The Last Post (for a bit, anyway...)

Hi Folks. I'm girding my loins for what is going to be a hectic weekend. Tomorrow, as usual, I've got to go to work, then I'm going out with my new ladygirl, then, on Saturday I shall be spending an afternoon doing the necessary paperwork, paying the necesssary monies then getting the keys to my new flat. After that, my old mate Mark is coming up from Brizzle and we're going to a concert he bought the tickets for. We're going to see Me First And The Gimme Gimmes, a band I know little about. I'm only going because the dopey pillock bought tickets for himself and his wife, then he realised he'd bought tickets for the Brum Academy gig, not the Bristol Academy, and his wife didn't fancy coming all the way up here. So, me being his vice-Best Man (who royally fucked up his wedding ceremony with a CD player malfunction. It was horrible. I still wake up screaming about that one.) I stepped into the breach.
Then, on Sunday, I'll be moving out of the house and into my new flat. I've got mixed feelings about it. I'm not happy about being away from my kids, but it's probably for the best. I'm not moving far, a couple of streets away. I am hoping it's a new start, and I can start moving on with my life. Sunday night, I'll probably collapse with exhaustion and emotion.
So, because my new flat won't have a computer just yet, this'll be my last post for a bit, but keep checking in, because, like the Terminator and Status Quo, I will be back!

Clobberin' Time!

On Saturday night, I went to see the new Fantastic Four movie with my new lady friend. Wasn't that bothered about seeing it, because the first one was a pile of shit, but seeing as this was supposed to be a date, the other films on (Hostel 2, Captivity, Vacancy and some film about Edith Piaf) weren't exactly suitable, we plumped for the Silver Surfer. I have a very deep fondness for the 60s FF (It was Kirby at his zenith, even more amazing when you consider the amount of books he was churning out month after month at the time), and I wasn't keen on seeing it bollocksed up for the second time.

Now, my new lady friend knows I'm a comics geek, but I think she's unaware how deep my sickness is. When I watch films based on comics I love, I have to split my brain into two halves; the nerd half and the normal half. The normal half thought the film was 'alright', it passed an hour and half amiably enough. The nerd half of my brain was going 'Hate it! Hate it! Make it stop!'

Now if you've not seen it and want to, there will be spoilers so stop reading now. What is the point of adapting a popular comic into a film, then taking out most of what makes the comic popular in the first place? as I said before, I love the old Lee/Kirby Fantastic Four stuff. A highlight of their epic collaboration was 'The Coming Of Galactus!", which the new film is based on. Now, I'm not expecting a totally faithful adaptation, certain aspects of the story, like Uatu the watcher's intervention, (told you this nerdiness was a sickness!) just wouldn't work on screen. But to have a film which spends most of its time building up to a showdown with Galactus, who devours planets, only to have it not happen, is rubbish. And turning Galactus from a giant man with a tuning fork helmet into a big dust cloud with fingers is even more rubbish! The picture above shows you what Galactus looks like, in no way does he even remotely resemble a cloud. A cloud that sticks its fingers into the holes in the earth that the Silver Surfer has made like some giant cosmic bowling ball. After the film finished I was thinking, "who's going to fill them holes in? That's going to take some work." Not out loud, obviously. Like I said, she doesn't know how geeky I really am ! One of Jack Kirby's great talents was his character designs (Along with the FF, and myriad others, he's also responsible for Hulk, Captain America, Thor, X-Men, along with their most memorable villains) and his design for the Thing is great. I love Ben Grimm, he's not your usual tights and cape superhero, he's a big talking turd. The film takes this great design and makes it look rubbish. It's got to be one of the cheapest-looking make up jobs I've seen for ages. Also, when you have such a striking-looking character like Galactus, who was designed by a genius, it seems odd that Hollywood thinks it can do better, and that a big dust cloud is superior. Well it's not.

The film seems designed to do two things. One, it seems to be designed to launch the Silver Surfer into his own film franchise, which might be good. He's a great character and the films based on the comics could be interesting, but Hollywood will mess it up. They've taken liberties with him in this film already. He's gained the ability to phase through stuff, like Kitty Pryde (Nerdy comics reference again!), which, I don't remember him doing in the comics. Generally, though, I thought ol' Norrin Radd looked cool in this film, they obviously spent more money on him than they did on poor old Ben Grimm.

