Fart

I wrote a long blog entry, wrangling whether a fart joke like this is just the guff of a privileged middle-class kid? or whether that’s a dangerous non-valuing of a nice picture? or whether that’s all duff artthink and I should just get on with things, and keep drawing comics how I want? I couldn’t get it all straight and resolve it (maybe later). For now I trust myself to do that last one, so I’m off with my notebook for a coffee ’cause I’ve got a tricky comic to write.

Yes, I was making fart sounds in my room by myself.

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3 thoughts on “Fart

  1. I don’t do that, but I do blow up imaginary tanks in my head.
    The Ardennes, El Alamain, Kursk. That’s where I go when I should be working on something tricky. Thankfully E is yet to walk in on me doing it. There could be consequences.

    1. I learnt last night that one of my housemates, at least some of the time, thinks about how the rest of the house might be trying to kill him.

      (We’ll have to tone down our operations)

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