Made in my way-too-big Moleskine watercolor sketchbook, that I ordered by mistake. It's as big as the menu at a faux-classy French restaurant. Worse, it's got a great big flappy cover that you have to hold up somehow. When I open it up, I feel like I should be reading a gospel to the filthy masses or something. There's no reason I had to stick the word "filthy" in there, is there? I'm just a minor-league misanthrope, aren't I? It's this damn giant sketchbook, I tell you! Walking down the street with it under my arm, I feel like an 18th-century caricature of a tax collector. It's got black covers, did I mention that? It's clownish, and it makes me feel like a clown. Not the good kind, either, if there is such a thing. The kind people look at and think to themselves, how ironic.