Picture This.

I’m addicted to taking amusing photographs.

Well, I find them amusing. It’s a little subjective; some people may not find them funny at all. Regardless of what any detractors might think, I just can’t help myself.

I've grown used to the strange looks I get when taking them. I’ve been faced with countless flummoxed expressions whilst documenting something seemingly innocuous. I try to be discreet, though I'm often unsuccessful: I was once thrown out of a bookshop in Cork because I took a photo of this:


(God knows what they thought my reason was for taking it.)

I've come to accept that it doesn't matter what people think; the end usually justifies the means. It's also been the source of a lot of comedy material; the best pictures often end up incorporated into mine and Glyn's live act.

(I'm thirty two years old.)

My problem is I’m a natural pedant (any Daily Mail readers should look this up before scrawling it on my wall). I'm infatuated with small detail; if something is badly worded or formatted, I tend to pick up on it. I hope this doesn’t sound too smug; I’m just as happy to criticise my own mistakes as I am with other people's.

I've saved scores of amusing pictures over the years; so many that it's embarrassing. Still, people do hoard worse things on their hard-drives.


This obsession does have one depressing upshot: in years to come, everyone else will have photographs of friends and family to cherish; I'll just have pictures of signs, window displays and household implements. 

At least I will have laughed a lot.


Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

Hoo-ray and up She Rises.