Tiredness can kill...

"Any sense of humour you usually have will instantly perish the moment you realise you're living on 2 hours sleep you managed to snatch at some ungodly hour when you passed out fully-clothed on your bed, wrapped in the cosy embrace of half a litre of Jack Daniels..." - Matt Clemenson, 20/10/2012

So yeah, last night me and my flatmate Sheldon stayed in and were trying to watch a pretty intense political thriller when a couple of girls from the flat above paid us a visit. Boy can they drink. Suffice to say after a pretty eventful and embarrassing game of "I have never", a couple of interesting videos watched on YouTube (which were much, much funnier when we were drunk than when we watched them back sober and just though, WTF? ), and a weird incident involving a drunk Norwegian and a large medicine ball, no-one was in a particularly fit state to go for a jog or anything this morning. Getting into bed at 5 was heavenly - waking up at 7 to a world spinning at about 40 miles per hour was not. Not in the slightest. I mean, me and Sheldon had honestly been determined to have a quiet one last night. I guess fate had a different plan - God really does work in mysterious ways.

Anyways, around 2 o'clock in the afternoon, with the hangover still heavy on my head, I remembered I had offered to take part in a photo-shoot for a friend of mine on the beach that day. Uh-oh. I won't go into too many details, but the shoot involved me sitting in a freezing cold rock pool fully clothed, going for a nice little stroll through the also freezing cold sea (still fully clothed here), and then walking back through an empty Falmouth hungry and absolutely cream-crackered.  My lack of sleep essentially meant I was a walking zombie the entire day, and inevitably at about 8 o'clock this evening I gave in and had a 2 and a half hour nap - I don't think my sleeping pattern's gonna recover from that mental night in for a while.

Now readers, don't get me wrong, I had a great time. I just can't see how there are people in this world who make their living this way. I realise a lot of the people who do so are in fact much better looking than me, but still, it's not exactly rewarding. If anything it's sort of degrading. You're not really a person whilst you're being photographed, more of a plaything for the people co-ordinating the shoot. I just don't really get why people would be attracted to that way of life (modelling that is, not photography - which I actually think is a really cool way that humanity has created to express itself). If anyone has any ideas why there are people out there determined to make their living basically pouting at a camera, or if I'm missing the point entirely, please let me know.

I don't mean to sound ignorant, I'm just trying to gain a better understanding.

Matt out.