Who am I?
Examples of character are usually the best way to answer that question. How many people, I wonder, can creep stealthily up behind a gentleman you believe to be your father and deliver a karate chop to the back of the neck only to be thrown out of the hotel when it’s revealed to be the manager? Few I would imagine.
How many have stood before a regiment of puzzled army troops at a Spanish army barracks delivering English language drills before the realisation sets in that you have arrived at the wrong address before being frogmarched off the premises for infiltrating security? Even fewer, I suspect. With this on the charge sheet, it’s a wonder I was admitted into the Ministry of Nuclear Energy.
Before you run away with the conclusion that these episodes must be the work of a rogue, I couldn’t possibly comment. All I am prepared to admit is that I was born in London, UK and after spending much of my twenties in Europe (fleeing various people), I’m now lying low in Oxford.
Others works
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