Also on this very day
there is a man nameth Jules Begoune
a man who has just published a further volume
of his autobiography
to be read aloud today.
Thank you, Setting. I think I narrate myself from here ‘And as I entered, I paused (PAUSE) and I looked around (HIS VOICE TRAILS OFF AS HE LOOKS AROUND FOR THE AUDIENCE, AND FINALLY LOW INTO THE MIC…) oh, I didn’t see you there…
I wouldn’t have done it so literally myself.
Sorry about that.
Hello, I’m literary wonder, wunderkind, auto-biographer JULES BEGOUNE. I was born in Coventry on a rainy, but then sunny morning, at Winchester farm. A cow saw me be born – you might say I was Jesus. My mother’s name was Mary. She had sexual relations with a man named Jose and so I was created.
My father ran away from his Hispanic past, and even further away from us. My mother brought me up on cow meat and grass. I wore a sac of potatoes as a dress. I didn’t have trousers.
I’m so working class; it’s just not true. I think I was the poorest boy at my school. And I was ignored, the runt of the pack. This might explain why I’m such an egomaniac. But enough about you. What about me?
I’m signing copies of my autobiography tonight in the main auditorium of the biblio at my book signing and press launch. Hope to see you there. It explores the real me – the true me – the better me – you know me.