Mark McCreadie was born one March during the 70’s, after his mothers’ water broke while she laughed at the spastic antics of a Gin soaked tramp by the roadside. After being thrown out of several elementary schools, he settled down and eventually managed to sit through enough classes to earn a degree in engineering. Since then he has wasted that fine and pricey education which his parents persistently remind him that they paid for.
Truly a prince among men, and women for that matter, it is agreed by all that he is quite possibly the highest pinnacle to which humanity can ever hope to aspire in form, thought and deed. Swordsman, bon vivant, polymath – these are just some of the words he knows how to spell.
Rumours that he personally ended World War II, the British Slave Trade and that he single-handedly pulled down the Berlin Wall with a pickaxe are entirely true, but he doesn’t like to talk about them.
In his spare time he writes stuff, some of it occasionally funny. His work, if you can call it that, has been performed on stage. His musical tastes include whatever’s lying around at the time.

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