I’m an award-winning copywriter, I suppose, but I should’ve been a Southampton footballer.
Sigh, if only Wayne Bridge hadn’t stitched me up with a back pass that led me to the outer Hebrides of my penalty box where I wrestled a Portsmouth player Macho Man Randy Savage-style to the turf. Bridge, of course, went on to marry one of The Saturdays, I’m writing this on a Sunday. Think we all know who the real winner is.
I majored in Sport Science and minored in Bazooka Chicken, then fannied around travelling before making garage doors for a year so I could get into advertising. POW - take that public schools. Started at Leo Bs, VCCP & BBH and currently struggling fashion wise in Shoreditch with BETC London.
I’m conceptual, have a visual eye, receding hairline and have written travel stuff for The Sun (do judge me). I’m fluent in two languages, Yorkshire and Somerset, so equally comfortable with wassons, get ons, how dos and eh ups. I improvise in London - sick! (see).
Always happy to hear about writer-shaped holes.