Sunday, 9 November 2014

Monster from the Deep (and Spinning Around)

Unfortunately for The Heid, I can be annoying for most times, in a kind of, “slightly wrong in the head” kind of a way.

The first one this evening was as he was straining the mixed veg over the sink, I popped my head in-between his view of what he was doing, the strainer and the “smoke” (although as Heid corrected me, the steam, which is really what I meant but it came out as “smoke”) and made some kind of crusty old gurn face and asked if I looked like a “monster from the deep”.

The “smoke” was just asking for a monster type gurn face to be put in it.

The second evolved into a very long winded process. 

The simple request was, “Thom, could you pass me a couple of bowls?”

Rather than acting upon the simple ask, I proceeded into a “what would you do” scenario.  So instead of replying, “Yes my Heid.  I shall pass ye the bowledge” I instinctively began turning in circles and in this episode of “What Would You Do” I said,

“What would you do if I had a disease that meant I couldn’t stop turning round in circles?”

And so, frustrated Heid stood at the cooker, still bowless, as I tried to pick the two bowls from the dishwasher while turning round in circles.

It’s actually more difficult than you think.

(And incase you’re wondering what Heid’s answer was to “What Would You Do” it was, “I wouldn’t be here to answer that question”)

Sunday, 2 November 2014


Halloween treat.

This clip is not quite how I'd planned.  I'd say about 65 percent how I'd planned.  It's not like the quality would have been any better, but if you can imagine lots more zombies, some sexy camera moves, a soundtrack that would have included a kazoo, casio keyboarding and mouth trumpet, and a bit of dialogue at the end in the style of a jolly Yorkshire man going,

"Eeeee, that were good",

then you're almost there.

Whatever way, I'm sure I'm championning the legacy that is Mickey J.

He would have wanted it this way.

Sunday, 26 October 2014

The Stick

Most mornings I do enjoy the morning walk to work, cutting through a delightful, decently sized park that allows the avoidance of the junkies I would otherwise meet along the way.  And it mostly consists of me talking nonsense about things that are usually bumming around in my noggin while Heid looks on, thinking his own thoughts and hoping that I either make sense at some point or just give him some peace to wake up properly.

Well, Monday past, I was running late. 

Heid was having none of this and left, leaving me to rummage around the flat, swearing like a swearer because I couldn't find either my keys or wallet which then ended up being in my bag where I last left them.

Keen to catch up with the “long left ago” Heid, I made like a hip waddling speed walker for the park.  And there he was, a glimpse in the distant horizon. 

On this particular morn there had been a storm the previous evening and branches, leaves and sticks were simply just shat all over the park path.  (I should add here, while running/waddling through the park in “intent on catching up” fashion, I did infact REALLY enjoy stomping on branches creating a tiny bone crunching cracking sound, while in my head videos of 80s adventure movies were playing and I was taken to some jungle type scenario where I was running away from a big boulder that’s been set upon me by some baddies)

Before I had a chance to begin a running commentary of said boulder and baddies, I saw before me a corker of a branch layen “a-strew” by the park path.  And despite its pleas of, “LEAVE ME!!  DON’T TOUCH ME, GO AWAY!!! BECAUSE YOU WILL LOOK LIKE A MENTAL IF YOU BEGIN RUNNING THROUGH THE PARK WITH ME IN YOUR HAND”

I didn't listen.

The plan was instantly formed in what I deemed to be amusing which was catching up with Heid from behind and poking him up the arse with the stick.

There were several flaws to this plan.

1)  Heid had made good distance by this time, meaning I would really have to run far more than I would like in order to catch up. 

2) To others enjoying/not enjoying they’re morning park walk, I would just look like a woman running through the park with a big stick. 

3)  I wouldn't exactly describe the “stick” as a “big stick” but more like “part of a tree” seeing as it was around 6 foot long with several other branches and leaves still intact.

Still did it though.

