Candy

Having left the door open behind her, this girl will catch her death of cold dressed like that.
At least she had the good sense to put a scarf on.

Chewing your nails is a bad habit.

Weezer

Okay, so I was wrong about the colour pallete, I forgot to add monitor crash blue.


Here's another endearing type often spied peering sidelong into their webcams. Pensive young bois with distressed brit-pop hair looking for all the world like a hobbit encountering technology for their very first time.

I sense a line of dire poetry being composed.

A/S/L?

Out of a sheer fractious need for experimentation, I'm considering webcam imagery for adaptation.

Not that I don't have enough fodder in my own photo album, but ye gods - webcams seem have a limited pallette consisting of pink, green, yellow and pus. As an added bonus: people seem to have really ugly rooms with uncoordinated throw cushions scattered haphazardly over bookshelves and cats.

It has all the hallmarks of bad photography, with an unflattering forced perspective added in for good measure.
Hm...

Here's a shot of a fourteen year old girl from Florida called Candy.

Easter Egg Aunty

The Return to Planet Dumpling.

Clad in a protective outer shell, the Dumplite prepares for its return jouney to it's home planet. The parabolic shield upon its cranium should shelter it from any damage during re-entry and from burning it's doughy crust . The helmsman is similarly dressed in ceremonial garb, missing only the napkin that will be donned upon landing.

Great Uncle Fred and his wife, Isla.

Harridan Street

This is Grandma Bonner. A stately lady of gnomic proportions.

Note the empty basket ready for essential shopping items, such as lard and treacle. The high sun of Northern Queensland did not deter people from wearing gloves, hats, heavy boots and stockings, all innapropriate garb for a sub-tropic environment. A determined stroll down the main street would often elicit the need for several pauses as sturdy shoes would have to be emptied of perspiration.

Grandpa Beard

According to the brief and uninformative notes accompanying these old photos - this is "Grandpa Beard in his Sunday Best".

I actually suspect that this is no joke. I am also led to believe that this is Grandpa Beard wearing his cheesiest, brightest grin, as well.

Wackett Street

One of my few childhood photos in which I try smiling.
That's me on the left.


I've been reliably informed that I was a pretty solemn child after my parents separated and this is shown in my many generous attempts at smiling for the camera resembling something closer to a Gaze Of Death.
The reddish hotspot burned into this photo looks strangely like a Kirlian actualization of my Grimace of Joy, beaming it's way to the photographer.

This was taken in the idyllic suburb of the Laverton Airforce Base where my stepfather was posted. The boy next to me was possibly named Damien, but this is unlikely due to the fact that my appalling memory for names is only surpassed by my appalling memory for birthdays, tunes and jokes.

As I have arguably grown into a well-adjusted adult, I can look beyond my clenched teeth and uptight posture and, looking closely at the Fibro Housing Estate, can quite unequivocably state that Laverton was an ugly shithole.