There has been much debate about primitive man. What he looked like, what he wore, what he ate and how intelligent he was.

Most of us imagine a bearded, ape-like chap scurrying around in a loin cloth, chucking rocks at sabre-tooth tigers. And we don't believe he had much in the way of brains.

It was always thought that neanderthals got all their tools by stealing from the cleverer homo sapiens (our ancestors).

But new archaeological finds have proved that they were not so stupid and did make their own cutlery, jewellery and tools. So they weren't so primitive after all.

What a shame - modern man always assumes he is cleverer than other species, and for a long time academics have taken great pleasure in labelling neanderthal man (who, being extinct, can't get a slot on Mastermind to prove them wrong) a dimwit.

Who can they poke fun at now? Well, academics need not worry - primitive man is alive and well and living in Bradford.

Aged between 17 and 30, he lies low during the week, spending his evenings in front of the telly, while mum cooks his supper. But on Friday and Saturday nights he leaves his suburban lair and sets off in search of a good time.

Clad in replica football shirt and trousers ironed by his mum, he attempts to sprint to the bus stop, but his £800 trainers, with their in-built traffic lights, CD player and shaving kit, proves too heavy and he misses the bus.

Half an hour later he boards the next one, but (after years of catching the number 27) he hasn't got the right change, so ends up shuffling into town on foot.

Once there, his under-developed hearing sends him hurtling towards the hostelry with the most deafeningly loud music, where he effortlessly sinks a few pints of his favoured brew.

A dozen more pubs, a dozen more pints and he's swaggering to a club, where his basic hunting skills come to the fore as he slowly stalks, then closes in on members of the opposite sex.

In common with most primitive species, his conversation is made up of a series of grunts, with translation into modern-day English being impossible.

Upon the dance floor, his movements are not unlike those of a mighty dinosaur. Other revellers do not warm to primitive man and even go as far as to deliberately steer clear of this lumbering beast.

Interestingly, he doesn't leave the club by the normal means, but is hurled out by two burly doormen.

Primitive man may not be steady on his feet, but his sense of smell is excellent, as he sniffs out a burger van five streets away. Far be it from making his own cutlery, this man's philosophy is: "Why use knives and forks when you can use your fingers?"

And off he meanders to the taxi rank for a cab home. If he's on form he'll either have forgotten his address, have no money left, or throw up all over the back seat.

Do you know this man? Maybe you're living with him. If so, don't write him off as a useless, lazy, good-for-nothing slob. You're looking at an important piece in the complex jigsaw of evolution.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.