I have visited places deep in the backwoods of rural America, such as New York and San Francisco, and have lived to speak of my encounters; I have travelled to the deepest depths of London (UK) and clawed my way out of the darkness. All this and more have I done, but here is not the place to talk of such matters.

Since I reached the precipitous age of 12 I have been enrolled in that fine institution, the Royal Grammar School of High Wycombe (in the United Kingdom for those of you who inexplicably skipped directly to the third paragraph). Throughout my years there I have avoided the twin demons of Rugby and Football to the extent of my abilities, but have met with only limited success in this endeavor.

Recently I participated in The Exams (or GCSEs as some prefer to call them) and obtained many good marks, securing myself a place in voluntary education (6th form).

This is my story, and I am sticking to it.