What happened the last three months, here and elsewhere?
I have the impression of having been caught by a powerful vortex metro-boulot-dodo which also tangled stress, conflict resolution, personal search for self and / or housing, and tutti quanti. Like a Rambo of the storm, I was brought missing in action. Which leaves me a strange feeling to have deserted the country in recent times, of being aware of anything. Total nothingness.
I usually so eager for political news, nyet. I know nothing of what is happening now in high government circles. Stephen Harper could have said loud and clear his homosexuality and then marry a beautiful stallion conservative than I should have had little wind. Stephane Dion could have done a course in Leadership 101 with great distinction that I would not have known (and perhaps not vintage). And Pauline Marois, she gets hit a coin with his image of Empress modestly dignified and proud? Jean Charest may be recycled into a Buddhist monk and is preparing to climb a snowy mountain in the East, by donkey or silver-tailed lemur hairy pheasant (You never know, TODAY 'Today, with scientific progress and genetic manipulation "I mean the lemur, not by Jean Charest. ...). Although Who knows, Mario Dumont was possibly converted to Islam while Amir Khadir Françoise David and his classmate had meanwhile opted for humor, duo course. Jean Chretien has suffered Quadrule bypass, despite his apparent fitness (Oops, you say? Is the sad reality?). And I know that Jack Layton has become a crooner on a cruise ship for retirees in search of thrills and Gilles Duceppe a hit in piper proudly wearing the skirt Scotland. As for Andre Boisclair, he would simply withdrew from political life (Ah, how? That is also indeed true?).
Niet. Nada. Niente. Nothing. I know damn nothing.
No more respect for the cultural scene. I'm terribly sorry culturally speaking. My last visit back to the exhibition the first weekend of June. This is also where I met baby for the first time .. But that is another story ... that does not concern you (not yet, at least!). ;-)
I can not even extract from my memory any recollection of a movie I'd watch on the big screen went during the summer. O cruel human misery. I who languished until that longed to see the new episode of the exciting life of Harry Potter ... Poof! summer has vanished and no trace of Harry Potter on my retina. I obviously could not tell you about the current exhibitions or what is currently in vogue in the artistic sphere. The total black hole. My escapes cultural these days, shamefully limited to the tips of lashes zieuter few minutes Banker, a * ahem * * ahem * transcendent game show that my lovely mom looks hard, but that does not move me. At least not before having ingested a massive dose of bad alcohol.
Also, my primary source of information is the Internet (or is it geek is not), and this source is reduced state of scarcity of the most catastrophic in these days ( World Vision, come rescue me), I felt like I was back on a raft in the middle of the ocean, sailing without knowing the the hour or day, lost, forgotten, half-conscious.
The homes prefabricated housing the concurrently so exciting to have little Double occupancy have been the target of a huge meteorite, killing them all instantly, and I do not know anything. Ah, false alarm. Damage. Such an event would have provided some juicy headlines in newspapers and magazines in search of gossip bottom floor (the third basement it goes without saying).
Bah, anyway, in a fit of madness almost lethal, caused by the profound cultural deprivation, I am eager to visit the cultural section of the website of Radio-Canada last week at work, listening only to my m'édictait courage to extend a few unfortunate second three minutes from my dinner. Made me much good. That day it was announced with great fanfare the arrival of the band Bon Jovi in Montreal in November.
Ohhhhh. JE. DO. OBTAIN. DES. TICKETS.
My sister and I absolutely want to repeat the experience in July 2006. So this Saturday at noon do not look for me. I will probably now implore the Admission Network site not crash while on the phone with (an) officer (s) may be a bit jaded (e) of that network.
This charming dose of insanity should convince you that I am better. Or that I'm under the influence of a delectable liquid garnet, depending.
I have the impression of having been caught by a powerful vortex metro-boulot-dodo which also tangled stress, conflict resolution, personal search for self and / or housing, and tutti quanti. Like a Rambo of the storm, I was brought missing in action. Which leaves me a strange feeling to have deserted the country in recent times, of being aware of anything. Total nothingness.
I usually so eager for political news, nyet. I know nothing of what is happening now in high government circles. Stephen Harper could have said loud and clear his homosexuality and then marry a beautiful stallion conservative than I should have had little wind. Stephane Dion could have done a course in Leadership 101 with great distinction that I would not have known (and perhaps not vintage). And Pauline Marois, she gets hit a coin with his image of Empress modestly dignified and proud? Jean Charest may be recycled into a Buddhist monk and is preparing to climb a snowy mountain in the East, by donkey or silver-tailed lemur hairy pheasant (You never know, TODAY 'Today, with scientific progress and genetic manipulation "I mean the lemur, not by Jean Charest. ...). Although Who knows, Mario Dumont was possibly converted to Islam while Amir Khadir Françoise David and his classmate had meanwhile opted for humor, duo course. Jean Chretien has suffered Quadrule bypass, despite his apparent fitness (Oops, you say? Is the sad reality?). And I know that Jack Layton has become a crooner on a cruise ship for retirees in search of thrills and Gilles Duceppe a hit in piper proudly wearing the skirt Scotland. As for Andre Boisclair, he would simply withdrew from political life (Ah, how? That is also indeed true?).
Niet. Nada. Niente. Nothing. I know damn nothing.
No more respect for the cultural scene. I'm terribly sorry culturally speaking. My last visit back to the exhibition the first weekend of June. This is also where I met baby for the first time .. But that is another story ... that does not concern you (not yet, at least!). ;-)
I can not even extract from my memory any recollection of a movie I'd watch on the big screen went during the summer. O cruel human misery. I who languished until that longed to see the new episode of the exciting life of Harry Potter ... Poof! summer has vanished and no trace of Harry Potter on my retina. I obviously could not tell you about the current exhibitions or what is currently in vogue in the artistic sphere. The total black hole. My escapes cultural these days, shamefully limited to the tips of lashes zieuter few minutes Banker, a * ahem * * ahem * transcendent game show that my lovely mom looks hard, but that does not move me. At least not before having ingested a massive dose of bad alcohol.
Also, my primary source of information is the Internet (or is it geek is not), and this source is reduced state of scarcity of the most catastrophic in these days ( World Vision, come rescue me), I felt like I was back on a raft in the middle of the ocean, sailing without knowing the the hour or day, lost, forgotten, half-conscious.
The homes prefabricated housing the concurrently so exciting to have little Double occupancy have been the target of a huge meteorite, killing them all instantly, and I do not know anything. Ah, false alarm. Damage. Such an event would have provided some juicy headlines in newspapers and magazines in search of gossip bottom floor (the third basement it goes without saying).
Bah, anyway, in a fit of madness almost lethal, caused by the profound cultural deprivation, I am eager to visit the cultural section of the website of Radio-Canada last week at work, listening only to my m'édictait courage to extend a few unfortunate second three minutes from my dinner. Made me much good. That day it was announced with great fanfare the arrival of the band Bon Jovi in Montreal in November.
Ohhhhh. JE. DO. OBTAIN. DES. TICKETS.
My sister and I absolutely want to repeat the experience in July 2006. So this Saturday at noon do not look for me. I will probably now implore the Admission Network site not crash while on the phone with (an) officer (s) may be a bit jaded (e) of that network.
This charming dose of insanity should convince you that I am better. Or that I'm under the influence of a delectable liquid garnet, depending.
