Autobiography of a Non-Celebrity (Paperback)

Saved from death by my welly. A dog with suicidal tendencies. Chased by a salesman wearing salami. Maybe I should have seen the signs? I meet Jehovah's witnesses that can't wait to desert me and established odd links with great writers. I also play a piano concerto near Baker St. tube, though someone else plays a much better one. Bad poetry's written and I freeze on top of a nuclear plant, all in the name of world peace - the nuclear bit, that is. But many lessons are learnt like why socks are best worn on the beaches of Rio and why you should never study accountancy in Perth. The Atlantic's crossed on a sailboat, I live in Miami, then give it all up for a knackered old campervan bought on a whim on ebay. And it doesn't end there. In Provence I write a novel, poison a horse and meet a few French - one of which sleeps on my doorstep. Add ghosts, devils, umbilical hernias and dolphins that love the blues, and I still haven't touched the surface. It's been an interesting 43 years.