A certain lack of Self-awareness
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The first time I met Will Self was in the Green Room at a conference we were both due to speak at. We sat together chatting when an enormous bald man of terrifying countenance, his face completely covered in blue-green tattoos and steel piercings, pulled up a chair at the opposite end of our large round table, minding his own business, drinking a coffee.
“Fucking hell!’ Will practically shouted to me, as though I was at the other end of a car park. “LOOK at the fucking HEAD on him!”
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“Fucking hell!’ Will practically shouted to me, as though I was at the other end of a car park. “LOOK at the fucking HEAD on him!”
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