Why Yes! I Am This Much of a Tard

I have been trying to get this one French-Existentialist pose down FOREVER, and you would THINK it would be really easy because it's just a silhouette and a cigarette, and I've got the lighting and I've got the tripod and it should ALL JUST WORK OUT, RIGHT?!

No. The damn auto-focus is a BIG FAT BITCH, and if I ever have to hear "whiiiir-eeer, whiiir-eeer" one more time I swear to God I will SHOOT THAT THING.

After about five minutes of me puff puff puffing away at a cigarette because I never know if or when the damn thing's going to go off, I realize that it - the camera - it likes my hand! My hand, ok, I guess my facial features aren't just good enough to latch onto, I can go with the hand, let's do the hand! But pretty soon the cigarette's gone and I haven't got any good shots and I'm just messing around with the thing, feeling kind of like a reject because it's all, "no... no... (whiiir-eeer, whiiir-eeer)... not that one... nope... (whiiir-eeer, whiiir-eeer)... wait for it... CLICK!" And I'm wondering what sort of face I'm making. Except I forget, see, that I've set it up so it's just a silhouette, and when I get the pictures I just get a bunch of this:



See the hand there, next to my face? Yeah, that's me holding my nifty little remote, the thing that's supposed to make my life easier. It doesn't. But then I realize, hey, this is kind of like a treasure-hunt, let's add some fill-light and see what we've got here. REVEAL!



DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU, CAMERA?! DO I?! DOOOO I?! THIS IS WHY I HAVEN'T NAMED YOU YET, CAMERA! YOU'RE NOT GONNA STAY.