ICM - Leeds Design Agency

When I was the spritely age of 9, my mother who I fondly remember grunting at me as she sat by the fire in our caves in the Pennines scraping sabre tooth pelts with pieces of flint for a living, decided it was time my education should encompass the wonderful world of art. She took me to our local cave gallery in Skipton where I was shown colourful wall paintings of our tribe hunting dangerous rabbits and mice. We were not brave, or come to think of it, fat, but we were happy unlike the obese 9 year olds who go around in gangs today demanding respect from everyone. For what?

Ug.