Pallid, tubby, balding, middle aged technology-fixated Trekkie geek and wannabe Borg. Murky past. Even murkier future. Dangerous "hobbies" are explosives, pyrotechnics, fireworks, projectile weapons and aviation (often in combination).
Used to work on wierd and wacky high-tech projects using leading-edge technology, more for the buzz and the geek status points than for the actual money.
Amazingly, still not dead, despite people trying really really hard ....
Designated "8th of 7" by cow-orkers because of a severe, virulent technology addiction. When the Borg do arrive on planet Earth, will be banging on the door wanting in. Expected response: "No, go away - you're too wierd. Here's a pound for a cup of tea, now go and bother someone else".
Has recently realised (too late) that he is turning into Wally (from the Dilbert strips)
Hates children, horses, children, cats, children, cats, children and ex-wife (no children). Loves vehicles, projectile weapons, beer, chocolate, watching bad things happen to small noisy children, tot-thumping, small hairy dog and girlfriend (not necessarily in that order).
Favourite quote/saying: "I love the smell of Napalm in the morning...."
Heroes: Field Marshal Montgomery, Sam Vimes.
Email: eighthofseven_"AT"_yahoo.co.uk
HBGC e+ p+ s+ g+ B++ A++ n+ G r++ E++ C V+ a I+ t+ Z X-- T+ D