A band of flip-joys
not resembling stars:
tests Color:
A group freaks:
For now, I want a daily basis along with the jobs command.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
My Toddler Always Seems To Be Thirsty
streetlights.
Me, I do not cry.
It's been talking about for months, weeks that equips. There is controversy about the intelligence of such a project at home. Because that even if it is supported, it cost a leg. And you can always add stuff last minute. A case example. An extra warm jumper. Nothing nothing nothing, it ends up weighing. But
.
It's been days since you do not want more, do you dream, you already know your room-mates.
Yesterday I found a new emergency cap, because you forgot yours at school. And sunscreen.
Me, I do not cry.
When you went to school the first time, I did not cry. I think I was too exhausted to realize your abandon in a class with strangers. The radio has
called at five o'clock this morning. I put my things and went on tiptoe into your room where there were also your brother and sister. I've
caressed his cheek, you do not react. I gave your name, you've jumped around my arms, you were quick as ever to get dressed.
I took your shoes, you ate cereal, grapefruit, I woke your father a kiss.
It was at this time.
5:45. I still shudder.
We were not the last nor the first, given the already full compartment. I learned at the same time, we can carry while dressing her in a suitcase on wheels. But a big one. I thought, but what did I have forgotten? I always forget something, given the size of the cabinets in the hold.
A thought for the adult or child who is going to drag it behind him. A thought for you, if I forgot to put something essential.
Me, I do not cry.
There were moms, dads. You got on the bus, which was light itself. The lights, the heartbeat of time. Engine noise, ready.
Starboard, third. You did a hand signal, huddled in your cap in the pink jacket.
I do not not cry.
He did not leave the bus.
I heard mothers crying. Laughing. It sniffed. I saw children on the bus, wiping his eyes. We
, we were strong, we smiled.
Because me, I do not cry. And you do like me.
And the damn car that did not leave.
Finally, the director said, do not worry, we'll keep you posted, some are answered, we hope so ... The door slammed shut.
I made you cuckoo, You make me cuckoo. All children were
cuckoo.
The streetlights have sizzled.
The mass was white as shaken. He started down the street. On the other
side of the road, because this gesture revealed united parents as a single parent, raised his arm to salute you, parents who are losing their child.
a time when the streetlights come on, you left for the country of White Mountains.
Me, I never cried.
Me, I do not cry.
It's been talking about for months, weeks that equips. There is controversy about the intelligence of such a project at home. Because that even if it is supported, it cost a leg. And you can always add stuff last minute. A case example. An extra warm jumper. Nothing nothing nothing, it ends up weighing. But
.
It's been days since you do not want more, do you dream, you already know your room-mates.
Yesterday I found a new emergency cap, because you forgot yours at school. And sunscreen.
Me, I do not cry.
When you went to school the first time, I did not cry. I think I was too exhausted to realize your abandon in a class with strangers. The radio has
called at five o'clock this morning. I put my things and went on tiptoe into your room where there were also your brother and sister. I've
caressed his cheek, you do not react. I gave your name, you've jumped around my arms, you were quick as ever to get dressed.
I took your shoes, you ate cereal, grapefruit, I woke your father a kiss.
It was at this time.
5:45. I still shudder.
We were not the last nor the first, given the already full compartment. I learned at the same time, we can carry while dressing her in a suitcase on wheels. But a big one. I thought, but what did I have forgotten? I always forget something, given the size of the cabinets in the hold.
A thought for the adult or child who is going to drag it behind him. A thought for you, if I forgot to put something essential.
Me, I do not cry.
There were moms, dads. You got on the bus, which was light itself. The lights, the heartbeat of time. Engine noise, ready.
Starboard, third. You did a hand signal, huddled in your cap in the pink jacket.
I do not not cry.
He did not leave the bus.
I heard mothers crying. Laughing. It sniffed. I saw children on the bus, wiping his eyes. We
, we were strong, we smiled.
Because me, I do not cry. And you do like me.
And the damn car that did not leave.
Finally, the director said, do not worry, we'll keep you posted, some are answered, we hope so ... The door slammed shut.
I made you cuckoo, You make me cuckoo. All children were
cuckoo.
