...can't read my poker face...

After my good mate hebs fibbed to me last night and blipped my ugly mug for everyone to see, I thought I might as well give every one the chance to abuse me.

It's not as easy as it looks this SP lark, when you dont have tripods and timers etc and have to hold the camera at arm's length and hope for the best.

Any way this is me...Fisherking, aka Kieran, aka Mr.G, aka Cap and Gown, aka Sir and to hebs only aka Goldie.

This is the face you get when you've taught in a small(ish) High School in a "socially deprived area" for 31 years....or when you've had 40 years of fags.....or 37 years of vodka and Jack Daniels....or helped bring up two kids......or been the Chairman of a Hockey club...or maybe just survived for 52 years.

If the Boss had seen this shot she would probably have titled it "Take that look off your Face"

The Daughter would have probably gone for " ....Razor Face...must be getting on..."

And the Son and Heir would definitely have opted for " You have a face for radio...."

Still it's my face and it maps the story of my life.

The scar just below the hairline where I gashed my head just 3 days before I got married and wouldn't have it stitched.... that took some creative combing to hide it.

The nose that's been broken twice.

The scars from a severe case of teenage acne.

The tache, that's been there since I was old enough to grow one.

The earring that magically appeared on my 40th birthday.

As you might say "A face that only a mother could love"