ten years ago: yesterday i saw a dead person

29 December 2011: In Kensington, I saw a person being put into a body bag on the road perpendicular to the rail line as it leads out of Kensington station. Seemingly the ambulance officer doing the job was also taking their pulse but I'd say they were definitely dead particularly as the ambulance was still there 15 mins later when I came out of the bank. Some passers by were taking pictures on their phones, as you do, and shouldn't. Nearby yuppies were carousing at cafe tables. Kensington.

throw some records away

I feel a culling might be coming. I am presently going through records (mainly 12" singles) to find things to play on RRR on New Year's Eve/New Year's Day, as Carmel Zappia and I have been entrusted with two hours either side of midnight then to entertain the masses. As usual I have no real idea what would entertain the masses but I am quite amused by extended versions of obscure releases by famous artists (so right now I am listening to 'God Tonight' by Real Life, which is their umpteenth single and was from their fourth album, way beyond their initial huge success with frankly their best records 'Catch Me I'm Falling' (and yes, yes 'Send Me an Angel' but I don't want to think about that). 'God Tonight' is a very New Order-y song and while I suppose you don't want to say things like 'anyone could do this', at least you know New Order could do this (it wouldn't be out of place in their canon) and you sort of feel, well I do, that David Sterry is actually dialling it back a bit to not-sing like whatsisname from New Order does not-sing. New Order's 'Confusion' came out in 1983, and seven years later, Real Life rolled out a sort of cod-'Confusion' to widespread yawns (OK I say that but in fact Wikipedia tells me that this record hit the 'US Dance' Top 10, which is unexpected). At least it doesn't sit on the fence like me (I don't know if I like it or not). Maybe I should just not worry. 

I am going to throw away a Barry Gibb 12" ('Shine, Shine') which I was astonished to read on Wikipedia was a top 40 hit in the US in 1984 (what were people thinking, doing, feeling then??!!) and a Blow Monkeys 12", though that's not because of its quality but because it is unplayable, a ridiculous amount of surface noise, would purchase a playable copy. Anyway I might find myself chucking out a few more things, don't worry I'll be sure to let you know.  

* 1/1/22 update - I just realised there is a very close similarity in smug expression between Barry above and my donkey rider in the picture from the last post. Btw this is not what my copy of 'Shine Shine' looks like, mine is a really dog's breakfast of a design. 

trouble

To be honest while I am mildly pleased with how this drawing turned out it causes more problems, what the hell do I do with it now?!

I have no idea what to do with these characters, as well. You can't just leave them lying around unfulfilled. Clearly they have lives that need exploring. For instance, why did their parents give them names with umlauts that are clearly not meant to affect pronunciation? Or how cruel is it in the case of Töd and Tööd if they were meant to. Also, the people without names, what's their story? Orphans from a young age you'd have to assume or otherwise still very deprived childhoods extending into adulthood. 

 

'merry christmas'

I still hate xmas, as I have done for many decades now. There is no way to relax. I do enjoy the days coming up to xmas because they mean that soon it will be past, and once it has passed then there is a long, long time before it returns. But fuck xmas, it's a nonsense. 

I also hate Paul Kelly's 'How to Make Gravy'. 

Today, fb screengrabs like this look very utilitarian but a few subtle redesigns down the road they will look very exotic. 

I am surprised when I hear people say Merry Xmas or even mention xmas because I thought there was really too much presumption. On the last ep of Insiders for 2021 Spiersy wished Josh Frydenberg a happy xmas and I thought, well, that's a bit insensitive though Frydenberg either didn't notice or wanted to take it in the spirit it was intended, not that I really know what that was. I recall a friendly argument with a jewish acquaintance a few years ago along the lines that I enjoyed the benefits of a Christian society which I suppose may be true but I still feel alienated by it but I admit the bible is up in everything that goes on around me so maybe I can't feel pure about that. 

continually surprising myself

Apparently 16 years ago I told you I was working on a graphic novel and I know I've referred to this one since, so sorry about that, I don't really know what's been going on. I thought that when Steve Connell asked me to do a graphic novel last year it was the first time I'd ever seriously embarked on such a thing (though John Porcellino had asked me to do one sometime about 2005, 2006 I think and I just didn't feel I had time to commit to it - shame in hindsight though I probably did other things instead I don't recall). I am tinkering with the next one, which will be a great one, just writing the words and I counted up the characters (because I decided I would do a 'cast of characters' at the beginning, in case it was confusing) and found that there were 42, I mean of those, there are really only eight who are actually important, but they all have a role. This one is probably going to be about 170 pages long, I know it's not about the pages (and whether I will actually have the stamina, capacity, ability to get it done is yet to be seen) but that's what it looks like atm. I can't wait to see it.  

