I have been bought up in the suburbs of Sheffield, where the factories sing with the clash of steel and the chimneys smoke with fireplaces ablaze. A Yorkshire pudding glazed with Henderson's Relish was the golden egg of what it means to be a Northerner, nothing compared to eating one as a child, for school dinners or for tea.
Eighteen years ago I came into this world, ready to explore and endure life's greatest treasures.
Eighteen years and I've only just figured that the hole in a Coke can seal is for a straw, and that life only gets worse when you embark on that sorrowful journey to the afterlife when you realise University is just around the corner.
Writing isn't for me, I'll admit, but what a better way to usefully spend time, or procrastinate. Both the same thing, eh?
Enjoy reading my life story, I dare you.
