Dailybooth GuideHere are some tips on living through the DailyBooth community!
#1 Get Stuck In
As soon as you join, get on with it! Take your first picture your first picture should always be a webcam snap, not an upload, unless you take your photos on a separate camera. Browse around a bit; see if you can find a few people who look interesting that you could follow. You dont have to follow them forever. Leave a few comments on recent photos. Basically, just say hello.
#2 Engaging The Community
Make your pictures more interesting than you merely staring at a webcam every day. Show the community things that you love, and ask their opinions. Get to know the people you follow and this will make people more likely to follow you back and talk to you. Its no good following three hundred people if you never comment.
#3 Leaving Comments
Leave comments when you feel you need to. If youve nothing to say on a photo other than lol, then it might not always
How To Be -Un-Popular On DBHere are some simple rules to become really popular and respected on DailyBooth.
#1 Signing Up
As soon as you get an account name and password, youre in! Hooray! Its probably best if you dont take a picture of a few days. Thatll probably build up the mystery wont it? Youll probably have three hundred followers by the end of the week, all desperate to see who you are!
#2 Who To Follow!
Obviously, you need to be following people. Firstly, find all the YouTubers that you love. They use DailyBooth too (so you know its a cool thing!) and theyd love it if you follow them. You have to follow them anyway dont you? Theyre famous after all! Once youre following all of them, you then need to go to the Suggested Users tab and follow all of them. They must be cool!
#3 Your First Picture
Make sure its a good one! In it, say how much you love everyone and how much you love DailyBooth. Link to ever
Coops Cakes and Booth BooksThe sun beat down on Boothville as I strutted across the cobbles of a back street in town. People scurried about, some nodding and smiling as I passed, others too busy with their own business to notice me. Looking up, I saw a camera watching the street. For some reason, it didnt make me feel concerned. It made me feel safe, protected, watched by a friend. I resisted the urge to blow it a kiss.
I stopped outside a bakery Coops Cakes written in curly green lettering on the shop front and pressed my nose against the window. There were rows upon rows of cakes, biscuits and other treats. Little gingerbread men all rested in a row like a police line-up. Little cakes with icing swirls of pink, yellow, red, orange, blue, white and any other colour you could think of were displayed in curious little patterns.
Behind the counter, a girl with thick brown hair collected under a tall white hat put the finishing touches to a six-tier wedding cake, dabbing little white roses all a
Welcome to BoothvilleSomewhere in an unnamed country, lies a small town that many people know nothing about. Surrounded by hills and mountains to the north, forest to the west, ocean to the east and swamps to the south, the little town remains undisturbed, completely self-sufficient and safe from the horrors of the rest of the world.
A grand, nine-storey castle looms large from a hill to the north, overlooking the rest of the town, casting a shadow over the vineyards of the foothills. The shamans hut rests at the end of the largest field, a dilapidated little tent that the vineyard owners wish would move.
Two large housing estates one to the east and one to the west are home to the few thousand residents of the town and as they move towards the centre to join, they are interrupted by the commercial side of the town.
A twisty little maze of paths and roads filled with everything the residents need: a café which serves only the finest in hot drinks and snacks, a restaurant that would
Dailybooth FTWFacebook was king for a while
Its smooth layout would make us smile
Then it got too clogged with apps
Everyone said, This is crap
LJ, Wordpress, blogs on top
Emos took them, would not stop
MySpace thought it held the crown
Twitter came and knocked it down
Enter Tumblr to the race
With its simple interface
Now theyre in the past, not all websites last
And weve got something new
A site thats just adored by every camera whore
And we all know what to do
Now were showing what we read, or what we look like still in bed
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We leave comments by the score, people keep on posting more
This sites cream of the crop, its the best. Yes!
Old Bebo, we loved it so
Tom saw off his rival, now hes had to go
Second Life is abandoned now
Facepartys Rita was such a cow
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Theres just one site that will stay!
Now theyre in the past, some sites just can
BulldogI always thought that the reasoning of it was pretty pathetic but no one ever commented on that. It was a standard tradition that had gone on for years, and probably the most epic sight I shall ever see in my lifetime.
You see, our common room had just two sofas and they were positioned nicely in front of the TV, with easy access to the old-school games console. A throne for sixth form royalty. Im told that seven or eight years ago, arguments about which clique got the sofas escalated to such a level that some of the students decided to do things democratically.
British Bulldog was the only way.
At the beginning of each term once in September and once in January the whole sixth form would fight for the right to have the sofas. The teachers knew it happened, hell, they had been known to join in, but they all turned a blind eye to the aggressive behaviour.
And so it was because of this petty and slightly strange arrangement that I came to be standing on a muddy rugby
Well Dressed BoyTheres nothing about him to mark him as special
That well dressed boy in old London town
A dapper young chap, just minding his own
In polished black shoes, makes a clacking sound
He coats his legs in skin-tight jeans
They might as well be painted on
A vision in white and black and grey
Like a Photoshop painting in monochrome
Expertly tousled, his hair defines physics
The wind never dares move a single strand
He wears large black glasses, you cant see his eyes
And he carries a large, neat briefcase in hand
Yet despite his good looks and aloof demeanour
Hes not that special, not one of a kind
Just another one of those damned metrosexuals
They love buying shoes, but are as straight as a line
He could be a banker; he could be a rent boy
Perhaps hes a wanker; perhaps hes a god
Fine chiselled features, a sense of importance
Theres nothing about him proclaiming him odd
But this lad holds a secret, one he cant share
It burns him and churns him and make