 

more about that flag

 

A more detailed account of what happened on the Sealda, or at least, what some people said happened. 

Brisbane Daily Standard 28 December 1921 p. 2

Picture of the Sealda, above, in 1902 is from here.

samuel hatty acting out

This is a picture of a man called Samuel Hatty from West Melbourne who embarked on the HMAS Shropshire on 20 March 1915. His address was given as 2 Eades Place West Melbourne. Whether this is the same Samuel Hatty as discussed below, I don't know but how many Samuel Hattys do you think died in Melbourne in 1925?

Melbourne Age 19 December 1921 p. 8 

Maybe Trimble had some other reason for wanting to get Hatty a hundred years ago today. To be clear I do not think this is a heinous offence. One month in prison for tearing a stupid flag. So many things to fix when I get my time machine. Butterfly effect though. Maybe without Trimble's bold heroics we'd all be walking round speaking anarchy.* 

Sydney Morning Herald 20 December 1921 p. 9

Sadly or otherwise as he seems to have been a bit of an arsehole, Samuel Hatty is no longer with us. I'll tell you what happened to him when the anniversary of his passing comes around in three and a half years, it's not pretty. 

* Yes I know the red flag is communist not anarchist. 

sneaky feelings 'better than before'

I woke up around 6:20 with two cats on my bed and this song in my head. It is one of those songs (unquantifiable, there are surely hundreds if not thousands) which 'live in my head rent-free' as idiots on tiktok will sometimes say. In my head, it played right from the beginning which by the way is cut off in the video I linked to above, but who knows if that youtube version will last a long time, I don't, the song was 'Better than Before' by Sneaky Feelings.

Of course although the version in my head was pretty fine, I wanted to hear it IRL through my actual ears, so I looked for it on spotify - no. I thought well maybe it's not by Sneaky Feelings and I got that wrong, so I went searching on just 'Better than Before' and - no. Raising my blood pressure was the fact that spotifuck has no faith in my / our ability to remember song titles, so I was presented with numerous incarnations/interpretations of Fleetwood Mac's 'Don't Stop', in amongst songs actually called 'Better Than Before'. So then I gave up on that platform and looked for it on discogs to just establish whose song it was. Yes, Sneaky Feelings, and they do have a couple of LPs on spotifuck but not that one. So I got to it finally on youtube, a video I had never seen/have no recollection of ever seeing, which was/is cut off at the beginning so the bit in my head, the unaccompanied intro, is still only in my head but that's OK. It's a fabulous song, and a fun video of its time (1986), which would surely have been a huge production and I suppose largely improvised on the spot ('and then there were these school kids who just showed up' etc). (+ subtext 'you couldn't do it these days, they'd all need notes from their parents'). I've never been to Dunedin but I assume this is a sentimental journey from anyone who lived there in the mid-80s. I bet in real life it wasn't so washed out. 

The other SF song I always really loved was this one. But reading about them on wikipedia it sounds like their two most recent albums (the only things of theirs on spoti) are critically acclaimed by people with taste, I think I should check them out and if you like, or I do actually do this, I'll get back to you about it.  

any day now/ ensilumi

This is a really fine movie about asylum seekers in Finland which is apparently based on the writer-director's own experience. However even without the pervading tension/fear that dominates the film (the family is waiting to hear if its request for asylum will be granted) it would still be a very impressive coming-of-age story. The actor who plays Ramin, the young boy at the centre of the film, is Aran-Sina Keshvari and he is excellent, but the whole cast is tremendous. I saw this about a week before Helene and I was trying to place Laura Birn, who's the star of that film, and finally I got it - she has a small part in this as Ramin's teacher. 

It's called Ensilumi in Finnish which means 'first snow', to my mind a better title than Any Day Now which puts focus on the family's wait for news of their status, rather than on their experiences in a new environment, though I am also intrigued by what is not mentioned in this film: not once is there an explanation of where they have come from or on what grounds they are seeking asylum, etc. That's actually fine, but does it make us as an audience start to regard them as 'everyfamily' or does it make us wonder why even more? 

