About Me....
I promise you, it's one of the
few times I'll ever be self-indulgent
Well, basically, this page is to tell you more stuff you didn't need (or want) to know - as if the rest of the page didn't do that enough. I'll let you know how you can contact (Abuse/Threaten/Possibly Sexually proposition - although that's a longshot) me and I'll also lead you into my secret double life as a cock-fighting 'entrepreneur'.
OK, first to the basic details:
This is quite possibly the most ghoulish, disturbing photo you may ever see on the internet
Name
Nick 'Asbestos Underwear' Marland
Date of Birth
October 10th, 1981 (That makes me 21, but your humanoid intellect surely calculated that.) Incidentally this is the date foretold by Nostradamus as the one on which a "funny-looking dark prince will swarm up from the pits of hell and taint the lives of all around him with his evil", but I don't think he meant me. At least if he did, I'm a Dark Prince...How many members of royalty in your family?!
Lives
Sydney, Australia. Australia's the one at the bottom of the map, by the way.
Biography
Nick - born eldest of three into a circus troupe family not too dissimilar from the musically-inclined Patridge Family - spent most of his early childhood in a destructive frame of mind; at various points he drew with permanent marker on recently-painted walls, shaved off his eyebrows, strolled off from under his mother's watchful eye and ended up locking himself in a garage full of noxious fumes and - in a seminal incident in his comedy career - set fire to a carpet by tipping over a heater*: a moment which still makes him and others chuckle to this day. It was this series of events, the latter in particular, which inspired Nick to go to whatever humiliating, destructive or life-threatening lengths needed to make people laugh.
Nick's early attempts at comedy were crude, to say the least. In his first year of primary school he volunteered to contribute to the monthly school newsletter - his teacher, Mr Randolf, was only too happy to foster the young boy's creativity. The resulting short article, entitled Mr Randolf Eats His Own Ca-ca, was met with an unfavourable response from most, with the exception of Nick's classmates who found it hilarious.
Nick spent the rest of his days at prestigious** Wentworthville Primary School receiving regular taunts of "You Nerd" and watching games of Kiss and Catch from afar. The cries of "Nerd" and "Poindexter!" were justified when he was deemed Dux of the school in 1993, laughing at all the people around him who were destined to work in a McDonalds. He attained a place in the prestigious** Girraween High School where he enjoyed only marginally less taunts and beatings. High school brought the added advantage of girls he was actually romantically interested in; still, this didn't mean anything since these things have to be a kinda reciprocal arrangement. He progressed through high school with little concern for applying himself and yet still achieved good results, coming second in a grade-wide 'Bad Odour Exam'. He wasted most of his valuable study and class time writing bogus essays; drawing the award-winning*** Muleman comic strip; devising a cure for polio (a combination of icecream, rum and green vegetables) until he discovered polio had long been cured; and fantisising about teachers he'd like to bang.
Nick cleared the (metaphoric) hurdle of his Higher
School Certificate with a UAI of 84.85, quite a good mark considering his lack of effort....but then again quite
a poor one considering the extortion threats he made against several baby food companies in order to achieve a
higher mark. He was accepted into the prestigious** Macquarie University (motto: "If you're lazy, then here: Have another
week of holidays!") where he is currently about to complete his second year of studies in Creative Arts. His first year yielded good results, with the exception of a fail in accounting....Which begs the question "Why the hell is a Creative Arts student made to do accounting anyway?!!!" The year 2000 also provided Nick with many opportunities to make an ass of himself, which he accepted with glee - writing an article for his university magazine about the Sydney Olympics, getting too drunk on a few occassions and, of course, continuing to make and promote this site.
The year 2001 bore witness to Nick's life on the up-and-up as, in a 'rites-of-passage' type deal he was finally allowed to use real money instead of the hand-rendered paper money his parents let him play with - due to an insistence that he learn the importance of currency and responsibility. He bought a packet of chewing gum and a copy of Smash Hits magazine.
Speaking of magazines, his 20th year on Earth saw our young pale friend make further contributions to Macquarie University's Passing Show magazine - including his controversial article on liberal theoretician Noam Chomsky's penchant for dark chocolate packaged in US-sanctioned sweatshops+. He made many new friends at Macquarie - such as a young, scar-faced man who only answered to the name 'Grëbold' and claimed to be actively involved in the planning of several South American military coups dé tat.
Grëbold was last seen alive on July 17th, 2001.
2002 (Twenty-oh-two, if you like to be annoying) was Nick's most prolific and successful to date as, amongst other triumphs, he became more skilled at writing in the third person. His stock increased as a regular writer for Passing Show. For his hilarious articles he earned both kudos and a series of paid advertisements for the Australian Wheat Board Ltd. (see here) He was also the proud recipient of a sterling silver pen from the editors of the magazine, which he used with pride until it was lost somewhere in his car in early March 2003.
Nick amassed many more friends at university, including several women who were clearly only interested in a) his body or: b) entertainment value. In an up and down year which mixed great highs with awful lows, Nick triumphed against adversity by finally gaining his driver's licence. Further to this, he now drives the only car that was the subject of an aborted UN Environmental Convention: the 1982 Mitsubishi Sigma station wagon.
The year 2003 has picked up where 2002 left off, with a flurry of creative activity, recoginition and groupie-delivered fellatio. He wrote a short comedy, Never Rush A Good Emergency, which showed at the Macquarie University Lighthouse Theatre. He is currently busy as Head Writer for the Macquarie DRAMAC Comedy Revue and has contributed sketches to the Macquarie University Law Revue. On top of this, he now has a cool leather jacket.
Nick's likes are watersports, amateurish 'backyard' genetic engineeering experiments, curvy women, walks along the beach at sunset and the communist ideologies of Chairman Mao Zedong. His dislikes include
the government operatives that keep trying to kill him, foul body odours besides his own and himself.
ICQ Number: 30986833