And here it is on my bookcase so you can see the scale of it.
I know it's irrelevant to everything I should be working on but sometimes I just feel like making things just for the hell of it.
This evening I was supposed to go and see Woodrow Phoenix talking about his book, but for various reasons I just couldn't make it to Brighton in time. Too scared to go in once it had started, I just went Christmas shopping, marvelling at the notion that we are all broke, yet once a year we suddenly have to spend loads of money buying things for people. Strange, isn't it?