Note the first quote on the poster above which translates rather rattily via google translate as 'life-affirming First Snow is a star bead that radiates the warmth and light of the heart of domestic film autumn.' Of course what caught my eye was the word 'helmi' which I had not realised was not merely a name (the middle bit of 'Wilhelmina', which is why I chose Helmi as the best Finnish woman's name for a beloved cat) but also the Finnish word for 'bead' (or more commonly I think 'pearl'). 'Tähden' means 'at', 'for', or 'for the sake of', which is fine, but believe it or not 'tähden helmi' means 'star bead', which only leads me to wonder what the helmi a 'star bead' is. But it's 'all good'.

Helene

I saw this film on Sunday it was pretty good, particularly Pirkko Saisio who played Helene's mother Olga and who is always cross/disgusted/repelled/irritated. 

Eero Aho and Pirkko Saisio in Helene

I don't want to give too much away and spoil it but there are two things you should know when you go to see this film, and I feel OK saying this because I really suspect that for most viewers, this is knowledge they would have going in. One is that Helene Schjerfbeck was 60something (or approaching it) in the 19teens-twenties when the events in this film are taking place. However, Laura Birn who plays her was only just about to turn 40, and I don't even care what cinema conventions are - you can't know that a 40sish woman (person!) is playing a person at least a decade and a half older unless at very least someone says 'Helene, you have been on this earth 58 years now and...' The other thing is that, well, this is embarrassing but I didn't know that Helene Schjerfbeck was real and I was really perplexed why all the paintings she was doing in the movie varied so much in style and even subject - if you know what I mean. They looked like three different people had done them and I thought, 'at least be consistent with these approximations of paintings from a hundred years ago'. Well, turns out she had a long and varied career and she tried on a lot of different styles over that time. 

This last image is of Einar (played by Johannes Holopainen) who she has a pretty solid thing for over most of the movie, and that is one thing I am not entirely sure about - I'm naive but really I have to wonder, what's so good about Einar? But overall I found it a pretty sumptuous, if slightly gloomy, film with a lot of very beautiful Finnish countryside and some pretty amazing actors. 

Oh one more thing. A lot is made of them writing letters to each other. Einar goes to Lapland and Helene says, we will write each other a long letter. Great idea, Helene! We never get any sense of what was in each other's letters, and we see quite a bit of Einar in Lapland but no sense he is writing a letter at all. Weird. At the end of the movie we are told that the two of them wrote each other over a thousand letters. Well... cool... in the film all they seemed to do was talk about it.

Oh also my brother (who I saw the film with) later referred to the subdued sex scene. I'll tell how subdued it was. I didn't even realise it was a sex scene. Hott. 

it's saturday morning

Image pinched from this
You may remember my complaintsplanation a few years ago about why I was blogging so little, and it was the pathetic reason that it was so hard to log on. Blogger fixed that, now it's super easy. But for some reason - and this has nothing to do with Blogger and might be just related to my laptop? - I now can't use airdrop. Or has airdrop been superseded and no-one told muggins? I don't know. Anyway, it doesn't work. So I can't easily grab pictures off my phone, of things around me etc, and instead I have to email them to myself and that's a dragorama. And I do like to use a picture, now, though I didn't always. 

This week has been very busy, as I work hard on a possible new project that might be an enjoyable enterprise in historical study I'm very comfortable with and which is also very relevant to my day job. I won't jinx it by discussing it here. Also, nothing might come of it and then I will look back on this post in a few years and think, fuck my luck. 

What have you been doing? I've done a lot of work this week, but also found time to play my new guitar, pat the cats, buy some second hand shirts, eat too much sometimes and not enough other times, walk almost enough to maintain my 10 000 steps/day average (actually I think I probably have maintained that... I don't know... it got a bit confusing there with very long walks some days and tiny nothing walks in others). I saw a pretty great Finnish film called Any Day Now, which I fully recommend if you get the chance. I wish I had had time to read more, but I have certainly written a lot. And will continue to do so. 

By the way, what's your feeling about starting a sentence with 'And'? To tell you the truth, though I did it above, I did it mainly to see what it looked and felt like because generally speaking, I never do that. I actually think it's a shit move. I don't know if this was drilled into my head somehow by some herself-very-poorly-educated-but-that's-not-important-anyway-she's-probably-dead-now teacher, back in the 70s or whether I somehow happened on this rule on my own. Either way it feels dangerous and not in a good way. I also wonder, do you think blog posts need to adhere to conventions of argument construction, or can they just end in mid-thought. 

