I dont quite know how to approach this topic, so Im just going to dive straight in there.

About an hour ago I had a shower, loofered myself, then had a shave. Post-shave, I balmed my face (not be confused with embalming) then sat myself down for an all-over moisturise and cocoa buttering. Yes, you heard me right, what of it. I dont care, laugh and insinuate all you like!

Any way, on reaching my right ankle I was disturbed to see it was 'creased'. Like an elephant, only not grey. Now before you all state that Im in denial about wrinkles, I would like to say they were not. For starters, Im not sure Ive heard of a documented case of ankle wrinkling before. I know those of an older persuasion get saggy skin there but thats not quite the same.

At first I toyed with the idea of getting the iron out, then I thought of sellotaping the skin back flat.

How on earth does one get a creased ankle for fucks sake?

There is a happy ending to this story - the creases have now disappeared. But for a few scary minutes I was worried that I might have caught a bout of isolated tissue shrinkage in my right leg.

Panic over.

Another day, and another daft thought.

During a conversation the other day, the phrase 'Im going to have a shit' was uttered. Quite an ordinary and common saying, spoken by many a person on a daily basis Im sure.

However, it did get me thinking about the peculiarity of the English language and also our potential misuse of it.

For instance, take this phrase: 'Ooh, Im thirsty, I think Im going to have a coffee.' Or 'Im going to have a sandwich'. Now picture what actions they convey.

Now apply the same rationale to 'Im going to have a shit' and all of a sudden it doesnt sound quite the right way of saying things.

Right, Im off for a dump.

...on second thoughts, best not to.

If I was walking down the street and someone shouted, 'hey, David Bailey' I'd probably just ignore them thinking they were talking to someone else.
Or I'd smile warily, raise my head in acknowledgement, whilst furiously scanning around for anyone wearing white and hoping they were approaching fast. Preferably with a net or tazar.
Or I'd perhaps think you were taking the mickey out of me and give you a look as though you had just shat all over my Prince collection.

Then, either further down the street, or later on in the day, I'd remember, and feel incredibly bad about ignoring you or being rude to you.

Shall I get to the point now? Okay, if I must.

I've had a very fulfilling weekend of which Im very very proud. Having no photography experience whatsoever, Im proud as a peacock to have been able to take what turned out to be some very good and very professional looking modelling shots. Proud because 'the boy done well' as they say in football parlance, and proud because Im glad I didnt let the model down. She, of course, made the photos more than I did, due to me having such a gorgeous photogenic model to work with, but we are both ecstatic at how they came out.

I was worried I wouldnt be up to the task, but by jove, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and who cares if Im blowing my own brass instrument, but there are about 30 to 40 very good shots.

The beautiful lady in question looks even more beautiful, and Im glad that she has now got a semi-professional looking portfolio started, and that, I hope, they helped secure some proper work, because she deserves it. Roll on the next shoot!

It was a really fun weekend shooting them, and good to feel such a sense of achievement for someone (as well as myself obviously) whilst having a bloody good time doing it.

Ive got the bug now...