It's just a scratch

Back in the days when everything was black and white- and multichannel TV meant you could get BBC2- us kids would leg it out of school at the end of a day of learning all about the new decimal coinage, and head towards the 'venture playground. This would be a fenced off section of municipal woodland, where untrained (if well intentioned) volunteers had cobbled together a youthclub shack and various death trap activities (rickety climbing frames, suicidal zip wires, unattended bonfires etc). The evenings wouldn't be judged a success unless someone had trodden upon an upright 6 inch rusty nail or summat.
These day its all risk assessed activity centres and bouncy woodchip flooring.
Sigh...what chance fun, eh?

This one I drew about 3 years ago (I'm not that happy with the 'bounce' effect, or the whizz lines- but Saga magazine liked it and it's in their latest issue.

Staple jelly

This one, in the current Private Eye, in no way refers to anyone I have worked with- although, maybe...perhaps...some point back in the late 80's...hmm...???

a cartoon

Crikey- I didn't half waffle on in that previous post, didn't I...

Here's a cartoon.

It's in the current Reader's Digest.

Cheers

go team go

The court jester blocked my path- there seemed no way out.
To my left was Copenhagen- to my right, Paris- I towered above the streets- a colossus engaged in battle with evil.
A noise behind me- it was the giant Smurf- his bulk blocked the other end of the path.
All seemed lost. They knew I wouldn’t try to escape across the urban sprawl below me.
I had to keep to the one true path, and not sacrifice the tiny innocents that would be crushed beneath my M&S trainers should I try to run across the cities.
Seeing my predicament, the jester raised his head in triumph and laughed menacingly- the tinkling of the tiny bells in his jester hat adding a sinister, umm... something or other.
Without warning I span round and launched myself at the Smurf- he wasn’t expecting such a reckless move and seemed paralysed as I used his beer belly as a launching pad and jumped clear over his head.
I was away! Triumphantly I hurdled the security fence and was free! I ran and I ran and I ran- to the welcome and safety of The Castle.

Don’t worry, reader- I’m not on the cough medicine again- that was a dramatisation of when I objected to daft team-building games at Legoland- Forced against my will to go, I lasted about 30 minutes before skulking out of the emergency exit and heading off to one of Windsor's many fine pubs instead.

Here's a team building cartoon in this month's Prospect- you have to know that I've ripped off a painting called 'Raft of the Medusa' by Gericault- and that raft building is the cliché of team-building exercises.
Hope you like the pretty colours, even if you don’t find it funny.

it's got a good beat

Ah, happy times…the British summer has burst into its rain sodden freezing cold glory- and yesterday was my annual visit to Royal Ascot, where I lost on every single race.
But, I don’t care- got a cartoon in print again after too long a gap- here it is in this week’s Spectator magazine-

Standoff

from a bloke from Brazil...

Finally had a couple of sales again- phew! But, as they won’t see print for a while here’s another one of my rejects. It’s probably one of those too much ink and not enough think cartoons- I like the drawing, but I guess the gag isn’t that great. Probably too niche for the non car mag market.

In case you don’t get it- look- there’s oil underneath the car- the bloke is talking about a British sports car (you know they don’t work- let’s be honest)- there’s a fan in the garden – their hair is blowing about!!
Oh, please yourselves.