Lately I have had much cause to ponder the saying 'can't be arsed'.
Think about it. Dwell, if you will, on the many levels of meaning of this simple saying. Superficially it appears to mean that one (meaning me, in this instance) is unable to be fitted with nether regions, somewhat along the line of 'pin the tail on the donkey'. Yes, imagine me under hot pursuit, racing around a field, followed doggedly by a personage who is determined to re-enarsulate me; carrying, if you will, a complete set of buttocks in one hand and a small net, or possibly a tranquiliser dart, in the other. I am shrieking and waving my hands in the air (because this is my normal activity when chased, I am the campest runner-away you have ever seen, unless you have ever tried to capture Graham Norton using only a set of balloon animals and a large bag of Haribo) and shouting 'no, no! You cannot arse me!'
Approximately the sight you will see accelerating away from you...
However, in this instance, when I say I can't be arsed, I simply mean that I cannot be bothered. So, why do I not come right out and admit this? Why does telling the world that I'm not arsed feel so much more 'go-getting' than the lack-lustre 'pfffftt'? Hmmmm?
However. I have, and completely without bottom, managed to drag my carcass out to have its photograph taken. This involved much moaning and complaining, whining, whingeing and bribery, but eventually I got the photographer to stop and to point his camera at me. Now, I am not a natural photographic subject. I write books for a reason - it enables me to stay indoors, eat chocolate at will, Google all kinds of things under the heading of 'research' (and yes, honestly, one day I am going to write a book about all those things I've Googled - I'm just going to have to be careful with the title, that's all) and not appear in public. I try to avoid having my photograph taken, mostly because how I look when I'm on paper is not how I look from this side of my face , ie the inside. However. During this photographic session, certain images were captured which approximately matched the way that I think I look, although some of these were so soft focus that they did appear to be photographs of a piece of runny Brie, and now I can unveil these results!
Stare carefully, for tomorrow you may well be blind.
So, for services to photography above and beyond the call of duty, I recommend Phil at Fresh Photography for some kind of Sainthood. Look carefully upon this visage, for next week it may well be bothering you at Caerleon, for next week is RNA Conference 2011! I shall be roaming the Welsh countryside with complete disregard for my lack of backsidedness, grinning at passers-by!
You'll be able to recognise me, I'll be the only author there in black and white.
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