The streetlights have sizzled.
The mass was white as shaken. He started down the street. On the other
side of the road, because this gesture revealed united parents as a single parent, raised his arm to salute you, parents who are losing their child.
a time when the streetlights come on, you left for the country of White Mountains.
Me, I never cried.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Vote Of Thanks Wedding Speech
Sketch Sketch
Right now I want my course to sketch almost every day. The evidence: an assortment of sketches executed last year! She is not beautiful year 2011 with its resolutions.
Well, there's not much to say, sketches made directly in ink and brush, wash, etc. ...
dictated by the subconscious, I'm just copying what I said. It's almost possession when you think.
When I see the drawings below, I wonder if my subconscious not trying to tell me that I might have a penchant for the fairer sex, it just catches my eye.
Well actually, I still made sketches, more recently, those here on Sunday:
And those of yesterday, to test my new colored pencils and my Colorex roughly 250 ml bottles that I had at Christmas, I was amused like me funny.
This could be called Marilyn may have had something to say before being poisoned, but did not, the subject is too serious.
FRANÇAIS In here we drawingboard
Otherwise, the drawingboard.org menstionné above link, there is what is called drawings jam, a kind of ox, but instead it is music with several people, they're isolated like monks designers who designs each in turn. But on the same theme!
The goal is to capture a pose based on 3 photos of your choice but imposed, then each free to do what he wants as long as the installation is there.
This month is the wonderful Rosario Dawson , and here are two things that I laid.
I wanted to do something more on the second cartoon is a failure, but still, I laughed a lot using my new inks and pencils.
Here Rosario Dawson The drawing is jam DrawingBoard
Right now I want my course to sketch almost every day. The evidence: an assortment of sketches executed last year! She is not beautiful year 2011 with its resolutions.
Well, there's not much to say, sketches made directly in ink and brush, wash, etc. ...
dictated by the subconscious, I'm just copying what I said. It's almost possession when you think.
When I see the drawings below, I wonder if my subconscious not trying to tell me that I might have a penchant for the fairer sex, it just catches my eye.
Well actually, I still made sketches, more recently, those here on Sunday:
And those of yesterday, to test my new colored pencils and my Colorex roughly 250 ml bottles that I had at Christmas, I was amused like me funny.
This could be called Marilyn may have had something to say before being poisoned, but did not, the subject is too serious.
FRANÇAIS In here we drawingboard
Otherwise, the drawingboard.org menstionné above link, there is what is called drawings jam, a kind of ox, but instead it is music with several people, they're isolated like monks designers who designs each in turn. But on the same theme!
The goal is to capture a pose based on 3 photos of your choice but imposed, then each free to do what he wants as long as the installation is there.
This month is the wonderful Rosario Dawson , and here are two things that I laid.
I wanted to do something more on the second cartoon is a failure, but still, I laughed a lot using my new inks and pencils.
Here Rosario Dawson The drawing is jam DrawingBoard
Monday, January 24, 2011
Flip Micro Hd Vs Ultra Hd
5. Where
Then one night I called my friends. I told them, now you can come? It was late, it was dark, but now it was time.
They arrived in less than thirty minutes, we expected, we were ready, we had someone at home, anyway.
was the third time this has happened to us this history. I do not think it would be the last, I do not want, but that's how the gifts should not be abused.
I pressed. It is always pressed at the end. We can no longer see his feet, eating only the portions of sparrow, several times a day, but still. It was the room, the bag was all planned. Expected. This expectation makes the fun too. The surprise of the moment, I like the idea of not controlling this moment where everything starts. It is this element of chance. We drove
. We waited at the entrance of the service. You know, the hospitals at night, you have to ring. Someone picks you up. And then you take the elevator. I do not know if the place where you thought you hung a bit with this idea a lift. As in zero gravity aircraft.
me, it was nine months that I no longer knew what I meant weightlessness. Or rather, I felt very strong gravity.
I know nothing of days before. I forgot, you realize? A hurry, I tell you. Waiting. It's terrible waiting.
I felt you move. I saw a heel, a buttock. I made you bounce from one wall to another. I loved you already. Even if I did not know anything about you.
