He was a stand-up young man with a heart of gold and a BMI of around 16. He stood 8 glorious feet tall and had a voice like a song. His passion for animation was unparalleled, and he was prepared to fight about it at any given moment.

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He had the strength of 10 men, the wisdom of 1000 and the kindness of an old Italian grandmother. He could perform kickflips at a rate of around four-hundred-and-twenty a minute; each more radical than the last. It's hard to believe that a paragon of humanity such as this could be slain by the gnarly waves which he so loved. 

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He leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him, and I am sorry to say that he did not leave behind a child to carry on his legacy.

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He is laid to rest in the place he loved most, the underpass at Motherwell precinct.

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He will never be foggotten.

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