Take a good look. Not long after this picture was taken the stupid, trusting bitch next to me was dead. I cut her throat so deeply that her head nearly came off. Also, I recall, her blood ruined one of my favourite shirts. This is, perhaps, the only image of me in existence - unless you count baby pictures and school photographs which were probably thrown away years ago. It sometimes irritates me to think that I have to share my sole portrait with her - that bovine-faced little tramp. More than once I've come close to cutting her off it. But then I get to thinking how this picture is a record of a special event; a little moment in time - frozen, trapped and caught forever; a spark of entertainment when I need cheering up. When I look at it so many stimulating memories are rekindled.

Perhaps I am sharing my little adventures with you because they live again - vibrant, fresh, hot and bloody - in the telling? If you are frightened or disgusted by words and images which are intended for broad-minded adults don't continue - you won't like what I'd allow you to see.