When I was a kid, drawing on walls got you a thick ear and a bollocking from the Old Bill. Not any more apparently.Drawing on walls now gets you world-wide acclaim and some big fat pay cheques.

And you ain’t just an artist. You is a ‘street’ artist. An inner city fucking Picasso.

Even better, you don’t learn your trade at art skool with a load of middle classed Tarquins. You just nips down your local hardware store and buys a load of spray paint. No need to even sniff it.

So last night I decides to get me a piece of this action. While some geezer called Banksy is causing mayhem round New York, I had a few pints of Stella and got me some inspiration – yes I sniffed my ‘punk rock pink’ spray can. And took to the streets the Walthamstow.

The results, even though I says it meself, are blinding. Get yourselves on the Northbound Victoria line and check it out. Rod Rat is giving guided tours for a tenner each.

Me only problem now is how to transport the ‘art’ down to Sothebys to get it sold. Gonna need to knock down a few walls. Better have another sniff of the punk rock pink and nick meself a digger.