Back in 1991 while working for a computer reseller, I learned to use photoshop to edit images. I would take people out, put people in, place objects (computers mostly) into different scenes and occasionally, edit images of the president of the company to see what he would look like bald, fat and old. Needless to say, while I was a hit with the other employees, my boss took exception.
Anyway, I needed to submit a picture of me looking reasonably professional. I didn’t have any recent pictures of me in a suit other than weddings and in most of those, I was three sheets to the wind. So, I grabbed a picture of me from the Black & White Ball back in 1999.
Of course, I would have to edit out the floozy on my arm.
So I removed myself from her grip, shuffled over a few feet to where the background was more image friendly, and shazam! Here’s the pic I’m submitting to the publishing company I work for. Of course, this was five years ago. I’m five years older, fatter, balder. It is ironic that for all that work I did making my boss look bald, fat and old, I’m the one that actually got balder, fatter and older and he has simply become a mutli-billionaire who can afford hair implants, personal trainers and collagen injections.