BrumConvalescence.

Went to a comics show yesterday. I would've gone today and all but my digestive system has collapsed and gone mental and if you add this to the cold I already had, it means I spent today vomiting, sneezing, coughing and farting whilst lying on the sofa and watching the Hulk movie on ITV2( "You wouldn't like me when I'm Ang Lee!") , instead of shuffling around the Custard Factory, bothering people that have met me before and therefore are trying to escape.
Anyway, yesterday, We sold all of six copies of MC2 between us. Very Poor. I caught up with many of the faces I hadn't seen since the last con at Bristol. I met two people I'd only previously known through this blog stuff. They weren't weirdoes, either! I executed my secret Santa obligation with extreme prejudice, and I bought Dave Gibbons a pint of Boddington's on the night. (See the picture of us both on the left, a comics legend standing next to Dave Gibbons. Snap taken by Stevie Wonder. I'm the one on the left.) Oh, and I might have bagged myself a gig which means I can give up my shitty day job and live at my drawing board instead. I may be working with an up and coming writer named Charlotte Bronte. More on that later when I know more about it myself. Still it's worth celebrating-bottoms up!

(Right. Back to the sofa. The good thing about being sick is that you're allowed to not go to work. It's just a shame I'll spend tomorrow watching Jeremy Kyle and Cash In The Attic whilst spewing my ring up.)