Semi-reformed music hack who still can't quite shake off the desire to slurp pints in dimly-lit music venues watching skinny white boys with difficult haircuts attempt to play the same tune together. Still, it beats growing up.
Happiest snapping away on vintage cameras, waking up in Soviet-built trains not knowing where the hell I am, exploring foreign climes possibly without the aid of a guide book, watching cricket on a blazingly hot summer's day, dancing like nobody's watching or setting the world to rights in gastropub corners. Intelligent and funny people who like similar should get in touch.
Motto courtesy of The Clean's Oddity.
