Bike thieves saw through my chain and nick it. I buy a new one. The gears are crap. I take it to the shop. They fix them. They're still crap. I go again. The shop is closing. I cycle off. I get a puncture. I push it home. I fix the puncture. I have dinner. Now I'm so knackered I can only spend about an hour on the drawing I'm working on (my first "proper" commission, for "proper" money). To be fair, I still have about a week, though it's amazing how fast time can fly. Hopefully I can finish it this weekend- last night was a marathon session that resulted in finishing most of the B&W draft.

In the meantime-

Alexander Litvinenko- A Russian spy ! Poison ! A leggy blonde ! If only routine massacres in Chechnya for the last ten years had fascinated our media so much.

Princess Diana- Face it, she's dead. If you cried at her pointlessly young death but bought any of the rags that hounded her in her life, then you're still a hypocrite. Now concentrate on turning your guilt into contempt/envy for Jordan/Kate/Robbie/Whoever.

Impending Wogolanche - The photo that's been printed in all the papers this week of a thronging visa queue outside the British Embassy somewhere in Slavowogobongobongoland is several years old. If we can't get the actual words right, can we at least try with the pictures ? It would be ever so nice.

I suppose I deserve it. What other result could there be of reading the Express,other than high blood pressure ?