happy fiftieth birthday wild life

 London Evening Standard 4 December 1971 p. 13

Los Angeles Times 'Calendar' section 12 December 1971 p. 56

Hartford Courant 18 December 1971 p. 14

Chicago Tribune 19 December 1971 'Arts & Fun' section p. 26

music

In a stupid, rash act which I don't really regret, I bought another guitar. I liked the look of it and how it felt to play it. It seemed somewhat easier to play than the guitar I've had for five or six years, it's another Epiphone. Of course 'easier to play' (ie for my tiny hands) is reductive, the more I play the new guitar the harder it'll be for me to play the old one. But I am enjoying it anyway. All I want to do is get into the habit of writing a song a week. It wouldn't really matter if they were versions of the same, the point is to keep them coming. My go-to chords (I'm sure I am not alone in this) are easy ones like E and Am and if I feel fancy, G. Hey, even B. 

I just think it's good for your brain, physically, to be doing things like this and drawing, as well, it's worth retaining/developing the skills. Also, I enjoy it, obviously, it's very absorbing and time goes really fast (which I don't necessarily want it to but it suggests that it's a deep process). I have no strong ambitions to take my music to the world (it's not that great. I do think about how, if I had actually learned to play guitar when I was 20, which I didn't because I was fearful a guitar teacher would try to make me learn Blowin' in the Wind, and it would be humiliating, rather than teach me how to play um Armalite Rifles or something, then I might have had the opportunity to write and record some songs that might have had some currency with some people in like 1989, but then, fuck it what difference does that make and I would also have had a stronger capacity to do some really embarrassing things too which I might well have). 

Trying to find a picture to illustrate this post I found there are a lot of people with the name Guitar, which surprised me, and made me wonder whether guitars are actually named for a person, but no they're not, according to wikipedia anyway the word guitar is derived from arabic via greek. So the name Guitar is either a complete coincidence? Or one of your ancestors played the guitar? I suppose the latter is more likely, but it's all still really confusing, although there should be a better word for it because 'really confusing' seems like, 'I'm holding my head, baffled, unable to do anything until I sort this out' rather than 'I'm a bit perplexed but I'm just not going to think about it anymore'. Instead, I'll go on to wondering what the hell 'thumb deaths' are. 

delayed rabbits

 

Been a bit distracted. Sorry Barry looks a bit scary. He's not.

my sailing away

I think I already told you my mother and I pulled together my grandmother's memoir and self-published (well, she paid) it as My Sailing Away. Last night I was bundling up copies to send to important repositories like the NLA, British Library etc. I have no idea what they do with these things when they get them but I assume they get hundreds every day, it must be sorely tempting to store them perilously close to the furnace in the basement and oops... 

It's hard impossible for me to be objective, and it just occurred to me that I might have the same affliction, but really I think Marion's writing style might to some degree have been affected by the fact that she made a bit of money on the side in her early middle age by both editing crap for public consumption (she used to rewrite international romance and light fiction for local republishing) and writing short pieces for, I guess, women's magazines (amongst her papers there was a short humorous piece about the perils of getting people ringing the wrong number when you have a common last name like Miller, we had no clue if it was published or not). Late in life she wrote some actual memoir stuff she submitted to The Oldie, they didn't publish it. In her writing she would often adopt a slightly bemused, but generally genial, tone which was one side of her character but only one. In the memoir we published, which was really two memoirs which we synthesised, she was writing for her daughters not the world, so there's a slightly more 'real' Marion in there (IMO). Indeed I suspect that if she thought she was writing for strangers (and they would not read it for twenty years after her death) she would be somehow inhibited, or at least, feel the need to contextualise excessively. In this case she leapt in with the attitude that she was filling in blanks more than that she was writing a life story and I think the text is better for it. But still, I think her writer's training held her back a little in really getting into the scuttlebutt but maybe that's actually a good thing - hard to tell. 

We laughed one time when, a few years after my grandfather died, Marion was in hospital with something and had a near-death experience (?) where she hallucinated all the men in her life came to see her, except my grandfather, who she seemed not even to notice she had omitted from the cohort, except of course she must have. Similarly he is quite an absence from this book, which is mainly about her life before she met him, although there is a little bit we contrived to squeeze in because it concerns the Petrov Affair, and he is mentioned in the diary section from the 1960s. Also, there are some great pictures of the two of them. But when it comes down to it it presents interesting problems, about whether she might really have preferred him to be kept out of her story, although I think she might understand that now she's dead her concerns or preferences no longer really matter and it's enough for us to acknowledge them. She can't deny she married and lived with him for over fifty years, and no-one's insisting they enjoyed it. I remember when I was a child and she was telling me about her coming from the UK on holiday and staying, I asked her why she stayed and she said she was swept off her feet by a dashing young journalist and I confusedly asked who that was. She laughed and said it was my grandfather. It was the 'dashing' bit but more importantly the notion that they once liked each other that surprised me. 

