Anthea Jones looks like a tall man with a beard and lives in a cave with a family of stoats. Plus, her beard is ginger. Urgh.Her close proximity to such ermine beasties as lead her to study them. Short on choices, in truth it was either that or trying to mate with one. Not easy. They are wiley.
By dint of Anthea's dedication, and exhaustive research, the world of science is now able to make the following authoritiative statements without fear of contradiction:
1. Stoats are by no means a match for 4 badgers drowning in a barrel of sputum at the game of Mah Jong.
2. Stoats cannot spell "stoat".
3. Some people are very strange indeed.
Anthea is now 49 years old and has never splashed the milk of human kindness on her cereal, but she has pooed in the shoe of a man who later turned out to have a third nipple. She went on to eat him alive over the course of several days, but always to the tune of "She'll be coming round the mountain" as played on a set of bag pipes made exclusively from sedated stoat pups.
To quote Anthea herself "There is no limit to what I can accomplish". We all know this is a lie.
In her spare time she plays volleyball for a team of entirely imaginary marmots, and puts thumb tacks in slightly less imaginary elderly toads.
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