Do Not Approach This Man…

I renewed my passport recently,  meaning that I get to see the current incarnation of my “boat race” fixed and glorified in leather-bound booklet form for the next decade. Despite having 9 months left to go on my previous one I decided to upgrade early as I was told by a reliable source (i.e my mum) that the prices of replacements were going to increase exponentially after March. The process was pretty straightforward and most of it was done online – apart from having to have my photo taken at Snappy Snaps (clever name, that), by some teenager holding an umbrella. It turned out the umbrella was not some fancy piece of camera equipment to enhance the lighting, but simply because the roof in the shop was leaking. The whole process only took 2 week and they even added unused 9 months on to the expiry date of the new one.

As you can see from my previous passport mugshots, I look a bit like the man from the Guess Who game; although I shapeshift every 10 years or so – I have the same, basic potato head throughout, albeit with different trimmings each time. In 1998 I sported a suitably embarrassing teenage haircut, which God saw fit to punish – making me completely bald by 2008. By this time I was also seemingly, made completely out of plastic. Now in my present-day version at the age of 37, I look like someone who’s on the sex offender’s register, or a contestant for Undateables.

Possible additions for the 2028 edition are manic tufts of professor-like hair at the sides and a Charles Manson-style swastika tattooed between my eyes…

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