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Frankie lives in Coventry, England. He has held many positions including children's worker, factory worker. In one warehouse the manager tried o explain how to put a coin in the drinks machine and kindly stopped the insult when informed 'I've got that bit' ... proper jobs aren't all they're cut out to be, unless it's cutting out with a pair of scissors. He has written most of his life but started to do it seriously when he was a bus driver. The job consisted of driving along in a mobile loony bin. One day he was asked if he wanted to buy some grass by a passenger, who asked for sixty quid for a small plastic pouch of the stuff. He refused and told the manager (at least he thought it was the manager, who was hard to see through the cloud of sweet smelling smoke). "Terrible! That's very expensive and not good for business" said the manager. "Not a good businessman at all" the manager carried on.
"Well, I see your point, but not too bad for a seven year old. He had a face hard enough to chop wood on, which will serve him well in the future." The job started Frankie writing seriously and the book which deals with the mad training to be able to dodge a machete (Skid Marks). There are many other books too from this disturbed mind. Seven genres in all.
Anyway, have a great day.