After two years of frenzied webcomic activity, I’ve had to dial things down for a little bit for self-preservation’s sake. For three weeks (Mon-Fri) I’ll be running Steeple strips (Steeple Lite, if you like) that will begin to utilise the pile of ideas that don’t really fit the requirements of the plot-driven Dark Horse series. I apologise in advance for the slightly lavatorial start to this story next week, I promise that it is going somewhere other than the sewage treatment works.
Archive for May, 2022
I had three goes at drawing this comic. I was at a low ebb. Also I was unmotivated because it was too toilety. I’m highbrow, I steer clear of the peanut gallery, and frankly this one gave me the pip. There is a brand new 22-page Steeple special (“Reverend In Love”) by me and GIANT DAYS artist Max Sarin now available as a PDF two ways:
More details in the news posts on the main page.
Full disclosure: I struggled with drawing this comic too, and had almost given up. Things were already lavatorial and I was ill at ease as you will recall. But after inking it, I felt that the drawing of Brian turning off the toilet stop-tap was quite artful, and I rebuilt the whole thing around it. By the time I’d finished, I was quite proud of my little pictures.
Drawing Magus Tom as a floating egg entity was the moment I knew I was back in the game.
Pop Tarts have always seemed to me to be the ultimate triumph of convenience over edibility. They’re horrible, they burn your tongue, and all they do is save you the effort of buttering and applying jam to a piece of toast. Do they resemble food? I suppose they’re a good way to get quick calories into earthquake survivors.
Look at that lovely fry-up. It’s got it all: pork logs, pork sheets, toadstools, mini-beans, potato grease-duvets, self-murder bread, bisected orb, fried eye and scrambled eye.
Budleigh Salterton is a real place, it’s in Devon, Cornwall’s natural enemy. As you will see from the official guide to South Devon’s web page on B.S, they are flagrant in their use of the grocer’s apostrophe, providing yet more ammunition for Cornwall’s slings and arrows .