Name: Andrew Foster. Yeah, and my middle name�s Jack. Go on, make the Doctor Foster jokes. And the Jack frost ones. If you need me, I'll be huddling in the corner, sobbing.
D.O.B: 21st August 1989 (feel free to send me large, expensive gifts).
Age: This morning's lesson: Today's date minus my birthday equals my age. That's 15, for the intellectually challenged among you.
Sex: Yes please.
Oh right, you mean gender� male, last time I checked.
Nationality: Scottish, but my family's from Italy. Yay for Italy and stuff!
Occupation: Lazy bugger. I�m 15 for flob�s sake. (Cue random moaning old man: �In my day, we worked thirty-nine hours a day down in the cheese mines from age six! You young �uns have it easy! Flogging�s too good for �em� Kids these days�� etc.
My life has been and continues to be a fascinating series of wondrous exploits... none of which are any of your business.
Oh all right, since you forced it out of me.
I was born in the dead of night during a terrible storm. The wind howled through the trees, the rain lashed against the window, and lots of other wonderful description took place, which I would put in if this was an English essay, but it's not, so I won't. Okay... well, actually, it was about 7 in the evening and the weather was fine, But it makes a better story the other way. So, anyway, due to unforeseen circumstances, I was taken to the Swedish Highlands where I was raised by a family of Slovakian Llamas. I became well-trained in the ancient art of stuff, which I would go into detail about here, but it would fry your brain with the amazing awesomeness of it. Honestly.
And then I got fed up telling the tale of my life, and stopped.
Okay, we have some more space to fill, how about I tell you a story?
Once upon a time, there were these guys, who did some stuff. Then some things happened, after which some causes led to some effects, then there were a series of events.
And in conclusion, they all died.
My favourite book? I dunno... probably the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams, which incidentally is one of the funnniest books ever.
Favourite music? Umm... loadsa stuff, but as I write this, I'm listening to The aptly-titled Franz Ferdinand album, Franz Ferdinand. And that'll have to do ya for now.
Favourite film's gotta be The Last Samurai. Or maybe Monty Python And The Holy Grail. Hell, how could a film with an insult like:
"I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"
...not be? (You've got to hear the French accent that goes with it, though.)
My favourite artist? Anything with scatology... the humorous kind, not the naughty kind.
(Go ahead, look it up.)
(No, seriously, do.)
I don't smoke - except when I get set on fire, of course - cause it is, for want of a better word, boggin'. Just my personal take on things, but sucking on a stinking stick of tar and spewing smoke over other people isn't really my idea of fun. I also don't drink much; I'm more into the whole "laughing-at-other-people-as-they-topple-into-the-canal" thing.
Okay, moving onto hobbies. On Friday night, I do two hours of karate. On Sunday night, I do an hour and a half. On Monday afternoon, I do an hour of badminton, and then on Monday night, I do yet another hour of karate (I'm now on my brown-and-white belt, one before black. Don't make me go all Jackie Chan on your ass...). Around that, I try and fit in the rest of the stuff I enjoy, which includes reading, playing my PC & PS2, swimming, drawing Stoopid Cartoons and writing the occasional piece of crap for all you nice people to enjoy on this site, along with once in a while actually talking to some real human beings. There you go, just thought I�d share my life with you. What a na�ve fool I am.
I'm also into Extreme Flower-Arranging. I think I do it for the adrenaline rush. I live for that buzz...
Favourite quotes? Well, I don�t exactly have a list off the top of my head, but I�ve always liked�
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.
Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."
Groucho Marx
"Put it his way... If complete and utter chaos was trouble, he'd be the kind of guy to stand on a hill in a thunderstorm wearing wet copper armour and shouting "All Gods are bastards.""
Terry Pratchett, The Colour Of Magic
And...
"I recognised the tall barman as well. His name was Harry and he looked as happy as a Rechabite at a wine-tasting. I recalled one of Scott's quotes from Gus McPhater: "Harry does for conversation what lumbago does for dancin'."
William McIlvanney, Strange Loyalties
And I can�t think of anything else to put in this profile. Man, are you still reading? I�m impressed. If I had to read about myself for this long, I�d have the attention span and memory of a goldfish.
An 81-year-old, amnesiac, cannabis-abusing goldfish, who hadn�t had a particularly good memory to start off with.
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