I started life as an embryo, inside a womb funnily enough. This womb was warm and I regarded this as my home for many months. The living conditions where great, I would sleep, get up to sleep more, absorb nutrients from my mother, and go back to sleep, to do it all over again in another half hour. I had a small studio set up so I didn't waste my time all day inside there doing nothing. I made quite a few banging tunes whilst i was 'in fetu', however there was no means of recording them as MiniDiscs where not invented then and I wouldnt like to see someone try and get a CD inside a womb... ouch!

So I was finally born and the songs where lost. Oh well they were crap anyway. I was raised by a small pack of wolves, where I met my brother (thrice removed) called Mowgli. You may remember him from such films and books such as 'The Jungle Book', 'The Jungle Book 2: Balloo Strikes Back' and 'The Jungle Book 3: Return Of The Thingymabob'. There were a few more but they went straight to TV as Mowgli was replaced with a younger actor who just didnt have the same on-screen presence.

My father, a medicine man from the jungle, and chief executive of Guantanamo airport raised me into a fine standing citizen where at the age of 5 he sent me out to fend for myself in the urban jungle. This was a new experience for me as I had been used to savaging animals and marauding their flesh for so many years, but this was apparently not acceptable here in New York City.

After spending 3 months in New York harbour living in a home made from boxes, wood and random other miscellanium, I found myself caught up inside a war. This was the war between New York and Papa New Guinea back in '87. This was a terrible time; bombs everywhere, people dying, fish flying, babies crying, and other things that end in -ying (eg 'lying', 'multiplying').

It was then I knew what I had to do- do the honourable thing and defend my country. But I wasn't going to do that so I ran away as far away from New York as I could, but got caught and called a traitor. I was whipped and tortured into enrolling to the army, which at the age of 5 was quite daunting.

I was trained for a month before being sent off to Vietnam, which was quite odd as we were fighting Papa New Guinea, but I met plenty of good friends. We had some great times in Vietnam, we would stay up late by the camp fire retelling old stories and singing songs. Shame I killed them all.

Me and 'Bleeper' wrote probably the greatest song ever, it was called 'Loteria' which I have to say the lyrics where incredible; the man was a genius. I still have his severed head somewhere but due to moving house all the time, it's probably in a box in the attic somewhere.

After half a year, New York lost the war, 7-6 to Papa New Guinea, who scored a late victory in the 92nd month. Unlucky. Anyway so I was stuck in Vietnam with no-one to speak to and no money or food. I emigrated to Chad within the same year by using an empty crisp packet and half a coconut. When I reached there I was taken in by the natives as one of them and celebrated my 7th birthday by having my feet burned and licked by iguanas.

They taught me interesting survival skills such as how to play the drums and make fires my simply extending my thumb and winking. I kept this knowledge safe in my head just in case. It was here where I discovered Death Metal. The natives would blast out hardcore riffs and terrifying screams from their mudhuts whilst cooking up voodoo potions and hexes. I formed a small thrash group with a few friends but our bass player !Xabbuti developed Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and could never use his right hand ever again.

When I started school at 8 I decided to study HND 'motor vehicle' and 'particle physics' at Masters Degree, however I gave them both up to move to Russia to get an apprentiship in keyboard manufacture. I worked at a factory where I had to produce synthesizers for the Nazi Mafia and other similar large US corporations such as 'Microsoft', 'Sky' and 'Herbal Essences'.

This became both tiresome and boring, the pay was simply terrible so I became a gypsie and travelled around a lot in a cool van which you could take a dump in. I had never seen one of these before, so I would take advantage of the facility just so I could say that I have taken a dump in a moving vehicle. This is where I met my first love. I was 8 and she was 9, she was called 'Khanu Mia Loteria Szachy Silvirebella Sorojam' and had the greatest pair of eyes I had ever seen. She also stank of piss and those almond biscuits you get free with capuccinos, but hey... i was in love.

We decided we wanted to start a family, she wasn't getting any younger and in around 30 years time she would lose the chance to ever have kids, so time was of the essence and I had to think quickly if I actually wanted to have kids. I realised that I was too young, and gave her the biggest disappointment of her life... Overnight, she turned into a 39 year old, and I was left as just an 8 year old boy. Within weeks she was 82 and died of a broken heart...

