I write whatever strange tales enter my head. Sometimes it's a drawn out story, other times it's a short tale and occasionally its a mad poem. I must go where my slightly concussed muse takes me. One day it'll get a collar and a GPS tag. Most of my output will be short stories or poems, but occasionally should I have the inclination, something longer may be created. Out of imitation MDF.

Some of the less aimless of my stories can be found on FanFiction.net

For those interested, very bored or with too much time on their hands, here is a bit about me. Some of it may be true.

Age (see 'Big Hairy Lies')

806 give or take a few thingumy-doodads.

Interests:

Writing weird tales and peculiar poetry, listening to music, playing guitar and ukulele, painting, aaaaand singing.

Influences:

Just about anything I read or hear probably, but for listing's sake:

Rosie Jackson, Terry Pratchett, Lisa Swerling, Ralph Lazar, Robert Rankin the wise, Grant Naylor (I know), Douglas Adams, Tom Holt, The Illuminated Bretheren of the Twitterati, Tom Clancy, Spike Milligan, That M. Python crowd, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Mary Gauthier, Stephen Fry, Nanci Griffith, The late great Kirsty MacColl, Hayao Miyazaki, Rumiko Takahashi, The Bonzo dog doo dah band, Elmore Leonard , The DORC podcast, Bill 'The Saviour of the Owl' Bailey, Mike Batt, Ludwig Ledbury (Where ever he may be, gawd bless his little cotton socks), the writers of Dangermouse, Carol Decker, teletext computer game thing Digitiser, Paul Heaton and many others.

Awards:

None. Not one. Naff all. Am I bitter at all? Noooooo, not a bit.

Dedications:

Tropical Thing is dedicated to Fancy Octopus and Matt Hocker, who sang/rapped it to a steel drum in the Buried Gems Podcast.

Big hairy Lies:

This has no purpose at all...

Jupiter is home to a race of nuclear shrews, Eating the right cereal at the right time will turn you into Abraham Lincoln, Birmingham is available in gingham and shades of pastel pink, Michael Stipe has spent the last three weeks sitting on an egg in the hopes it will hatch. It won't as it's a Kinder Egg, If you bite a radioactive duck you will turn into Mother Goose and thus you will appear in pantomime in Grimsby with Helen Lederer in 1876, David Cameron's best friend is a bit of plastic guttering he likes to call Phil, the floor underneath you right now has plans to destroy the clouds, flea powder is made from ground up gnome hats, there is a somewhat rude secret ode to Rachel Riley hidden in the Sistine Chapel's floor, your lawn will secretly go shopping for shoes when you're asleep.