The Mad Hatter- an autobiography
If you are reading this, then I suppose you must be interested to know just what sort of things go on in my head. That's the whole point of an autobiography, you know. Nobody wants a history of your life, but if you have a weird brain, everybody will want to know what you think.
Well, I think quite simply, really.
Would you like a cup of tea?
No? I'll carry on then.
You see? If everybody thought like this, I tell you there'd be no wars or fighting. Of course, we might run out of tea. That's always a thought.
But you don't want any so we might just manage.
Did you know, if you inhale, sneeze, cough, and bend over all at the same time, your brain explodes? At least, that's what the March Hare told me.
I asked him how he knew.
Anyway, as you have probably guessed from my title, I am a hatter. That means most of my life revolves around hats, and THAT means this autobiography will be about them. Thirtea years as a hatter have given me a distinguished opinion on the matter of hats. Firstly, buy one that fits you. There's nothing worse than having a big brain and being clever, and then it turning out that your brain is much too big for a hat to fit over the top. Of course, if you've got a hat that small, you probably aren't that clever anyway.
The second thing is to buy a hat that you like. Why buy a hat that you don't like? You only have one life to make the most of you, and if that means buying a hat nobody else likes, then go ahead and do it. I've done it several times. Maybe a wide brimmed hat does look silly but it keeps you from getting wet when it rains. Which is always nice.
The third thing is to buy a hat from me, because I make the best ones and I need the money. I throw the coins in a pond for luck, you see.
Would you like a cup of tea? No? More for the rest of the now- peaceful world, then.