Zt!

I wish my cats could do this. Instead they rampage around the front room chasing after anything that flutters or buzzes, sending DVD cases, photo frames and ornaments flying. Heaven knows what's going to happen when we get to Daddy Long Legs season in a few weeks time...

Click Click Click Click

Another gag inpsired by a photo in the Day by Day cat calendar -- this one a backview of some kittens with their tails handing over the edge.

I was fascinated by Newton's Cradles when I was a kid. I never had one but if you were in a shop in Tunbridge Wells in the 1970s and could hear a 'Click click click' sound coming from the gift section, you could pretty well guess that's where I was.

This is an example of why cheating at artwork doesn't work. The idea was that the gag would be helped if the cats stayed in exactly the same position in each frame and only the tails moved, so I drew one frame and then photocopied it another seven times. The result is, frankly, lifeless - compare it with 'Tail Jive' two weeks ago, where every iteration of Smith was drawn individually and it looks much better.

Inevitably...

Right. That's that little fad officially over. Next week: Tail Jive Gangnam Style.*
*Not really.

Tail Jive, now in colour

Here's the first of the Sundays, and what could be more appropriate than to begin with a redraw of the first Smith strip ever to be published. The version below has been seen before on this blog, it was first published in the 1981 edition of the Skinners school magazine, "the Leopard". I much prefer this redraw, which has overtones of Andy Warhol about it, and a minimum of movement lines. Besides, Smith's learned a few new dance moves over the years...

The fickle finger of fashion

This is very me. You'll always know when a particular trend has ended - it's usually three hours after I give in and join in with it.

Flying the flag for Chumley

This week's series is an adaptation of one I did when I was drawing Smith the first time round as a teenager, and apart from some recasting, and some cutting, it's stood up pretty well. However, todays strip is brand new - just before I started drawing it I decided the gag wasn't good enough and came up with a better idea, one which continued the story.

The original strip (dated Friday August 28 1991) is below. The cat taking Chumley's place is Max, another cat from the neighbourhood I lived in. Max's character was a sort of less extreme version of Scrumpy - he was a vent for my teenage angst. I think I prefer the much more happy-go-lucky Chumley we have now.

The outsider

Chumley finds himself in the unusual position of cyclical outsider in this run of strips. Normally that would be Smith's role, but as the kink fashion specifically concerns Siamese cats he's one of the insiders this time.

U

Does anyone still talk about things being 'U' and 'Non-U' any more? That's my staunchly middle class Tunbridge Wells upbringing coming out, I'm afraid.

Click!

Oh you lucky lucky people. You're going to get twelve cartoons on the blog over the next fortnight. You'll find out why next Monday, but in the meantime, the strips I was planning to run next week have been pushed forward to join this week's.

This is the first of a run of six. The second one you see underneath was going to run on Comics Sherpa, but it didn't seem strong enough. It's essentially all set up and no punchline, and the rest of the story still makes sense without it, so I've cut it from Sherpa and just kept it as an extra for the blog. Say thank you.

This week's story is dedicated to anyone who thought London Fashion Week was ridiculous. (My spies tell me that includes a lot of the people who were involved in it.)

The tailometer

Once again based on observing my cats. This is the state of play between Smudge and Gizmo at the moment. If Smudge has a toy she likes she won't let anyone else have it no matter what. And she'll communicate her displeasure with her tail very succinctly.

Tails you lose

Tails are useful things but sometimes they must get in the way. Cholmondeley in paticular never quite kept his in control.  He would often sit with his tail soaking in his water bowl and not realise it until he moved away again. And there's a reason why his nickname was 'poo-tail'.

This is more a case of Smith becoming conscious of his tail. Isn't it funny they way you can suddenly become conscious of a bit of your body you've never thought about before. Your little toe, for example. How's that doing at the moment? Not itchy? Not feeling too confined in your shoes? Not too sweaty or cramped?

I may have just ruined any chances you have of walking naturally for the rest of the day...