Took both hands to hold it and run at the same time which made me move in a slightly unbalanced mental run type way.  
Despite this, I was running and laughing at the same time to myself because the image of what I may have looked like was amusing me.  (I will just say at this point, my fella, “The Heid”, was not any closer).

When passing/running/hobbling past a couple of council park workers, although I have the will to run through a park with a 6 foot branch I didn't have the will to meet their gaze, but I did see out from the corner of my eye that the heads did turn and the sight of me laughing to myself and running around with a stick managed to stop their conversation.

Still.  Onwards I ran.

Unfortunately, I blew my own cover, and as the branch tip barely met Heid’s arse, he turned round in time to see me out of breath, bent over, laughing with a 6 foot part of a tree.

Oh well.  Plenty more days ahead to be stupid.

Sunday, 5 October 2014

Letterbox Biscuit Face

I think what you have to do in life is take the ordinary and make it extra-ordinary. 

Take for instance the evening cup of tea accompanied by the Tesco own Fruitcake biscuit.  NORMALLY this is an act where you may be sitting, or you could be a little more “riskae” and stand, but preferably you are slobbing on the couch infront of some shit on the telly when you know you really should be doing something else.

Not me.

Often my fella and I like to improvise around a situation.  Why do something in an everyday normal day-way??

In this case, my mouth was improvised into a letterbox for the biscuit letter to be posted into.  At first, it was rather fun not only genuinely trying to make the mouth an accurate rectangular shape, thus imitating the casual letterbox, (do this infront of the mirror.  You’re not, not going to enjoy it) 


...and receiving the neatly rounded biscuit letter in full, but then the whole action seemed to develop into a fully rounded scene.

A little something like this…(in this instance Thom be the letter box, fella: the happy biscuit letter poster)

Happy Biscuit Letter Poster, of course whistling like a Happy Biscuit Letter Poster should do, strides toward letterbox that waits expectantly at the bottom of the street (we don’t have a street in our kitchen so, obviously, there’s a lot of walking on the spot action going on) reaches the letter box, pulls biscuit letter from pocket and begins posting action in a thoroughly self-satisfied way, but 


Halfway through posting action, biscuit letter has to be retrieved because, wouldn’t you know? Happy Biscuit Letter Poster has forgotten to put the much needed stamp on.  And do you know how annoying that is to have a biscuit letter being posted in your face and it not reaching the bottom of the letterbox?


Anyway, in the end, the letter was received and never read because it was eaten before it got to where it had to go.  And I’m not sure where that was.

Saturday, 16 August 2014

Thom’s First Outing.

So.  Thom finally got an airing.  Out in public.  At the ol' Dublin Comic Con.  

I would say all and all it was a thumbs up situation.  Billy Bumface was certainly a hit. 

Who knew?
He came about because I had Jeremy Kyle numbingly on in the background and ended up drawing a face that looked like an arse, thus, Little Billy Bumface was born.

I have to say, one of the most thrilling moments among all the manic organising for the Con was having to get work from the printers and hearing them reel off the list of my order.  The conversations went something a little like this,

Printer Man: “Hi, I have your order ready.”

Thom: “Great!”

PM: “ So we have 4 T-shirts of Bumface, 3 prints of Alice Crab, 5 of Jesus and 5 of Monkey Face Barbera.”

I’m sure Jesus never expected to be wedged between Alice Crab and Monkey Face Barbera.

But certainly it was interesting to hear and see the reaction of people.  I have so many Thom things and situations bubbling around in my head, to me it makes sense, but when you bring it out into the real world of things you kinda never know how Thom will exist out there.  C’mon world, make a space for Thom.  Even if it’s just a dusting. 

I had a buddy of mine who popped over to my table for a chat.  As well as doing Thom comics, I’m also a painter/animator kind of thing.  

I referred to my Thom stuff as normal.  

To me it really is.  I have this dialogue that rambles around in my head, where sometimes I’ll look at someone and a name or a poem will pop in there.  I don’t have control over it.  I see people and things as cartoons.  Or maybe more cartoon opportunities, but certainly if you were to put a stethoscope to my head, it would probably sound a little bit like R2D2 crossed with a 1950’s science fictiony theremin machine.

