“Hey. Wow. Great balls of yeeaaaahhhh”

Catnip. ‘e’ for cats. Apparently.

I’ve noticed that Smudge, now she’s getting older, is no longer as interested in catnip as she used to be. She’ll stick her head in the tub of dried catnip, give it a sniff, think, ‘that was nice’ and then go off to sleep on her bean bag. Gizmo, on the other hand, is still young enough to be a total niphead. He can hear the box of catnip toys being opened from a hundred yards away. And then he’ll spend the next two hours dancing to deep-garage-trance-crunk-hardcore-portico-grimestep-house music until he runs out of energy and has an attack of the munchies.

I’m not one for drugs myself. Never taken them, never been tempted. I don’t like needles, I don’t smoke and I’ve never been able to swallow pills. Even if I was tempted I’d be crap at it.

Besides, having always been the boring one who never took drugs at parties, I can reliably report that if you think I’m boring, try being on the receiving end of the tedious piffle people come up with when they’re off their little nut on dippy substances.

“And finally...”

Those are usually the words that introduce the last item in the news broadcast - the skateboarding duck or ‘panda that can’t get a stiffy’ section. And I daresay those news items, designed to reassure you that after a half hour of war, insurrection, terrorism and incompetence that the world is fundamentally OK, inspired the skateboard sequence last year, and this reprise this year.

That and the fact that despite being a fat waddly 40 something I love skating.

Not skateboards. They only really appeared in the late 70s in Britain and I was a bit too old for them; they were the kind of thing irritating younger brothers would go for. Instead, I always fancied the idea of rollerskating and never did anything about it, until about five years ago.

I know - most people have a mid-life crisis by buying a sports car or a Harley. I got rollerblades instead.

They’re not as scary as you’d think, especially if you start off by taking lessons. I learned during the weekends with Citiskate at a sports centre in central London, and then moved on to evening lessons on tarmac in the deserted and painfully trendy Spitalfields market. And now, when the weather is OK, and I’m not rehearsing a show (broken limbs ruin your dancing ability I find) I love to go skating along the seafront in Bexhill or Eastbourne. Not Hastings - the surface there is dreadful.

If ever you’re on the prom at a seaside town in Sussex and there’s someone who looks like a cross between the Michelin Man and an urban warrior careering towards you, get out of the way. I’m not completely in control.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible

My internet's been down since Tuesday, so I'm doing this entry swiftly at work. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible - TalkTalk (previously Opal, previously Tiscali, previously Carphone Warehouse, previously Pipex) say they'll be looking into it on Saturday evening.

In the meantime the cartoon is still updating automatically at www.gocomics.com/smith, I have strips loaded up to last till the end of March. I'm hoping to be online at home before that, of course...

Ahem!

Have you quite finished with that Blog yet? I demand some attention and I'm going to sit in front of your screen until I get it.

Just be thankful I'm on your old folder of Millie scripts and not sitting on your keyboard.

Incidentally, have you seen what Gizmo's up to in the front room? I've seen this happen before with neutered toms - one snip and they turn into John Barrowman....

I am what I am
I am my own special creation...

...oops.

Snogfest

Dogs do come across as a bit needy, don't they? And not exactly discriminating. At least with a cat you know you've earned their love - and you'll keep getting it providing you keep paying.

While we're at it, here's a Valentine's cartoon from Riverfields...

A happy Valentines Day to you all.

Mike Pike Essipode 5

Not much to say about this one - it's two parts exposition to one part plot.

What IS the thing that goes 'SQRRRPHLLLGGHHRRRPHLLL'? Find out next Sunday....

Millie No 5

Oh dear. This is an example of what happens when editors get hold of a script and it all goes wrong. This was squidged together from two scripts I originally wrote and to my (possibly hypercritical) mind it just doesn't ring true. Richard speech in panel three comes out all garbled, the compression of two weeks of story into five panels destroys all sense of Richard's anguish at being in an urban wasteland, while Millie's speech balloon in panel five is just embarrassing. I can understand the need to shoehorn her in, this early into the strip's run, but using the word 'Div'??? Honestly!

In retrospect I should have requested a redraw, but I wasn't confident enough to do that then.

Thankfully this was an isolated example. My material still got rewritten occasionally but the editors normally improved on what I had written, tightening it up and making it clearer.

Here are the original scripts:

W E E K   S I X

1. Two removal men, one the same as in the previous week's cartoon, the other in an Iron Maiden T shirt, ripped jeans and no fixed haircut, younger than the first, attempt to get a bulky sofa (MFI, late 70s) in through the front door of the new house. First they try it lengthways, but it won't go in.
SFX: DONK

2. Then they try sideways...
SFX: DONK

3. Then they try turning it upright, but one of the arms won't get past the lintel.
SFX: DONK

4. Millie and Richard stare aghast at the remnants of the front doorway now the sofa has gone through. There are missing brick either side of the door frame (which has had to be totally destroyed) in the vague shape of a sofa. The open door hangs in two halves from whatever hinges are left.
MILLIE: TRUST US TO HAVE A SIZE NINE HOUSE AND A SIZE TEN SOFA!

5. They walk indoors, past the remains of the door, and pick their way thru the chaos of boxes and furniture that hasn't found a home yet.
RICHARD: THIS HOUSE IS A DISASTER! I'M GOING TO CHECK OUT...

6. Richard has just walked out into the garden, and is shocked by what he sees. It's all been concreted over. We see a tatty tarmac backyard and the back of the house, an open back door, the kitchen window, a maze of plumbing, a coal bunker... and no plant life at all.
RICHARD: ...THE GARDEN.

7. Richard walks into the house again with a single weed in a pot. He has a dazed expression on his face. Millie is trying to unpack some records, but looks over her shoulder at him.
RICHARD: THIS WEED LOOKED RATHER LONELY OUT THERE SO I THOUGHT I'D BRING IT IN WITH US.

W E E K   S E V E N

1. This strip is effectively a monologue by Richard, who is having one of his turns. Exterior. Urban. Wide staring eyes and hand on forehead.
RICHARD: ALL THIS BRICK AND STONE!!

2. Richard pushes with both arms against the sides of the frame as if they were closing in on him.
RICHARD: THE CITY IS HEMMING ME IN ON ALL SIDES...

3. Richard is running for his life.
RICHARD: I MUST ESCAPE!

4. Richard looks up at an advertising poster with a lush sylvan scene on it. It would look like he really was in the countryside - only the countryside doesn't peel and consist of weatherboard below knee level.
RICHARD: THE COUNTRYSIDE IS CALLING!!

5. Long shot of roundabout in the middle of a busy traffic intersection. Richard is seen sitting self-consciously on the scrubby island in the middle while the traffic circulates around him.
RICHARD: WELL, LET'S FACE IT, RICHARD, THIS IS AS CLOSE AS YOU'RE GOING TO GET...