A while ago I mentioned I couldn’t bring myself over to the idea of carrying around a camera like most people seem to do these days, and stop and take photos of myself in everyday situations, putting on my best fake smile to make it look like I actually enjoy walking around in the rain, or riding the bus. Facebook tells me that I’ve been tagged in over 1000 pictures though, which means I’ve made the right kind of photo-taking friends who are going to graduate to become paparazzi. I’m lucky like that, because I’m crap at taking photos myself; I was uploading some from my phone which I’ve had for around a year and it totalled to around 20 photos. So around 1.6 photos a month. Yes, I am the ultimate photo whore.

But then I realised that it’s actually FUN to go around taking pictures of stuff. I started to see how entertaining it is to go around intentionally looking for ridiculous and stupid shit, then trying to put a story along with it by making it a bigger deal than it actually is. Basically, imitating the work of the media today. I still can’t get my head around the idea of going to a club and wearing the same expression from an angle and ending up with the same photo a hundred times but with a different dickhead in the background trying to be funny. You could be doing better things with your hands, like punching yourself in the face or masterbating. Hell, you have two hands, you can do both at the same time!

But yes, now I had seen the light and would be even more overly-analytical, inquisitive and slightly cynical about the world around me by providing photographic evidence of my insanity! 2 days ago, it started snowing pretty heavily in Brighton, so I decided to get out my camera and run around taking photos of the town turned white. Which is proof as to how fucked up and unpredictable the weather is in England. If by some miracle it’s not raining, people feel the need to run out and take a million photos of the snow or sunshine. I personally never leave the house when the sun is out, because I’ve forgotten what it is. I refuse to believe it exists here anymore, and that it’s really just some kind of trick to get us out the house so the rain can get us.
So, I decided to go to my University campus where the snow would be extra deep. What I saw was sliding down hills and HUGE snowmen and attacking foreign students with snowballs and then bricks if they thought we were initiating a fun-filled snowball fight.

So yes, knowing my luck the minute I start developing a fetish for taking photos of snow struck landscapes, wildlife and my friends in the shower, the snow decides to fucking eat my camera. Suddenly, it being so plentiful and deep wasn’t a good thing. I looked around for ages, but couldn’t find it anywhere and it’s much easier to be paranoid and blame others for your own shortcomings, so between me and you… I think it was either the Chinese or Indian guys that my friend and I kind of know. I don’t want to seem like I’m pointing fingers because they’re from Asia, but I think they definitely took it because they’re Asian. I’m starting to think that India and China sent out special agents to for some reason, steal my camera, causing me to hate the once joy-bringing snow, ensuring a coalition between the two countries. At first, this sounded a bit irrational, maybe even crazy. But it makes more sense than admitting I’m a clumsy dumbass.

So yeah, after all the walking around town, taking photos of the beach covered in a blanket of snow, the photgraphic proof of me stopping a bank robbery whilst stuck in a sleeping bag and wearing a Burger King crown and the videos of us sledging and sliding down steep hills on a metal sheet, I really only have one photo relevant to my whole experience in the snow:

Yes, cutting the fingers off my only pair of gloves suddenly didn’t seem so — oh shit, stupid pun — COOL anymore. And the shit photo quality of my phone does not make me any less angry angry at this jackass snow that refuses to melt.

Fuck this shit and bring the Summer on so I can whine about how hot it is.