Here, dear reader, you say, blah blah blah, about rehashed a thousand times ... You must know, my friend, that each is different. It's terrible, it's wonderful, it's painful, that's all you want, I do not care, it is unique and it is. Nothing
is comparable.
Yesterday, you had chocolate licked up to her elbows in the bowl. And when you unwrapped one of your gifts, you said, oh, it's ugly.
So we did as usual, yes, we watched all that was said, yes, you did well to come, make yourself, and you want an epidural, I said yes this time because you see I'm comfortable as a girl, and then I had already experienced both with and without, in that order, I blessed the gods for having been the first time because otherwise I would have the general (you know how the wife of the commander, one that stuns even the most steadfast), I found the issue enjoyable the second time, dammit it feels good when it happened, but now this time I wanted to take my time.
And then I had a "girlfriend" as a midwife, her name is Mylene, I knew another way, then we got the wind and tu. This woman, I still thank you for being there.
And you wanted to save your princess dress, blue glitter, it makes you at least four princess dresses but when your friends come, thou ready. Masked thee thy great sister, you had the blue eyes and raspberry lips. You asked if you were even more beautiful, because yes, you're beautiful all the time, and you know about it.
I will not tell you everything, just that it was perfect . Really. I was wrong as he was, too, I took some weird positions to give birth to this third child, because Mylène knew I had confidence.
You've posed nude, on my breast, upon your arrival in the world and I have guarded against me, just wiped, I do not want you to take a bath, I did not want you brick, I did not want assault you.
I wanted you to be against my skin hot, I wanted to feel.
(I hope one day you will feel the sensation of being a little slippery as it landed on you, this thing full of life and so little at a time, this fabulous now, which you can not think to the end, as is the great abyss of fear, love, this life is in front).
I knew what I wanted. Because that was the third time and I do not let myself do any more. Mylène
left us, you, your father and me.
Long hours.
You have found your food alone. I let you act. You have been against me all night, on one side then the other. You're hooked with your mouth delicious, even if there was still nothing, you do not cry you were right, we were fine.
Yesterday you had five years.
For months, you stood against me in the sling. Now, you are against me, sometimes I still feel my back when we go down the stairs, or you lie about me on the couch. You are fusional, do you mold me so naturally. I see you grow up, I am proud and I fear at a time.
That's why I write these words, this is thanks to you, this blog.
To remember.
To share.
It serves no purpose, just to say what that is.
And then one day, if you read me ...
I love you. Thank you for.
Then one night I called my friends. I told them, now you can come? It was late, it was dark, but now it was time.
They arrived in less than thirty minutes, we expected, we were ready, we had someone at home, anyway.
was the third time this has happened to us this history. I do not think it would be the last, I do not want, but that's how the gifts should not be abused.
Yesterday you wanted a chocolate cake with raspberries and vanilla. You say vanilla cream. Your sister at your age, say nice chili. I think the whipped cream here to be learned even a little.
. We waited at the entrance of the service. You know, the hospitals at night, you have to ring. Someone picks you up. And then you take the elevator. I do not know if the place where you thought you hung a bit with this idea a lift. As in zero gravity aircraft.
me, it was nine months that I no longer knew what I meant weightlessness. Or rather, I felt very strong gravity.
I know nothing of days before. I forgot, you realize? A hurry, I tell you. Waiting. It's terrible waiting.
I felt you move. I saw a heel, a buttock. I made you bounce from one wall to another. I loved you already. Even if I did not know anything about you.
Here, dear reader, you say, blah blah blah, about rehashed a thousand times ... You must know, my friend, that each is different. It's terrible, it's wonderful, it's painful, that's all you want, I do not care, it is unique and it is. Nothing
is comparable.
Yesterday, you had chocolate licked up to her elbows in the bowl. And when you unwrapped one of your gifts, you said, oh, it's ugly.
And then I had a "girlfriend" as a midwife, her name is Mylene, I knew another way, then we got the wind and tu. This woman, I still thank you for being there.
And you wanted to save your princess dress, blue glitter, it makes you at least four princess dresses but when your friends come, thou ready. Masked thee thy great sister, you had the blue eyes and raspberry lips. You asked if you were even more beautiful, because yes, you're beautiful all the time, and you know about it.
