urs truely is really lazy when it comes to updating pictures. so for training purposes, i've finally decided to go back and play with my old pictures, PS them, and post them.
http://www.flickr.com/laztigger
wait is that right? let me go check... brb
*procrastination*
*more procrastination*
*he forgets to check*
*this is normal people*
*we'll just assume that it's right...*
Sunday, February 22, 2009
*blink*
*blink*
6 months to go... plenty of time to book my ticket and figure out what i'm going to brin...
*blink*
4 months to go... probably a good idea to figure out where we're going to liv...
*blink*
2 month to go...
*blink*
4 weeks to go?! what the heck, where did time go! eh... still plenty of tim...
*blink*
2 weeks to go! hey! stop that! i could have sworn i still had 3 months lef...
*blink*
6 months to go... plenty of time to book my ticket and figure out what i'm going to brin...
*blink*
4 months to go... probably a good idea to figure out where we're going to liv...
*blink*
2 month to go...
*blink*
4 weeks to go?! what the heck, where did time go! eh... still plenty of tim...
*blink*
2 weeks to go! hey! stop that! i could have sworn i still had 3 months lef...
*blink*
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
..::le laz tiggre::.. the journey begins!
welcome to 'le laz tiggre'
the beginning of an amazing journey of yours truly, laztigger (laztiggre in french), to a small suburb town in france.
known as paris.
what will appear here, will be a beautiful cacophony of literary achievement, worthy of a pulitzer prize, in one of the most prestigious categories of art...
called by the pulitzer commission as...
mental garbage. or in french "ordures" (literally... garbage) or better yet, "il dit des sottises" (what he says is rubbish) and "ce texte ne vaut rien" (this text is worthless). that last one makes me smile.
the biggest question coming from everyone (and when we mean everyone, we're talking about the thousan... ok ok... the hundreds of reader... no? the tens of... just my mom? ... sigh...) has been, 'has it sunk in yet?'
well... not yet, but considering that work still involves the greater portion of my day, it might not until the 28th.
and then, when it does, the harsh reality will rear it's ugly head (read: open up a can of whoop a**) as i make some very tough decisions that may alter the course of humanity itself (do i pack my rachael ray book to france? or place it in storage? and where in the world am i going to store these stuffed animals???). will i remain composed, a tapestry of calm and tranquility (it's almost scary that i can actually hear you laughing through the internet), or will i gibber insanely and cry and whine like a little adolescent (i sense sounds of affirmation and nodding from the crowd...)? stay tuned.
and with that, i bid you adieu.
-ce texte ne vaut rien.
the beginning of an amazing journey of yours truly, laztigger (laztiggre in french), to a small suburb town in france.
known as paris.
what will appear here, will be a beautiful cacophony of literary achievement, worthy of a pulitzer prize, in one of the most prestigious categories of art...
called by the pulitzer commission as...
mental garbage. or in french "ordures" (literally... garbage) or better yet, "il dit des sottises" (what he says is rubbish) and "ce texte ne vaut rien" (this text is worthless). that last one makes me smile.
the biggest question coming from everyone (and when we mean everyone, we're talking about the thousan... ok ok... the hundreds of reader... no? the tens of... just my mom? ... sigh...) has been, 'has it sunk in yet?'
well... not yet, but considering that work still involves the greater portion of my day, it might not until the 28th.
and then, when it does, the harsh reality will rear it's ugly head (read: open up a can of whoop a**) as i make some very tough decisions that may alter the course of humanity itself (do i pack my rachael ray book to france? or place it in storage? and where in the world am i going to store these stuffed animals???). will i remain composed, a tapestry of calm and tranquility (it's almost scary that i can actually hear you laughing through the internet), or will i gibber insanely and cry and whine like a little adolescent (i sense sounds of affirmation and nodding from the crowd...)? stay tuned.
and with that, i bid you adieu.
-ce texte ne vaut rien.
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