Posting from my mobile just to see if i can... What a wanker!

Well, you won't believe what happened lat night. There I was on my knees saying my prayers (for I am a devout Roman Baptist as you probably know) and I had just finished my third Pale Mary when who should appear with a pantomime style puff of smoke but Jesus fucking Christ! He's standing there with his spikey headband on and these holes all over the place, looking sad off into the middle distance.

"Dude" I say "you are dripping blood all over the fucking carpet, it's almost new! Here, stand on these mags"

So he stands on the magazines I laid out on the floor and I see the big bloody footprints he's left on my bedroom carpet from the holes in his feet. Well I am starting to lose it at this point because it cost most of a month's wage, and while beige flooring looks really sophisticated and can make your room look bigger, it looks shit with big bloody footprints on it.

I nipped out of the room and came back with a big bottle of 1001 stain remover and a cloth. I started to rub at the stains and sort of forgot the son of man was in my bedroom. After a few minutes I looked over towards him and he was gawping at the images surrounding him. Then I realise that I stood the Messiah on a little island of hardcore filth. Just in front of his left foot there was a full page picture of a girl with half a dozen men coming in her mouth, to his right was a collection of anal penetration closeups, this was quality stuff and, I realised with a start, he was bleeding all over it.

"So what was it you wanted Jesus?" I asked.

After a long pause he looked up, slightly distracted "Hmm? Sorry? Oh, never mind, it wasn't important" he said.

Then "POP" he was gone, leaving me with a ruined carpet and about a hundred quids worth of ruined porn. I am not completely sure but I think he had an erection when he left too, those loin cloths don't leave much to the imagination.

I was sitting on the bus the this morning, passing my stop for the fourth time, and enjoying the feeling of hot wee soaking into my trousers and the bus seat, when a ticket inspector came round.
"Ticket Please" he said.
"Ticket?" I replied, opening a huge tupperware box crammed full of egg moyonaise sandwiches.
The ticket inspector recoiled a little at the stench that billowed up, but manfully stuck to the task in hand.
"Yes, Tickets" he persisted.
"For a seat that's soaked in urine? I don't think so!" I countered.
"You've pissed on the seat! That's disgusting! I Will have you arrested!" he shouted, getting suddenly and inexplicably emotional.
"Don't shout at me, I'm 97 and I can't help it" I shouted back and then bit into a particularly pungent sarnie.
"97? Rubbish!" He said, bamboozled by my youthful good looks
"It's true, I was on Extreme Makeovers, didn't you see it?" I managed to mutter, little wet bogies of egg and bread spraying from the corners of my mouth, "I'd show you my bus pass but I am senile and can not find it".

Well, it all turned a bit ugly then. Luckily I didn't have far to walk home as cold pee-soaked trousers really chafe the inner thighs.

I am going to ring Extreme Makeovers and complain, I don't need this hassle in my life.

So there I was, in the garden, in my wellies, collecting pixies by torchlight. I had my pixie bucket in one hand, my torch/net pixie catcher in the other, and had got about thirty of them, which is about enough for a smallish casserole. I was turning to go back to the house when I heard a commotion from behind the water butt.
I crept up and then stepped smartly around the water butt bringing my torch round to cover the scene. Before me, caught in the light, was a tableau of such depravity I can hardly bring myself to describe it. Suffice to say that poor mouse had been subjected to an extended and frantic gangbanging. She looked up at me, strings of pixie jizm webbing her little face, squeaked and scarpered. The two pixies still plugged into her were dragged along for a while before their double penetration was forcably terminated. They squealed and writhed around cradling their jarred members while the rest of the gang stood staring up at the light clutching their tiny erections and occasionally dripping where the mouse had been.
In all my years of pixie hunting I have never witnessed anything like this, they are filthy little bastard but mouse-rape seems to be a wholly new departure for them. Anyway, I ended up having enough to make Delia's Fruity Pixie Curry and froze the rest, so all in all a good haul.

ooh - five minutes since my last post.

see - I am trying harder.

So... nearly a year since my last post. Anyone would think I am not taking my blogging duties seriously.

What I have been up to, ah, not much, work, new child, blah. Planning to start cartooning again now the dust has settled a bit. New year's resolution decrees I should start trying to get things published, it's a while since I tried that...