Photo Booth

Last night I wanted to take a photo of Jenn and I together—we’ve taken like 634985 of each other individually the last few days, but I wanted a nice one of us together. So, despite the fact that I was dying from the heat inside this flat (it stays at a nice, steamy 120 degrees all of the time in here I think), I insisted that we sit down together in front of my laptop and use the photobooth application to capture us together in London.

However, after a few tries, I was growing frustrated. Due to the heat, I kept feeling like my hair was all over the place and my face looked like I’d just spent like four hours in a tropical jungle. Jenn, ever the optimist when it comes to photos, insisted that we keep trying. She said I just needed to be more confident with my photos. And so she proceeded to show me multiple “sexy” poses and then insist that I try as well.

I do not do “sexy.” At least not very well. Mostly, when I try to be sexy, I end up busting out laughing. And actually, the photos with me laughing were better than the ones where I wasn’t. Because in those photos, my bottom lip looks like it’s the size of a Big Mac. That’s why I have to smile in pictures. Or the lip gets out of control.

I would share with you all of the sexy shots of Jenn because, somehow, she actually looks normal, but it would look creepy if I had that many single shots of Jenn. I can’t show you any of the “sexy” shots of me because they’ve all been deleted.



Except this one. This is Jenn and I together and she is actually growling at the camera and telling me to do the same. I tried. Pretty unsuccessfully really. And ended up with a picture with my mouth open. Which is how I look in an unusually large amount of my photos anyway. It’s a good shot though because it does capture the moment of Jenn trying to teach me how to look hot in front of photobooth. Which is a very large variation from what I usually do in front of photo booth. To see that… scroll down.