A successful man, an intelligent man, and above all a dignified man, basking in the glory of his marvellously distorted ego. I used to be that man, once upon a time. Much as it pains me to remember, much as it makes me squirm – that man used to be me! Mind you, I’d be in a lot more pain if I had to bring my attention to how I am now… You would see some serious squirming then I can tell you. That’s the title of my latest book – Serious Squirming. The truth is that I find titles for my many books a lot faster than I can actually write them and so that can be a bit of a problem. A resourceful man, a man with unusual interests – a man not particularly given to humour, shall we say? A man trying his best to survive in a niche which has become more and more depleted as the years have passed by. A successful man fallen upon hard times. An honourable man, a reasonable, placid  and generally good-humoured man, a man given over however to prolonged fits of unmanageable remorse. A strong-willed man, trying his best to adapt to an unfavourable niche, but a successful one nevertheless. These are all points to remember and remember them we should, if at all possible. The exception proves the rule, as we all know. Exceptions always prove the role and there’s very few that don’t know that. Most folks do. Most folks know it. And it’s so very important to prove the rules, so very important. If we didn’t work hard to prove the rules then what would happen to us all? The world needs rules and we wouldn’t know if the rules really were rules unless someone were to come along to prove them. So prove them we must, and without any delay. Prove them we must, and with all possible alacrity. When you prove the rule, then the rule will in turn prove you in what we might call an act of reciprocal benefit. And that’s important – if the rule didn’t prove you how would you know if you were here or not? Infected with the hideous warmth of your baneful regard, I struggle as best I can to make myself invisible. Even I don’t believe that I’m here. Words are my servants, they scurry to do my bidding. ‘Do my bidding, oh my words!’ I cry out, in the white-hot fervour of my creative ecstasy. That’s all just fantasy though – it’s all sheer fantasy. It’s a way of looking at things that can be less challenging, a way of seeing things that can be pleasant for all concerned. I am the Spider King, the Lord of the Strands, the Web Master – my interests are fast food and gambling and my relationship status is single.