What does bother me is that he didn't write his life story, which was surely just as fascinating as hers, but would of course be even more infected by journalese. However, just yesterday my mother relayed a story from a friend who had read the book who told her that her son interviewed my grandfather for a school project and he refused to answer a question about Petrov. So, you know, there were some things we were never going to get. He did, however, answer a lot of questions on that when he went before a royal commission on it... and the answers weren't that interesting (they read like the answers of a man with a family caught up in something completely accidentally; he had Russian friends, etc). 

I really loved both my grandmothers and they had an unbelievable amount of impact on me. Actually it was my father's mother who I was closer to in the sense that she looked after me a lot when I was very young, so we had that kind of a bond, whereas my mother's mother had a job and things to do. But my absolutely favourite story about Marion which to me says a lot about her, is the story she herself told probably in the late 80s. She was waiting in line in the milk bar and getting agitated about being served, and the woman behind the counter told her a smile cost nothing, to which Marion replied, 'fuck that'. She enjoyed getting a rise out of the milk bar proprietor but what she also liked was (her words, paraphrased) 'this sweet old lady' using the second worst swear word to cut through a mealy-mouthed fool's bullshit. There's enough of that in this book, I think, to make it a credible and rewarding read. 

1964 homicide

I bought the first DVD set of Homicide, episodes from 1964. You can immediately see why the show was such a hit, I guess, at least, I suppose I like it because it's full of shots of Melbourne in 1964, and I gather people in 1964 liked it for that reason too. My DVD player, for whatever reason, won't allow me to change the screen ratio so everything's a bit squashed or stretched or whatever but it is a lot of fun seeing 50+ years old Melbourne and also the same two walls and a door dressed up to look like two or three different rooms each episode. 

Often you get the sense that they are just filming the streets to add something visceral to the whole thing and I guess extending a bit of screen time. But they also do great long 'silent' action sequences outdoors - they're really good - car chases (on empty streets) and so on.

How about this scene. I love this fence. What on earth is it. 

This is an example of a house that ... hmm, I was going to say is real but now I come to think of it I think I've been tricked with the incredibly elaborate pictures. 

I love this woman's anguished response. Whoever played this character she did really well delivering about as much dialogue as everyone else in the show combined in the space of about two minutes. 

I have watched five episodes now and it's always about a blonde woman being murdered. I suppose Homicide invented that idea. 

Closing sequence from the backseat driving down the first increment of what is now known as the Monash Freeway, is excellent too. Interstate cast (I wonder if there were any) chose, we are told, to stay at the California Motel, which was the modern building put opposite Xavier in Barkers Road, on the site of the old Kew railway line. I took pictures there one time when it was just about to be pulled down, I wonder where they are. 

baltimore sun 10 march 1968

 

beatles get back #1

Have to get into the day so won't spend forever writing about this but I have to say that if anything the first episode of this Peter Jackson spectacular seems pretty much to accurately reflect everything everyone has ever said about the actual experience. It additionally reminded me of how boring it can be rehearsing and/or writing music, although when I've been involved in that in a group scenario I certainly never felt the weight of the entire world's expectations on me as well.*

George's constant rambling which the others can barely be polite about is true to the band experience as well. There's always someone doing a self-interested commentary on proceedings, not just at band things, I mean it's human nature. The guy playing George is great, I hope to see him in more things.

As Alexis Petridis said in the Guardian today, after all that stuff people have said about Yoko over the years, you just have to admire her fucking patience during that week. And seriously considering she's a better artist than 9/10 of the tossers in that room I am amazed she didn't just walk out or at least just go and do her thing. For crying out loud. 

That said, viewing this schemozzle 50+ years later, we have the luxury (if you can call it that) of hearing them play 'Don't Let Me Down', a rubbish song in and of itself, a hundred times over, badly, and thinking 'god it's so obvious, why can't you get it right?' but I suppose it's that 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration thing. I certainly feel like I've been given insight into a process, a process in this instance of polishing a really worked-over turd (btw the story in the Get Back book is that George was constipated throughout, not sure the talking cure was ever going to work though).  

