Return Of The Mick.

Umm....hello? Is there anyone still out there? There must be someone, surely.

Ah, there you are. I know it's been a while, but I'm back now. You could at least try and look pleased about it.

Although not quite as long as the famous break between posts on the band Faith No More's blog ("We've split up!" Eight years later; "We're back together!") it has been a long time, and I've had lots to tell you or moan at you about, but I've never really had the time, or if I did, this archaic steam-powered heap of shit that I call my computer would decide not to work. I've been gone that long, I was half expecting this blog to be an ex-catalogue furniture shop when I came back.(That's what happens here in Birmingham whenever a shop gets closed down and left vacant, ex-catalogue furniture shops. There's one not far from here that says (sic) 'EX-CATALOUGE SHOP' on its sign in big letters, and there's another one that lists 'Chester Drawers' amongst the goods they're selling on its cheaply made sign. Surely, if your living is selling ex-catalogue furniture, at least learn how to spell what it is you actually fucking do!)

During my absence I've had lots of things distracting me. There was my Granddad's funeral, mentioned in my last post, which was probably the most emotionally moving thing I've ever experienced. He had a send off he'd have been proud of. I've never been to a funeral where it was standing room only, with people also stood out in the church's courtyard because there was no room inside. Bless him.

There was my trip to the States, which I'll probably tell you about in my next post. It was a trip that encompassed San Francisco, Sacramento, Lake Tahoe, San Jose and Santa Cruz. It was my first trip to America, before, all those place names were just things I saw written on sweatshirts hanging on a rail in TK Maxx (which, I noticed, is called 'TJ Maxx' in the US, strangely.)

There was also a trip to Liverpool, where I watched England get knocked out of the World Cup, went to The Cavern, and bumped into Jimmy Osmond by the statue of Billy Fury on the Albert Docks. It's weird seeing the guy who sang 'Long Haired Lover From Liverpool' actually in Liverpool. It's not as if he lives there, is it?

There was also the book I was working on for a publisher called Insomnia. I say 'was' because Insomnia is now no more. There's still a lot of legal stuff going on at the moment, so I can't tell you any more, but it's all a bit disappointing. Luckily, because of issues I had with the company and contracts and lack of communication, and the time I lost due to bereavement, work and holidays and so on, I didn't really get that much done. There are lots of pages of character sketches and designs and a few finished pages of artwork and lots of hours spent researching and drawing which all now seem a bit of a waste. The writer and I are looking to pitch the book at other companies, so, hopefully, it might rise from the ashes one day.

However, it gives me a chance to get back on with the projects I had to put off because of the Insomnia gig. It might just take me a week or two to summon up the enthusiasm to pick up a pencil again, though.

So anyway, I've decided to start blogging again. Watch this space. And honestly, try and look pleased about it.