Gloomy, hot thunder-stormy Friday and I’m sitting in my muggy studio struggling for jokes. Hasn’t been a very funny week.
Digital watercolour sketch
…unless they have paper tablecloths.
I awake daily with excruciating plantar fasciitis because I was born an old man and my body hates me.
So I went to my unusually funny podiatrist who took one look at my foot, said "Oof." then wrapped my entire right foot in gauze and athletic tape. She said "Keep that on for four days," then she narrowed her eyes and growled, "and whatever you do... do not get it wet."
That night I attempted to shower.
It was a nightmare.
I don't have the core strength, nor the flexibility to hang my foot out of the shower and balance on my other foot while trying to bathe. I danced around on my soapy toes like a drunken chimp until I slipped over and bruised my arm. Water dripped down my leg and onto the floor, flooding the bathroom and saturating my bandages.
Shakespeare wrote, in King Henry IV, Part 1: "Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip"
I don't know what it means, but I'm pretty sure he's making fun o' me.
Bruised and battered, but not defeated, I gave up on showering. For the rest of the week, every day was...
That's three Ms.
My dear friend, theatre director, voice-actor, and dialect coach extraordinaire Leith McPherson, started a brilliant rant on Twitter against the increasing spate of phlegm-based interruptions to theatre shows in Melbourne of late.
It made me laugh, and it tickled my onomatopoeia-o-meter®.
The rant is preceded by:
To all my cartoony friends at San Diego Comic Con this week - good luck! Hope you have a fantastic time. I wish I were there with you. This is the first SDCC I've missed since moving to the States. I'll see you all at New York Comic Con in October!
Here's my sketchbook from last year's SDCC...