Carl was spawned on December 1st, 1968 in Toronto, Canada to a high school history teacher (Dad) and an elementary school teacher (Mom). The eldest of three children, Carl was voted by Fate as Most Likely To Be A Pain In His Parents' Collective Ass and has lived up to that expectation.

Attending a Catholic elementary school, Carl came to the conclusion that anyone who tries to mould a person's mind using a theological vice grip should rot in hell (although at the time those thoughts were more along the lines of "Mr. R. is a dick."). Carl graduated high school with no noteworthy commendations, other than the Dingbat Award in instrumental music class for being a smart mouth little jerk, which the teacher found refreshing for some bizarre reason. He finished his education at York University in 1993, an experience that consisted of hanging out in pubs, hanging out with some remarkable women but failing to get past the "C-c-can I buy you a d-d-d-drink?" phase because he was so shy. He attended class every third Tuesday of the month but still managed to pass all his courses. No controlled substances or sexual favours were exchanged...but there was this one hottie student teacher...

Somewhere between university and the present Carl grew up; that's what he likes to think, anyway. He has come to realize that nothing matters more than family and friends, which are in essence the same thing as far as he's concerned. He's also quite sure his girlfriend is mentally challenged because she has just as much tolerance for his antics as his parents, although she did find his sex game with the barbeque tongs and the hair gel a little disturbing.

Carl is addicted to Japanese and East Indian cuisine, green tea, Guinness and sex. He loves metal of all kinds...except for cheesy 4/4 kiddie goth rock, cooking, writing, photography, women, Third Rock From The Sun and being at home in Toronto (what he calls civilization). And ketchup flavoured potato chips. He hates racists, broccoli, Diet Coke, people who don't have the balls to trash talk to one's face, and those little bastards on the subway that test out the ringtones on their mobile phones for the benefit of everyone else around them.

Carl's dream is to own a house in Toronto big enough to accomdate his ever growing CD collection, the guitars he hasn't bought yet and his king-size ego. He has been a faithful and willing soldier in BW&BK's march towards world domination for the past 10 years; for more info on the mag go to www.bravewords.com .