I'm ill.

With the dreaded Man-Flu.

On Christmas day. The 10-year old in me is screaming to the Gods for justice, but none hear. The 28-year old in me, jaded by 18-years of brutal hardship in an affluent part of England's coast, finds the situation to be just what he expected. Truly, there are none worse off than I. Not even lil' Timmy Aushwitz.

I felt that, as it is Christmas, I should do something nice for those of you who have been nice, and something nasty for those of you who have been nasty. Santa Claus refused to grant me access to his list, fearing what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands, I expressed to him that my hands (the ones wrapped around his obese throat) were not the wrong ones, since they were undeniably smooth from years of not doing anything, and living like a sloth beast who has everything provided to him by his parents.

Long story short, I can't tell which of you have been nice and which of you have been naughty. Not wanting to give anything to the naughty camp, thus rewarded and fostering that kind of behaviour, and not wanting to give nothing, thus depriving those who, and let's be honest here, spend their whole lives hoping good karma will give them a small scrap of the magnificent art scraps from my drawing table.

So, I decided on a compromise. I'm going to upload some new Fett pics BUT, they'll be old sketches and thus, not actually any good.

The balance is restored.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

(Except for lil' Timmy Auschwitz... he knows why.)