Tag: girls

Shannon, Shirly, our Berber guide, and the rest of our camel caravan

Mounting a camel is exciting. Dismounting a camel is dangerous. Riding a camel… well, riding a camel is like riding a roller coaster that has had its safety harness removed and its uncomfortable comfortable seats ripped out in favor of a hulking, strangely muscular, smelly beast that is less comfortable to sit on than Weird Uncle Jim’s knee. I don’t know if it was because I was tall, or because my camel (which Shannon had named Douglas) had eight extra…

Our Berber guide stares at some very small camels, in the Sahara desert

For the last 12 months, I have been doing almost everything with a girl called Shannon. By “everything” I do mean everything. It started off with chatting, and then a few weeks later flirting, and then, as is the natural progression of such things, eloping. We followed that up with eating, travelling around Europe, drinking lots of alcohol, exercising, watching awful TV, and being caught by the police for a crime that we (arguably) didn’t commit. Then, of course, to…

Shannon in full flight, on the Isle of Skye, chasing some sheep

Girls. I wonder if I’ll ever understand them fully. Just when you think you know what’s going on — when you think, after days and weeks of hard graft, that you’re nearing some kind of blissful breakthrough, it all goes to shit and you’re unceremoniously dumped at square one. Sometimes, if you’ve really fucked up, you’ll get shunted back even further, leaving you yearning for square one rather than square -628. After such an experience, while still dazed and confused…

Zoom in on a little, diesel Volkswagen, buzzing and sputtering across the sparse, orange Croatian scrub. It’s a taxi, though there are no signs or licenses or anything like that. Thinking back, I probably shouldn’t have entrusted my life to a man with only a fistful of teeth, a vibrating dashboard and no taxi-driving license. But still, when you have to catch a flight, what are your options? So, there we are, bouncing quickly across a rough Croatian road. It’s…

It’s like shooting really expensive koi in a barrel & Lie in Seb: I shot my first ever naked torso yesterday. Unfortunately it was a male torso — greased and creased with perfectly-defined pecs and abs — but surely it’s only a matter of time until a girl asks me for the same… service. Either that, or I have a future of all-male calendar photography ahead of me… For some reason, right next to where we were doing the shoot…

It’s funny how things go. I was reading something ‘on miracles’ recently — the general gist: we forget every moment that isn’t miraculous. Take this weekend for example — no less than five of my friends were in London, all for completely different reasons. We just… ended up there. All roads lead to London, or something. Most people would say ‘oh, what’re the chances?!?!’ but… think about it — think about all the times we haven’t all ended up in…