I need to teach someone else to take my pictures for me.
One might have difficulty seeing the flaws depending on the device one is using to view this page. Our statistics tell us that between 60-70% of you are using a mobile device, which means you’re not seeing the pictures as large as I am. Consider yourself blessed. These are not my best pictures by a long shot. Look at the catch in the eyes. You should only see one little spec of light there, not two, or something that appears elongated. The photo is out of focus. Every damn one of them.
That’s what I get for trying to take my own photos anymore. I considered tossing them all in the trash but thought this might make a good teaching moment. The lesson here is this: if you’re thinking about taking a selfie, don’t. Hand the fucking camera or phone (most likely) to someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing. You’re going to ruin the shot.
The problem with following that advice is that if you are like me there’s never anyone else around when you’re actually in the mood to take a picture, or have what you consider a good reason to take a picture. I figure it had been over a year since I last took any pictures of me, and since this is the very last day on which I am 55-year-old, then it is high time I took some for the sake of posterity. So, we did, and this is what we got out of it. Bah.
I’m blaming the interruptions. There was an interruption to go with every photo. Most of them had something to do with the dog Kat rescued from the middle of the street yesterday. Now, mind you, I’m glad she stopped and rescued the dog. I hate seeing where animals have been hit. Drivers are so heartless anymore. No one stops. No one bothers to see if the dog’s owner is nearby. Rescuing the dog was a good thing.
However, upon bringing him to our house she then turned around and went to school. I’ve been left to deal with the little guy. He’s been rather high maintenance so far. Our dog is three times his size. We have four cats who instantly took a dislike to him. His presence has made things challenging
So, it was snap a picture, run check on the commotion in the back bedroom. Snap another picture, hunt down and clean up where our visitor decided to poop. Snap another picture, and take the dog out to Grandpa Bob who took him to see if he’s been chipped. Snap another picture, respond to urgent email. Snap another picture … you get the idea.
Perhaps I could be excused for fucking up the focus if I were ten years old. I’m not, though. I know how to do this. But I didn’t. These pictures weren’t that important to me. They weren’t worth that extra five seconds. I have things to do.
I’m going to stop bitching about the photos now, even though that’s very much the old man sort of thing I do these days. Here are the pictures. Learn from them. Please. Don’t take pictures like this.
This is how I look when I’m writing. Sort of. Normally you’d just see the back of my head.
I only smoke when I’m stressed and trying to relax. I normally go outside, hence the cap. I’ve been stressed far too much lately. I’m probably going to die.
Music calms the savage beast, huh? I must be listening to the wrong thing.
Scotch, it’s what’s for dinner. And lunch. And sometimes breakfast.