After my cocoon stage I moved from Mars to Earth, where I settled into a pig farm in outer Siberia. Shovelling pig sh1t each day in the cold started to get to me, and one day, in a fit of rage, I killed a pig with my bare hands and roasted it on a spit. The fat was so incredibly tough that I couldn't chew it, so I cut it into thin strips using my Siberian Army rock, and decided to build a harp out of the individual pieces.

Through the months as I learned how to play my instrument in the farmyard during free time, my usually happy-go-lucky boss became worried because his pigs began dying. It may have been because his pigs began dying. It may have been because I played the same tune day and night for several months. Those bloody Colonel Mc Burger ads are so catchy, yet so intensely annoying. The pigs couldn’t stand it, and one by one, as they failed in their attempts to get me to stop (including singing along with me), they simply went mad and died.

In the hour that the last pig died my boss had just finished liberating his favourite sheep and said to me - ..you are free to go wherever you like and to do whatever you wish, for the last pig died this very day... I said I was happy to be free from any obligations. My boss said the feeling was mutual - he..d been looking after the farm for a deceased uncle, and was keen to continue running Iraq. The very same day I left for Giza, but I soon became bored with the people - they never knew a word of English, and I left for the Southern Continent known as Australia.

Once there, I converted my harp into a grand piano and settled down to writing pop songs. I moved to the UK because the neighbours were getting annoyed. All my songs are inspired by the Siberian pig farm I now miss incredibly badly. More than anything else I want to succeed in a music career so that I can go back to that farm and make Mr. Hussein proud.

Thankyou for tuning in...