"We have met Mr. Purple Robert. It was a Jarring experience. His devotional poetry is good, HOWEVER, BE WARNED, IT IS NOT FOR YOUR AVERAGE CHURCH-GOER. If you want to be challenged and offended into deeper thought, then he is your man. His controversial nature means that we have to keep him 'at arms length.' Consequently, Mr. Purple has his own Website & Takes care of His own 'Bookings & Appearances.' We only print his books. If he offends you, and he will, please take it up directly with him. Thank You."
Purple Robert is a 59-year-old bohemian layabout who enjoys rage, reading, and putting recyclable products in the normal blue bin. He is friendly but unreliable, and can also be very lazy and a bit untidy. He is allergic to grasshoppers but loves Rock-Hopper Penguins. Surprisingly, his favorite color is red?
His best friend, Paul, claims to be a former international super spy who now works with the homeless. They enjoy horse riding, praying, and playing chess, Ska & listening to Bad Manners.
Purple Robert is intelligent and reliable, but can also be very rude and a bit impatient. He is a British Christian who defines himself as undersexed? He claims to have PHD in flatulence from Sussex University, though does not use it in his titles as he later refused to rewrite his thesis after successfully passing his VIVA 'with corrections.'
He is tall with bronze skin, silver or purple hair (depending on the month) and black eyes.
He grew up in an upper class neighborhood. He was raised in a happy family home with two loving parents and a hamster, and also attended Public school before being expelled for ignorant indolence and obvious working-class leanings.
He is currently married to Amanda Amagoochi, a former heavy-metal roadie, who is 18 years older than him and dying. As a poor poet he currently enjoys her pension but is looking forward to the inheritance and selling the amps.
It's gonna be a big deal! Watch this space.
“ Someone introduced Purple Robert saying,
“In those distant days of the Druids, during those dark times, to be a Poet was a special calling. To the Celts to be a Poet was to hold a sacred office, even to be endued with supernatural powers and the capacity to see mysteries that only they could see, mysteries that ordinary mortals like you and me could barely comprehend! J There was a legend that went around Ireland in the days of the Celts, about a certain Salmon fish that lived in a certain river. If you were able to catch it and cook it slowly without burning it, and then consume it, you would be anointed into this sacred office of the Poet-Seer, even this very exclusive world of seeing and saying things that nobody else could. I give to you one such person, one who has undoubtedly caught this mystical Salmon, one who has eaten it and been anointed, one who has seen other worlds and their secrets, secrets revealed only to those with Poetic Priesthood’s eyes. He is known to those of us who have been captured by his Poetic spell as, Purple Robert, Seer of Unseeable Things & Master of Magical Words!"
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