Photographer

Snap! Click! Clunk! But enough about my dodgy back – welcome to the smile-please-back-a-bit world of the photographer!

Photographers often employ a series of verbal tricks to engage their subject. These vary from your standard, "Over here Paris!" to the more subtle, "who is the King of Poland?" All the greats – from David Bailey to my aunt Catherine – do it. What I can't abide is this country's sickening move towards exploitative photography. Close-ups of sweaty elbows, hairsome charmpits and naughty noses mean that so-called celebrities can't even be imperfect in their own time. Of course many of them court the Paparazzi and enjoy the attention, but I have to tell you – if I see you all outside my flat again tomorrow there'll be no more tea and biscuits.

I saw my friend Tony Aperture last week. Tony was a big name in the 80s, but I was shocked at his appearance – he looked pixelated, over-exposed and had an awful case of red eye. What's more, he was shaking – so I mounted him on a tripod and that settled him. Poor Tony. He got sacked once for repeatedly leaving his thumb over the lens. Still, he never dwelt on the negatives. I asked him the secret of photography: "Patience, timing, kick-as* equipment and a good eye – I had a mate who was blind and, with all due to respect to him and his family, he was useless." Tony's done quite a bit of Pap work so I asked him who the best subjects were: "Madonna's alright, as is Floella Benjamin. Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards is a bit up himself, but I guess when you're that famous you... .hold on... just got a text... must dash, Colleen's been spotted at Prunes Nightclub." And with that he zoomed off, his focal length stretching out into the soft focus sky.