Once upon a time I got asked to write a bio of myself.

I tried to get Lynnae to write my bio for me.  So far she's ignoring my email.


So, I decided to delve into the depths of my humility and have written one for myself.


Savannah Woods was born on a magical night when ponies and rainbows showered love upon the grumpy people of Worcestershire.  Yes, ponies shower love.  With a shower head.  Wear a cap, or you might get too much love in your hair.

Ahem.

As I was saying, it was a magical night, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Savannah's birth, but it was cool.

When she was six she ate a leaf for fun, and her dad made her drink ipecac syrup and she puked cocoa pebbles all over the floor.

Later she ate a leaf for the sake of eating, but that was okay because it was lettuce.

You know, most people don't like iceberg lettuce, but I find it refreshing.  Much like the Titanic.  Like a biiiiiig gulp of water.

Right.  I'm writing a bio here.

Anywho, Savannah now lives in a small hut in the Alps (those are a series of small pools in Russia) and edits remotely via goat-messages.  If she's late for a deadline she'll sing an incantation by the alp-pools until sirens come out and beg her to stop and swear on their little-mermaid-esque voices that if she'll tie her vocal chords in a knot, they'll convince whichever lord of time is in charge of Russian pools to hold back time until she's finished her project.

And that is why she was named after a grassland in Africa.