Thom head sounds

Anyway, here I am, displaying my goods.

You’ll notice the expression on the face.  See that there, that’s me doing a normal, “someone’s taking a photo of me, look relatively presentable” face.  I have a zoomed in example below. 

I am known for not being sensible in photos, because I do not like having my photo taken.  So it's easier to do something that I feel more comfortable with. 

"What, you like look at the camera and smile, that's it??  That's CRAZY."

  (Although the above example is me looking as sensible as I could possibly muster).  

And I have felt this from being a tiny Thom.  

Mumsie has a photo of brother and I in her bedroom.  We are standing almost back to back.  Bro is slightly leaning over, making a grimace that makes a kind of oval shape mouth, with a humbug clenched in his teeth, screwing up his eyes making them all…squinty like.  I’m making a similar expression, slightly turned to the side, minus humbug, with my hands and arms twisted in some mental dancer type fashion.

That’s as close to a family portrait as mum got.  Looked a bit like this…
(I can't stress how accurate this actually is)

So for this reason there was and are very few photos of Thom and Bro at the parentals, Mumsie being especially particular when it came to the ol’ school photos.  Actually she refused to buy them because they were so awful.


“I’m not having that in the house.”

The End.

I would have to say, I agree.  They were pretty bad.  My nicknames at school were Saliva Kyla (had a lisp akin to Sylvester Cat, which I sorted out myself thank-you very much.  That’s another story) and Baldrick from Blackadder.  I was tiny, scrawny, spotty and frankly kind of mingin.  But I was also feisty and balshy and it was all in kind teasing.  None of it particularly bothered me, but it did mean my school photos were shit.

(I kind of forgot there why I started this discussion.  Bowie’s Life On Mars was playing in the background and towards the end I started making a kind of alien noise to myself by flapping my tongue about and going, "blagh-blagh-bleaugh-bleugh-bleugh" until it made my fella turn round and look at me with an annoyed quizzical look which was good timing because I was going to finish anyway because as I said at the time,

 “ Just creeped myself out there”.  

Couldn't stop the noise but I was starting to freak myself out because it was sounding too alien.  God I’m tired.  Need to finish this)

Right the point was, Thom, display, Comic Con.  Yesh.  So leading on from photo opportunities and me, actually sorry I have infact totally forgot what I’m going on about.  Sorry have to go back and read this.
Actually it still doesn't make sense.  I’m away.

Good luck.

Sunday, 9 February 2014

Jewels Crush Saga

This is a TOTAL saga.  The procrastination saga.  So many things to do, so little time, so many addictively coloured shapes moving around  on the screen blooping and bleeping when you get more than three in a row, which causes them to explode in a glittery shmlittery shower of broken JOOOOOLLLZZ.   

Jewels keeps me from bed, and I HATE going to bed.  There doesn’t ever seem to be quite enough time in a day.  After a certain time at night if I don’t order myself into the covers I end up doing lots of things that make no sense and are just a waste of time just to prolong the process of having to start the process of bedtime.

I caught myself the other night standing in the middle of the room in a half sleep state running my fingers through my hair to make it go in the opposite direction it should go, creating that weird pain sensation.

That was bed avoidance.

After that I proceeded to go to my computer and have another game of Jewels.

 That's the kind of conversation thats happening in my head 90 percent of the time.  Not sure what's happening during the other 10 percent.

Sunday, 2 February 2014

Saturday, 25 January 2014

Humpback Thom

I often catch sight of myself in a shop window and sigh in despair of the humpback that’s growing there.  It’s my “stoop”.  It's very difficult to keep an upright posture and I’m increasingly growing the stance of a turtle.

If I don’t try and “straighten up”, sort myself out, my future is increasingly looking like this:

That’s from years of schoolage and humpbacking, haunched shoulders, drawing and doing homework on the floor rather than use a table and a chair like a civilised Thom.