The details of my life are quite inconsequential… very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanise, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds – pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum… it’s breathtaking- I suggest you try it.
I think that says it all but for clarity…
- I’m an evolutionary mass of atoms whose sole instinct is survival, born at young age and humble with a hint of Kanye.
- I’m married to an amazing man and we’ve been together since 2002.
- I use he/him pronouns and am straight 4 pay.
- I’m hard of hearing and wear two hearing aids.
- I’m a massive homosexual.
- I’m vegan.
- I live in Galway, Ireland.
- I give talks on mental health and LGBTI+ activism.
- I have pecs like dinner plates, the heart of a lion and the mind of 6 year old.
- I’m often seen as abrupt but I genuinely don’t mean anything nasty by it.
- I’m always* caring.
- I invented Post-Its
Will that do?
[*maybe not always]