I was going to head off to the Pocketbooks show over the road, but in a sudden moment of reparation I checked to see if there were actually any tickets. Well, I looked on Facebook and uncle Ian had left a message the other say saying there were a few tickets left and they were selling fast, so I kind of assumed it would be sold out and there'd be no way to pay on the door.
Instead, well, I used the ethernet cable from father dearest to hook up my old 2004 desktop computer to the internet so I could suddenly use all my peripherals like scanners and graphics tablets and big old monitor and stuff in Windows XP and I set to work drawing this idea of a story I had for ill theatre.
As you'll already know, ill theatre is this kind of webcomic, stream of consciousness personal blog what I started this time last year. The original idea was to used a limited pallet and colour cycle it a wee bit each day, adding an extra colour after each cycle. Got bored and gave up regular posts months ago.
Oh there were some neat storylines, mostly related to my quest to get back on the now defunct messageboard bowlie, sometimes involving time-travel and sometimes involving invading castle bowlie with an army of giant spiders, as suggested by uncle Tasty. And then once safely reinstalled in castle bowlie, which bore a bit of a resemblace to the Buffalo Bar, ill theatre covered my rather idiocycratic attempts at getting back in touch with girls what I used to know. And then finally the fall of bowlie in fiery flames with uncle King of Patrick patrolling the battlements with mighty broadsword whilst the kids escaped by whatever means was possible.
Anyhoo, whilst ensconsed in this illustrated internet world, there would always be a hotair balloon floating in the distance, this was supposed to represent the idlesphere. There was an aborted attempt to float up and have a looksee what was going on, but I kind of lost interest before I got round to it.
All that is pretty much ancient history now. Bowlie sank and whilst it lived on in the irc chatroom for many months, since I lost my irc-powers in early December, that was the final kind of nail, but my own blogodrome lives on and carries me to ever more exciting adventures.
This is me in my blog balloon watching the chatroom sink beneath the waves.
And here's my balloon floating over a maelstrom that may or may not be the North Pacific Gyre
This is my blog balloon getting dragged into what may or may not be the North Pacific Gyre, whilst in the distance North Harrow watches in silence.
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