I am a bipedal carbon based sentient being (depending on who you ask). A male of the species Homo Sapien, a mutated and evolved mammal of the primate family who's major pastimes seem to be killing their own planet, all other life on the planet including each other, and reproducing (or the act of, mostly confined to their own species, but occasionally other species are involved e.g. hamster, sheep, giraffe). At present I am residing in Northern Ireland (although not a native), the United Kingdom, European Continent, Northern Hemisphere, Earth, Third planet from the star in the Sol system, western spiral arm of the galaxy known as "The Milky Way" or AA0 (WARNING TO ANY VISITOR TO THIS GALAXY : Ballet, Opera, and Religion are still practiced in this galaxy and are not outlawed as they are everywhere else in the known civilized universe, in fact these are classified as culture because the inhabitants are just a bunch of dirty perverts who don't know any better), in the Universe 148 where the weather is amicable but a bit wet, and where a banana is a curved soft pulpy fruit covered in a yellow skin and not an unstoppable killing machine. A universe with 11 known dimensions and where a good supply of mind-altering drugs and a cup of tea are needed to get your head around the local quantum physics and tax forms. Only 5 dimensions show up on a normal day, the others are usually found in a coffee shop in Soho, with a good supply of mind-altering drugs, cups of tea, a calculator, and their tax forms as they try to find their receipts for 1839-2003. The only time all 11 dimensions are present is when they make a brief personal appearance in particle accelerators or on a Tuesday when it's poker night. In other universes the dimensions are a little smarter, they have figured out that if they push their tax department into a 12th dimension, shove that dimension into an envelope and send it to a local war zone, the war ceases and both sides die from being taxed to death. Some smart-arsed dimensions just transport their tax department into the heart of a sun or into the gravitational pull of a black hole, but this has been seen by many as unsporting.

Incarcerated in a top secret research laboratory where I was forced to participate in experiments in probability, (the purpose of the experiments was to test the probability theory about primates being able to write the screenplay of Hamlet. After my escape from the labs I went on to be very well educated, I left school with the highest marks anyone had seen in a generation in subjects like disillusionment and disappointment. I went on to have failed careers in such diverse industries as a penis puppeteer, a traffic cone, and professional gimp, I have now chosen to settle into normal employment and sell electrical goods, (not the ones that vibrate or require lubricant), to idiots.

I like to relax by reading books, watching films, being tortured by a beautiful Norwegian dominatrix (and since I don't speak Norwegian and don't understand a word she says, I get punished all the time! )([link]), and occasionally a bit of painting.

I live in hope that one day I'll meet a nice lady, who is sensible enough not to paint herself orange with fake tan in a country where it rains all the time, and instead of the usual hitting me with her handbag, a brick, baseball bat, electric cattle prod, restraining order (of which I have an impressive collection), she might be nice to me, as they say small miracles happen everyday. The problem is this would not be classified as a "small miracle" as that would be a matter of biology and attraction. Even a certain Palestinian Jewish carpenter's son with more than a slight aversion to large planks of wood, nails, and dry white wine tasting would be scratching his head on how to make this possible. The probability calculation of such an event gives quantum physicists a headache and so they turn their attentions back to something less taxing such as trying to bend Space and Time to their will. Space and Time get really quite sick of this and often think about writing a "polite" letter to quantum physicist everywhere asking them to pack it in and go and get a life or get laid, or otherwise they will come to their home and the physicist will have a nasty little "spatial or temporal accident".

If you would like to read the collected short stories of the SAS Hermit please click here
Please visit this lovely pretty lady's page she is an inspiration to us all.

Note to all the sad stupid people who get their jollies winding actual creative DA members up:-

If you can't "play" nicely while your in my domain, I WILL block your dumb ass!