The second thing this film is designed to do is to advertise stuff. the product placement in this film is astonishing. Even the fucking Fantasticar has a Dodge logo on its bonnet!

Also, Jessica Alba is a rubbish actress. She looks nice enough, but she's the weakest link of the FF. They make her wear really unconvincing blue contact lenses and blonde wig, which makes me wonder why they didn't cast someone more talented who is actually blonde with blue eyes. Maybe they should've cast a real talking turd as Ben Grimm, as well. While we're on the subject of rubbish acting, Julian McMahon is terrible as Doctor Doom. Doom is the baddest bastard in the Marvel Universe, but in the movie he's some wooden girly bloke who spends his time smirking and trying to look evil and failing. Thank the Broccolis he didn't get the Bond gig. I did enjoy the bit when he pinched Norrin's surfboard, but it's still not as good as when it happened in the comic. And as for turning Johnny into a type of Super-Skrull at the end- meh!

At least the film only lasted an hour and half, a pleasant change from all the bum-numbing threequels I've been sitting through lately, and it's not all bad. Despite his shitty costume, Michael Chiklis' performance as the Thing is spot-on, and Chris Evans (not the ginger ex-Billie shagger) is great as Johnny, although him walking around with his shirt off makes me feel inadequate, especially when I'm with a lady. My physique is bound to look rubbish in comparison! Saying that though, my physique looks rubbish when compared to most people!

Also, this was the first time in years I've been to a cinema of an evening and without kids in tow. I nearly fainted when they charged eleven quid for two tickets! Bloody Hell! Considering the fact that a new DVD costs about £14 these days, cinemas better stop ripping people off or they will find themselves obsolete. It's got HD and Blu-Ray and surround sound 50" plasma screens to compete with these days, so it better buck its ideas up. Eleven quid!! It's not as if the film was worth it! Basically. If you're not a comics nerd, you might like it, if you are, just re-read the original comic strips. I think they're in the collection Essential Fantastic Four vol.3, which you can get for a tenner, a whole quid cheaper than the pictures, and about thirty times more rewarding!

Update.

Art update time! It's that time again when I tell you how little my comics art career has progressed. The bods behind Jonas Moore (see pic, left) want me to do more pics for them, ones they can 'meld with live action' ( Not sure what this entails, exactly but I think they're going to take my pics and animate them) and it's a paying gig. And now I'm big pals with Colin Salmon,(not really, I just draw pictures of him. He might have heard of me!) he might put my name forward as the next 007, as that Craig bloke is clearly unsuitable. Yes, he was brilliant, yes, he's got the charisma and the sex appeal, and yes, he can handle the fight scenes and the love scenes with equal aplomb. But at least my hair is the right colour!

Anyway, the whole Jonas Moore thing is getting loads of coverage, all over the net (my name was mentioned on the Forbidden Planet comics blog. Us Trimbles get everywhere, like dogshit!) and the print media as well. Apparently, it got the whole of page three in the Metro on Monday (the free paper I never pick up when I'm on the bus, so I missed it. ) and it's been featured in MarieClaire, as well. Another one I missed, for some strange reason. There's trailers for it , starring Colin Salmon and Adolf Hitler (What is it with me? everything I'm drawing tends to have Nazis in it!) on You Tube as well.It just feels weird that this project is all so 21st Century and they want me to beaver away with my pencil and ink brush, their little anachronistic pet pencil monkey!

Also, still beavering away at Septic Isle. At the moment, I'm drawing a page that involves a lot of research into London's council estate high rise flats, which is depressing, as they're not the nicest things to look at , and it's reminding me of a big chunk of my childhood spent in such a dog hole. (That's the problem with stories set in the present day in a city you don't live in. Stories set in the future or in a fantasy world are easier for me to do as I can just make up a building, vehicle or a weapon, but for this story I'm referencing everything including mundane stuff like bus stops to make it at least look like it's supposed to be London in the present day.) Here's some panels from the last two pages I've done: One of Jacob Marley and one of his partner, Maggie Firestone.

