my uni room is down. I have no idea why. I will try the usual WORK DAMN YOUR EYES approach and if that fails, I will hunt down the IT man and he will magic it better.

Also: am now 21 and in possession of a giant chocolate bear with my name on it, which of course reminds me of 'Scrubs' and then leads me to the immortal line 'no I don't have gay jungle fever!' which, IMHO, trumps Shakespeare and Milton.

....and why I hate them.
Because people like The Lidless Wonder stand opposite you, with the harsh electric lights refracting off his glasses and china-white face, not blinking once as he stares with fierce intensity, in case you make a move towards one of the guests HE wants to talk to. Occasionally a lizard tongue flickers between his lips, hungrily.
Because a bald man from some film school was talking to me in a manner that involved shoving his face as close to mine as possible, clearly unaware of what the phrase 'personal space' entails.
Because a tall French woman in a hat decided to bend her knees so she could talk to me at eye level rather than eye/chest level.
Also, not enough free stuff. Sid said he gets free pens as his careers fairs. I got, um, leaflets.

So yes, next time I go to a careers fair I'm taking a big stick and no chances.