Being utterly convinced that I am deeply unphotogenic, I tend only to take photos of myself when I am drunk. (At the risk of stating the obvious, this is because I cease to care that I am unphotogenic, rather than because I suddenly become better looking).
Being reasonably health conscious, I tend only to eat crisps when I am drunk.
Below, taken in the parental home on Saturday night following Queens chucking out time, therefore represents a supremely rare occurence: a series of crisp-eating self portraits.
And what's more, crisp-eating in bed: this is a long-term bad habit of mine which is generally in remission, as it's fairly unacceptable behaviour if you're sharing the bed with anyone. But I wasn't, and I was shitfaced, so anything goes.
The eagle-eyed crisp aficionado will spot that these are none other than Seabrook's Original, which are the finest crisps in the land. Made in Bradford, they are rare Down South, but very popular Up North -- the subject of debate on h2g2 and also (in most flavours) demonstrably Halal.
joella
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