Kids eh?

A friend remarked that my paintings were like my babies. Well, maybe so, except they don't rely on me for anything, don't wake me at night, don't need me to change their nappies, and they never cover my shoulder in milky sick. Mind you, they are a bit like grown up kids though. The successful ones are scattered across the globe; they never call or write, not even a birthday card, and the, um, less successful ones (although equally loved of course) hang around the house, cluttering the place up and generally getting in the way. When will they go?

Go out and get a f**kin job, the lot of you.