Yesterday I had a visitor at 2am, at the open door of my bedroom no less. Percy went out to have words. It was Percy’s words which woke me up, but this is the way he tells it, and considering there was a chunk of Percy’s fur outside my door this morning, his tale is probably accurate.
It was Bad Frank. Frank is quite fat, and very, very bad. He lives two doors down: a fact which Percy has to remind Bad Frank of on a regular basis.
Often I see something, or someone, whilst out and about, that seems to need committing to sketchbook, just because. But these are things that are usually fleeting, and would have to be drawn from memory. Never got round to it until now. Apologies to this chap, but he was odd, standing there in the street with his fist-full of darts and no dartboard. It is not a flattering sketch… on the whole I do not do flattery, unless you are a cat.