Times are tough out there and in a bit of a rush of blood I thought, time to do some T-shirts!
So I've been beavering away in between worrying myself to death and, I thought too, why not throw the critical hat out the window and let the world judge.
My good mate Richie is the world's biggest critic, especially when it comes to all things Mick. He thinks half of them are crap anyway so I just have to be a glutton for punishment.
So, bit by bit I'll be putting up the odd ideas, and see what tomatoes get tossed back at me.
So today, a borrowing from a favourite old poem-turned-soap-powder, and the other...what I've done quite a bit of, though my Dear Old Dad might argue, but without the pipe , of course.
Smelly bloody things.
(Naturally imagine one of these next to them, © if anyone can be bothered nicking them.)