*TBF much more boring watching it than doing it. 

irony that possession previously considered almost entirely useless is now discovered to be useless

I probably told you some years ago when I bought this amateur printing set from Helping Hands in Airport West. It is absolutely the sort of thing I would naturally purchase as it is (1) impossibly arcane (2) impossibly archaic (3) smells bad (4) comes in an unrelated but quite delightful box (5) has the feel of something that, at some time, might have been in some way useful if only to a specially-contrived project formulated entirely to utilise it. So, this is the box:

But its contents is not a nice thick stack of heavy duty tubes. It is the elements of a printing set, or actually, a few printing sets combined, along with at least one date stamp. This is the biggest glom of printing letters, they are made of rubber:

There are also some metal ones (not pictured) (actually now I think of it probably lead?) and also some much smaller rubber ones, in fact at least some of these are I think cut from a date stamp:

Yes, they are as blurry as this photograph in real life.

Anyway, last week or probably the week before I got copies of my grandmother's memoir which my mother and I worked on way too long and which we finally forked out to print (so much cheaper than I thought it would be, by the way - if you ever want to print a short run of a book, christ, so cheap) and of course as with all of these things we forgot one important element i.e. we forgot to put our address on it. 

This doesn't matter massively in the scheme of things since the book's not for sale, but I have a feeling that it is technically illegal, so, I wanted to put an address on the copies we sent to institutions (eg the libraries and historical societies in the towns she grew up in the UK, and so on). At last! A job for my crazy little printing kit(s). 

I'd never used them before, so this had never really occurred to me previously, but I was very surprised to discover that in fact that although there were masses and masses of letters here, there was a substantial deficit in numbers (I needed to put a PO Box number and a postcode). I have a 7 (useless), I could use an O for a 0 (not exactly very professional, but bearable) but otherwise no numbers at all! (And why a 7?!). Also, no capital B and no lower-case fs (as far as I could tell anyway). 

So, now you understand why I titled this post the way I did. Hope you're well. 

the new breed of comic readers of 1967

Also while cleaning up I found two or three copies of Wham! from, yeah, 1967. I had absolutely no memory of owning these and I have entirely no idea where they came from. I was too young to buy them in 1967 - I must have bought them this century somewhere, but they don't have a big fat 21st century pricetag on them. It's a mystery. Maybe they were a present - ? 

There's a lot of interest here but I am too busy right now to do any kind of close read (sorry fans). I will just say that about half of the comic seems to be drawn by Leo Baxendale, though of that half I imagine some of it was inked by someone else so most of it is Baxendalesque (and why not - he was surely the most popular British comic artist of the 60s). The Tiddlers are (duh) obviously the Bash Street Kids with the unusual extra element of a reader being a special guest star:

How excellent is that. I guess Timothy Maggs of Monmouthshire is in his late 60s now assuming he is still with us and probably doesn't think every day about how he was once on the cover of Wham! 

I'll revisit Wham! again sometime soon, or update this post, whatever. Oh, one weird thing that I just want to mention - the cover of Wham! is the only full colour part of the comic, and even the back cover is monochrome (blue and white). How weird is that. Surely it wouldn't cost them anything more to at least make the back cover colour?! 

sentimental jamboree #2

A few more interesting bits and pieces:

I don't recall at all what I did this for, though I am pretty certain there was never any music of any sort to go with it. There were quite a few stories about Winky as singer in the band Long Pig. I think there was also a boofy boy bass player in those stories, or maybe a male drummer to replace Melissa. I'm a researcher on my own long-lost output lol. 

I do not know what I was driving at here but I note that Winky in the first frame is taking the same attitude as I take to beer. It hasn't happened yet. I have no recollection of whether 'shit-lipped' was a term I heard or whether I just made it up. It's in the Urban Dictionary and ostensibly either means someone who 'talks shit', someone who likes shit around their mouth, or a practical joke on someone who's passed out. In every way, classy. 

In a manner of speaking, the Winky world was one of eternal possibility, and I think I did conceive of one strip where he was much older, had children and stuff, how much of it I got into I don't remember. But Fastidious Frog was a much more enjoyable character to work with. This is a page that I drew and then rejected a redrew later, I think, because the last frame was rubbish (the wheel for instance). I don't seem to have any other FF things to hand. But, you know, if Winky wrote himself, Fastidious Frog was beyond that. I could sit around extrapolating FF stories all day. One good thing about him was he talked all the time so you didn't have to spend time trying to figure out drawing stuff, you could just put his head in the corner and fill the frame with his speech/thoughts. This is not an example of that but just take my word for it.