Possibly, you didn’t know or I might not have mentioned but recently I was in a terrible motorbike crash…
I drink coffee like a maniac.
I smoke like a chimney.
I talk like an express train.
I swear like a trooper.
I was born in England but the family is all Irish. So Irish in fact, that other Irish people are not regarded as Irish at all. As a child, I spoke Gaelic before I spoke English but that’s all faded away now.
When I was small (say, under ten), my father called me a plastic paddy — I’m still insulted by the label but that’s probably what I am.
When I was older, I used to like to think of myself as a bit of a tough guy.
When I was older still, I wished to be seen as an intellectual.
Now, I live in Bali and try hard to not care about how other people see me at all. It’s hard work.
I’m the owner of Indonesia Export — Bali’s only decent supplier of handicrafts (said with a smile). The company started on a computer, on the desk of my best friend and founder of the company, Steve Miller. We took it from there to a fully legal company on one of Bali’s main streets. It’s hard work.
I have a beautiful girlfriend, Athina, and a lazy, good-for-nothing, black dog: Mojo.
I’ve been described as:
- An emotional brick wall.
- A bastard.
- A rude bastard (you get the idea).
- Best Friend.
- Big brother.
I choose to not disagree with any of those descriptions.
I regard myself as a romantic and I try hard to be kind, honest and ethical — it’s hard work. Occasionally I’m brave, usually not. Lazy? Yes. Flawed? I don’t have enough energy to share the details but yes.
I like chocolate, coffee, cigarettes. Japanese food. Indonesian food. Junk food.
I like geckoes (small lizards) that creep around walls, I like Chik-chaks — even smaller lizards, one lives in my printer and occasionally makes me jump when I go to change the paper.
I like large lizards that lumber across the main street during traffic jams.
I like dogs. Very much.
I like the way the sun sets off Legian beach in Bali and I’ve liked it that way for about eight years.
I used to like cold weather but now I like it hot & humid.
I like rain any time of day of day or night — not just the sound, which hits me like a low, groovy drumbeat but also the feel of it on my face and back.
I read too fast. Sometimes I drive too fast. I think a bit. I talk too much — usually about crap.
I don’t like cockroaches but, as a species, hats off to them. Plus, I see them every day so what can I do?