I’m really, really bad at being photographed.

I do not enjoy it, partly, I suspect, because I know I am bad at it.

This makes me tense.

The tension makes me look goofy.  Or actually, somewhat like Hannibal Lector and Boris Johnson’s Evil Love-Child of Death.

(I hasten to say that Boris and Hannibal do not have an Evil Love-Child of Death. Or if they do have a child, which they don’t, the child is not evil nor in fact a love child and in no way anything to do with death. I have no wish to be sued, pilloried, or eaten. Not that any of those things would happen because everyone involved is a nice person.)

I return to my theme: I am an anti-model. It’s sort of the opposite of Gordon Brown. Gordon has nerve damage to the face which makes it impossible for him to smile naturally. When you see something you like, you grin. It’s automatic. He doesn’t have that, which is why his smile always looks false – he has to make a conscious decision to smile. I see a camera and immediately my face crunches up as if I was at the dentist’s.

Anyway… I suppose two things emerge from this:

1). Anyone who takes a half-way decent picture me is some species of genius,

and

2). I am vastly less weird-lookin’ than you make think.