I tower above my peers, standing 12 foot in my bare feet, which I always do for I can never find shoes to fit, nor would I want to. The skin of the soles of my feet is thick, calloused and leathery, and I can – and often have – paused for thought while doing a fire walk, to enjoy the faint warming sensation that results.

The spread of my arms, when fully akimbo, is enough to encompass the tallest redwood, and I can lift a full grown Chianina bull (the Chianina being the heaviest breed of cow in the world) with each hand.

Talking of my hands, I can crack a coconut between the knuckles of my first two fingers, yet am swift, and deft, enough to snatch a single toe from a passing mosquito in flight without disturbing its trajectory.

My head, well let me tell you that to most it is hard to see me clearly, for the locks of my hair are wrought with thunderbolts and flashes of lightning. Stories of the gods, such as Zeus, were made by men gazing up at me without understanding what it was that they were seeing. That said, I am, by the accounts of those who have persevered, extraordinarily attractive; my jawbone and cheeks finely chiselled, my lips full and eminently kissable, my eye lashes long and luscious.

My penis is average, according to a Cosmo article I once read.