Beaming

I'd love to cackle. But being neither witch nor Kriss Akabusi, I don't have the gumption or the talent to do so.

I'm also unable to guffaw. I tried once, but simply created a methane parrot.

I don't like my laugh. I don't like my smile either. I think the thought of myself being happy makes me very upset. That's not strictly true. In fact the emotion of happiness is generally a positive one. I just disapprove of external expressions of it.

But only in me. I like other people smiling, even if they have metal teeth or are the Joker. I quite like people laughing, unless they have an annoying laugh. But that's only 70% of people. The other 30% are fine.

I've stopped smiling in photos.

And laughing in photos. I mean, that was pointless anyway. Unless you have one of those sound cameras. And they cost upwards of eight yen.

But the thought of avoiding smiling like a goon makes me cheerful. And it struggles to express itself through my lips. I try to repress it, but it's a real battle. It usually emerges as a grimace.

Of course, a grimace makes me look stupid. Which makes me sad. But by that point, it's too late. The picture is taken, my soul has been stolen, and I'm displayed to the world as Cardinal Oddmouth.

Cardinal Oddmouth sounds like a Dick Tracy villain. I might travel back to the 30s and invent him. And while I'm at it, I can kill Hitler. Or if not kill him, hide him in a mineshaft with some early Woody Allen until he changes his tune.

Speaking of segues, I heard this awesome song on Andrew Collins and Richard Herring's 6Music show this week. It is cooool:

dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip - Last Train Home