I need to get back to drawing bands with very few members. Misty’s Big Adventure are a brilliant band, who cram loads of people on stage (including their multi-limbed, blue-faced ‘dancer’, Volvo), but they take ages to draw. However, I forgive them, as they’re so bloomin’ ace. I managed to catch Mistys in Brighton a couple of weeks ago, and I’m dragging Kate and DMH to see them in London tomorrow: big brassy oddpop is guaranteed. Got a spare five minutes? Then watch some of their wonderful videos here and here and here.

Just when you thought the tone was being raised, let’s take it back down again. Right down.

Here’s Charles Bukowski, laureate of the American lowlife. A suitably murky rendering of an unreconstructedly murky dude. I think I just made up an adjective.

I’m a great fan of beautiful print: foil blocks, special colours, debossing, embossing, tip-ins, throw-outs. But for cheap print thrills, there’s no beating a rubber stamp.

So when a big knees-up (my wedding) needed a pop-up pub, I knew straight away how to make the beer mats. All 200 of them.

I’m pleased to report that Santa delivered an exciting bag of swag last week, including some vintage Alan Moore.

So here he is, the dark lord of comic books, denizen of Northampton and ceremonial magician, who recently retired from the writing of comics to pursue dodgem logic (the act of colliding ideas to see what happens). Good luck with the collisions, Mr Moore.

I recently finished the excellent short story collection Bamago Snuff Box by Kurt Vonnegut, who is (it really goes without saying) a leg-end. Here he is.