That's this update finished. I have to do them, it's kinda why I started having a blog in the first place, but don't worry, I'll get back on to the bodily functions, whingeing and sick jokes soon enough!

A fine line?

Today, at work, there were two collections going round. One for the recently dead colleague, and one for the recently married colleague. We've always had collections for illnesses, retirements and deaths, but the one for weddings is a recent phenomenon. I don't mind giving (if I've got it, of course) but the groom is a relatively new employee, and there's been lots of previous weddings while I've worked there, with longer-standing employees who have had zilch in the way of whip-rounds. Anyway, while I was signing the card for the happy couple ( a boring 'all the best to you both'. When it comes to writing on cards, I turn into Carla Lane ie. I can't think of anything funny to write!) my Humour Tourette's kicked in. All I said was that I hope they don't get the cards mixed up and the happy couple get the card that says 'Our Deepest Sympathy' and the dead colleague gets the card that says 'We Hope You're Happy In Your New Home'. I was surrounded by about five or six colleagues shaking their heads and muttering 'I can't believe you just said that!'
I don't think it's in particularly bad taste, and if I was saying it to my dead workmate, if he was still there, of course, he'd have laughed. It's a good job the offended colleagues weren't there when I said (to another colleague who gives less of a fuck) I'd hate to be one of his pallbearers. He was a rather large chap, with the biggest beergut I'd ever seen. Bigger than mine, even! I'm glad the offended workmates weren't there when I was explaining how the undertakers got the lid down over said gut. I know, that was bad taste. I'm sure it's a coping mechanism. I'm not really a sick bastard. Honest! Anyway, after working there for twelve years, I'm sure my colleagues know me well enough to know I don't mean any ill-will. Hope so, anyway.

What I've Been Up To.

Ahhh, there you are. Not seen you for ages! It's about time we caught up with each other. I've been a very busy boy in the last couple of weeks, so I didn't have the time to tell you about the man at my Favourite Bus Stop with his hand down the front of his jogging bottoms having a good five minute scratch and then having a leisurely sniff of his fingers. Man, I love Digbeth!

I didn't have the time to tell you about the four or five really sexually explicit messages I received through a dating site from a mad woman from Worcester. She went into really graphic detail (it was almost like a biology lesson) about the things she was going to do to me. Seeing as a lot of it involved shoving things into my anus, I politely declined her advances.

Worcester's too far away, anyway! Can you imagine having to walk back with a sore arse?

I also didn't have the time to tell you about the sudden death at 57 of one of my colleagues at work this week, which was a real shock, and strange to think someone you were talking to only the day before is no longer on the face of the planet. The next day, another colleague annnounced that he'd secretly got wed at the weekend (stupid pillock!) so a big portion of the workforce had a big lunchtime combined drink to the happy couple/dearly departed.

I didn't have the time to tell you that I might have a new flat, and I might have a new girlfriend(it's early days, yet) and therefore, might be moving on!

I didn't have the time to tell you about certain cartoonists I know (and work for the kid's comic The Beano) who, when had a few, find it highly amusing to draw tits and cocks on the photographs in the Guardian. I've kept the evidence. I wonder how much they'd give me to keep it out of the hands of D.C. Thompson? We can see the headlines, now: 'Beano In Tits And Cocks Shocker!'

We don't want that, do we? Actually, I'd love it if the Beano was a bit ruder! You could have Minnie The Minge, or Little Plums! Brilliant! (any more suggestions for rude versions of Beano characters are always welcome, I'd thought of Dennis the Penis, which doesn't quite work, and Plug, which already sounds disgusting, and reminds me of the Worcester woman.)

I've also been busy drawing away at Septic Isle, which is going well, except for a panel that's going to be redrawn, as it was rubbish! But that's no biggie, and I'm enjoying drawing it immensely, well, as much as you can enjoy drawing a story about suicide bombers and Neo-Nazis, anyway! Ah, well, back to the drawing board...