Because I’m so alternative, I wrote a poem summarising my life and times. If non-discernible, it’s about throwing parties in my youth and now essentially doing it for a living.

This tale unfolds on Gloucester Road
A place of magic so oft bestowed

On moped all-black, locks painted white
Our zebra armed with the gift of the night

For twas the dawn of dubstep and heaven forbid
A bracelet of entry for only three quid!

A startup? Stop there! Yet was certainly lean
As don’t tell Lakota that him only sixteen

So why share this fable? Why should it ring true?
For this is first bite of an appetite grew

Post-study up North, all goblets o’ booze
And a year off-shore that had all Toulouse

Him settle in London, new family FRUKT
A voyage to greatness, his cabin be booked

Who knew back then when chasing dat paper
He could combine dem skillz with dem of Don Draper

Those imprints of youth, in more mature hands
Still selling the night but now it’s for brands

Danny ‘Two Birds’ Stone was my boxing name. The robin is synonymous with my late Mother’s family and, being a life-long Bristol City fan, this adds yet further meaning.