Well the doctors say it was kidney failure but I think it adds a more dramatic effect the way I say it. So I had to move on, but depression and guilt hung over me like a bad smell, where I turned to drink, drugs, drinking drugs and drugging drinks. For the latter, I got sentenced to 3 months in County Durham. No, I meant County Jail... Sorry.

Prison was a scary place but helped me get over Khanu Mia Loteria Szachy Silvirebella Sorojam. With an unhealthy display of prison meat on offer, I decided to spend my time hiding from the showers, and empty corridors, where I took up sewing and became the champion in footwear testing class. I still have the medals and bruises to prove it. Within a few months I was a reformed smaquead, and took great joy in waving goodbye to all the kraquors and kinkladsi's who became my friends during that period of time. Shame I didn't get a chance to kill them...

Trying to get work when it says on your CV that you've been in prison is impossible. I moved to Britain where I thought I could find a job however I had the same problem. But I thought back to my days in Chad, and I appraoched a small gas company where I gave them an idea for an advert. I showed them my trick of making fires with my thumb and they loved it. The British Gas company who's name I cannot reveal for legal reasons became a great success, and I recieved a fat ass cheque. I'm still living off the royalties now.

I gave up the idea of work for a while and decided that maybe it's about time I started behaving like a normal pre-adolescent. So I turned down a chance at inheriting the throne as the next King of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwll-llantysiliogogogoch and decided to start high school.

However I was slightly too young so I needed to complete the final year in Primary School. I met a young chap by the name of Danny Chi, a half Welsh, half Chinese boy who was excellent at math and had an extroadinary talent for hearing helipcopters every time he scratched his head. I graduated primary school with a masters degree in spelling and my ten times table (thats from 1-10 you know... including the hard ones such as the 6 AND 7 times table). This Danny Chi feller died later that year and was buried in Kidderminister.

High school to me was worst than prison. It scared the shy 'T' out of me. However Danny Chi was resurrected and soon became my only friend in high school. We looked like the same person, almost brothers, so I would call him Mowgli and he would call me 'Wa-Hamaaaaaaa'. We would soon work our way up through the social ladder and became 'special needs monitors' which to everyone at our school really knew it meant 'special needs mafia'!

We would go around checking up on all the bins to make sure they were attending their special needs classes and if they didn't... well not many bins are still standing to explain. We were feared throughout what was known as 'Dingle Hill' a breeding ground for rats and young thespians. However, a resistance was formed against us in retaliation for a bin who got 'kicked'. Little did we know that a bin we did over was in fact a recycled form of a carrier bag that Hitler once used to bring his PE kit in to school with.

Soon the hunters where the hunted... A killer known as 'The Old Man' was watching our every move waiting for us to slip up and then pounce on us and chase us around blue vans in circles instead of just buggering off in different directions... The mind control he had! Gaah.

We accepted defeat, gave up our positions and took up insulting Irish people. This would be the case for the resulting 2/3 years. I then formed a high school band incorporating Swedish Pop and Hardcore Reggae Dub influenced Dance Music, we where called 'gABBA'. There were two guys and two women yet it failed miserably as one of the girls became 27 overnight and had to leave high school.

During the final years of high school I discovered a computer, locked myself away from friends and took up swordfishing. I would order exotic dishes online from around the world such as Frog Sushi and Plasma Dungeon Profiteroles. I soon became allergic to anything that was yellow and had to walk blindfolded just in case I saw my teeth in the mirror. I visited the hospital on numerous occassions during this period of time. Once I ate a salmon breast whole and nearly died as my throat had been blocked. If I had just swallowed in the first place, I wouldn't have been choking all this time.

I made a few albums and EPs which were tripe, and then made more. And then some more. I would sample mothers giving birth and play them along to drum beats made from eyelids closing as a bass drum sound and the 'plop' of a hardish turd as it claps against the toilet bowl water, as a snare drum.

I recorded them all in exotic locations. One EP was done using a spoon and an empty airplance meal tray in the Himalayas, and one of my favourites was recorded in a 2x4 meter box within 6 days without eating or using the toilet. I made the last one in my bedroom. See it's boring when you tell the truth...

-Ramid Cinajob

aka. Dj Flomo (formerly known as) Flo (aka) Al Khaliq (formerly known as) Bert Reynolds; the love child of Engelbert Humperdink and the woman who owns 4 Seasons Florist, West End, Colwyn Bay.