This is real life.


If you were a 30 Something semi-successful business owner, semi-talented writer, and let's face it, semi-skinny.*

For quality entertainment purposes, except me to dress up the truth, take a stab at the serious, and add in a few little white lies.

So, this is real life on run from the fun police. 

Because if there's one thing I know for sure, screwing the stock standard seems to work, and well who doesn't like getting laid, right? 

*Yes, these photos are old, when I was a late 20 Something. I'm getting new ones taken soon, ya know, when I loose a gajillion pounds and look like Kate Hudson. Kidding. It's when I get my arse organised. But at least I didn't blatantly use Kate Hudson photos as my own.


This is the part where I do the awkward and propose we become friends and hang out in your inbox together.

Things you can know for sure: I'm not a creep, I'm not an internet marketer, and I'm taken. That means I won't be stalking your inbox trying to steal your money while sleazing onto you.  

What I will be: a ray of fucking fun in amongst all that serious shit all up in your inbox.


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