Naked Photos of Your Mother

Going home at the weekend was a decent experience. Nothing particularly spectacular happened, but I played plenty of Devil May Cry 3. Dealing with the whole passing of Candy wasn't as bad as I expected, possibly because since I moved out I don't see her for long periods of time anyway. Um, didn't. In fact the only time I cried was in a dream.
Robbie and I sorted through probably nearly every photo that ever got taken in our family before the advent of the digital camera to find ones of Candy for Mum's planned memorial album. A lot of photos, but it didn't really seem that many. We found plenty of useable photgraphs, and I had expected it to hurt more, but it didn't really. She photographs well. Photographed. I found three things more disturbing than the continual reminders of the dog, in ascending order of shock value:
(1)Photos of Karen, my first girlfriend and official mental ex. No, really. She was adopted and pobably abused, and part of the...turbulence was me not knowing how to deal with girls, but most of it was due to the fact that it would have been very difficult to deal with her anyway.
(2)I do not photograph well. Whatever the pose, whatever the angle or facial expression, I appear on a range from gurning dimwit to smirking pervert. My jaw is ridiculously lopsided and I've apparently never had a haircut that suited me. The only photos of me I've ever liked I'm looking deliberately stupid for whatever reason, but at least I don't look stupid in the photo.
(3)Parental nudism!! Found more than one photo that we really rather wouldn't have. Talking to Dad after the fact, he apologised profusely even though I treated it as a sort of joke. Seems there are more photos and they'd collected most of them separately...