The following is a true and totally accurate biography of my life so far. Apart from this one paragraph. Everything else is true.
A child of the Viscount and Viscountess Greystoke, I was born literally with a silver spoon in my mouth. The family physician had no idea how it got there.
At the age of three, a plane we were travelling on crashed into the mountains of Ontarioland, Canadia. Cut off from civilisation, we had no choice but to eat each other’s remains.
Luckily, I had the plane’s only flare gun.
After a large meal of overcooked meat, I set off, and came across a pack of wolves, a panther, and a singing black bear, who raised me to adulthood. They taught me the laws of the Canadian jungle – how to hunt, the correct way to hold a knife and fork, the meanings of road traffic signals.
To this day I still have many of the traits and habits of Canadian culture, ey?
As a teenager I left the jungle on a yellow horse, and ran into three soldiers with a fondness for duelling, and together, we got involved in a holy war. Good times.
Bored with my life so far, I have decided to seek my fortune with a pen and paper, and, headed home to my birthplace England, seat of the British Empire and the home of the English language. (Note to self – fact check this.)
Following directions from the google machine, I drove down to New York docks, and swam across the Atlantic to do so.
As soon as my sore muscles recover, I shall commence the writing of my epic. Any year now.
Last updated 10th January 2013