The Selfie

So, here we are. The year 2016. And due to enormous peer pressure I have finally relented and created a blog. A weekly journal of my own thoughts, observations, musings and general scepticism. It is not intended to deliberately offend anybody, but it most definitely will. My hands are tied. Please enjoy.

If you don't like it or if you are one of these modern day, hyper-sensitive, hipstery, metro-sexual, craft beer, quiona salad types then you know where the door is. However, if you happen to fit the description above and would still like to read on regardless, then you are most welcome.

My oh my how things have changed in the last 20 years. Where did all those years go? I hear you lament. Well, the years have gone, and that's just that. We can do sod all about it. Tough. Life is hard. Get used to it. Time waits for no man. Although some women seem to think it might.

Drinking whale placenta, injecting oneself with corrosive chemicals, applying solutions and poultices made from moss and bits of trees to one's face, and exposing oneself to hour after hour of artificial sunlight despite the huge risk of developing terminal cancer or being burned to death slowly from the inside out are just some of the extreme measures the modern lady will take in the name of vanity and in a futile, desperate, hopeless attempt to not only slow down the ageing process, but actually reverse it. Once these tasks are complete, it is customary for the lady to share her new look with the entire world. Once the concrete has set, of course.

Which brings me to the Selfie.
A craze which is sweeping the world in recent times. When I was a fresh-faced 17 year old and started to take an interest in girls, booze, cigarettes, snack boxes and general jigery-pokery, and long before the weight of this world crushed my spirit and exuberance, I had what was known as a 35mm camera. In those days taking a snap was a bit of an ordeal. You first had to load the film, wind it on carefully, then you had only 26 exposures to last all night. (A film cost 5 pounds, nobody could afford 2 films!) Then, if you were pissed, you'd say a little prayer and hope that you didn't load the film arseways and destroy 26 fabulous memories of a great night out. Then on Monday, I'd take my film to the local jewellers shop to be developed, where I then had to wait an entire week for my pictures to be returned, that is, if I didn't fuck up the film in the first place.

Apologies, I digress. Back to the selfie.
Given the huge advancements in techology and the availability of the internet to all nowadays, we can safely say there is no such thing as privacy anymore. You can't piss crooked these days without being photographed or recorded. This doesn't seem to phase the younger generation however. In fact, most embrace it. They don't seem to care if a picture of them asleep on the toilet or eating chips straight off the road pops up on social media. And when there's nobody else around to document your embarrassment, why not do it yourself! Or, after a long session of shaving off perfectly good eyebrows and replacing them with exclamation marks painted on at right angles a half an inch away from where they should be, its only right and proper to take a picture of yourself and let everybody see it. Instantly. Then sit back and wait for the likes and comments to roll in: u luk fab hun ...swit swoo... omg wtf u bg rde...etc etc.
And in the unlikely event of your ego not being sufficiently massaged, you can purchase a selfie stick. A telescopic pole that balances your smartphone atop, which also doubles as an extension of your amour-propre. This device is particularly useful if you have overdone it on the poly-filler, or have injected too much goose fat into your lips. It provides a distance prospective, and will make you look less like a constipated trout when you pull that silly pouting face.

Back in my day, we smiled at the camera....

See you next week.