You've posed nude, on my breast, upon your arrival in the world and I have guarded against me, just wiped, I do not want you to take a bath, I did not want you brick, I did not want assault you.
I wanted you to be against my skin hot, I wanted to feel.
(I hope one day you will feel the sensation of being a little slippery as it landed on you, this thing full of life and so little at a time, this fabulous now, which you can not think to the end, as is the great abyss of fear, love, this life is in front).
I knew what I wanted. Because that was the third time and I do not let myself do any more. Mylène
left us, you, your father and me.
Long hours.
You have found your food alone. I let you act. You have been against me all night, on one side then the other. You're hooked with your mouth delicious, even if there was still nothing, you do not cry you were right, we were fine.
For months, you stood against me in the sling. Now, you are against me, sometimes I still feel my back when we go down the stairs, or you lie about me on the couch. You are fusional, do you mold me so naturally. I see you grow up, I am proud and I fear at a time.
That's why I write these words, this is thanks to you, this blog.
To remember.
To share.
It serves no purpose, just to say what that is.
And then one day, if you read me ...
I love you. Thank you for.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Recherche Shampooing Thermasilk
music softens ...
Sometimes the chance to do some great moments.
Right now we have beautiful mom and handsome dad at home, to celebrate something I'll talk to you later maybe, I do ramble on so not right away.
It's hard for me to be away from my computer, the words I want to write, but as a discipline, sometimes I close my apple and I do not think about long hours . So I forced myself to begin with, not to think about anything in pixels when I'm with family, or as little as possible.
I also fed their presence, I enjoy these moments in time will be reduced, which will one day be no more. I do not want to regret not being there when it was possible.
Currently, everyone is still asleep. This is why.
Because last night I had a great time. We've had a great time. I even paid the luxury of laughter. A true. I cried.
In general, we do a little carousing. Appetizer, hearty meals ... wine. Last night was very reasonable (as always). After dinner the children go to bed, just very normal amount. The grandmother tells them a story, the grandfather's quiet as it should tickle them of strength, we sigh in concert with a small smile, because it's always the same. The children love their grandparents, they make them well.
And then we "go to room" to discuss a bit.
In general, we talk about political situation, society, finally, they speak, they protest, they argue, because I am incapable, because I think like them, and because I find it hard to talk all the the same time and because my ignorance prevents me from saying more. This remake the world, this world still turns though.
Yesterday evening, I ventured to bend my rule.
should know that I am very afraid of the critical eye of his stepfather. He always goes where it hurts, he noticed something always wrong. It does not compliment. When I watch one of my pictures, I am, or I close my ears, or I'm prepared for what I know I will hear.
Last night I did not show a picture I did read a text. Maso, I am.
You know that I'm involved in writing (no, you do not know?) A "novel to many". It may seem strange to you, it's true, many authors writing on a theme, it's risky. I must tell you that this is an exercise that I like, which amuses me, and although I can not be totally "me" because I am not pulling the strings, and that I do not know "the end" I love this work which is not one.
I consider this an exercise that I sided. And by dint of writing, Maybe someday I'll write really.
Finally, it is not what I wanted to tell you.
No.
last night so I actually read my latest production project, his stepfather erotic allusions are found, oh well, I said, no, it's not true, is a rifle as a craft, a craft, this n is nothing else. Finally, I laughed, and then criticized if it was not serious, I assume. Finally, he spoke of erotic and so I pushed the vice to make him read "the dress" at the bottom, you know, this text drew me a majority of male comments and new readers.
If he knew, if you knew, huh. Si .. So we talked
literature. As I was happy. For once we were talking about something which I could make my contribution.
We talked about John Irving who was involved in a literary program that I do not watch (time), etc ... Le Clezio
I do not know how the subject was deviated on French music. A
phrases beautiful mother, no doubt, "it's like Jacques Douai, you know the song ..." and she sang, and Dad found the handsome and beautiful as mom said "oh yes, I'd listen to this song."
You see, the computer was at my side, but accessible to sleep, I told myself why not and I found the song.
And then another.
And another.
Because every time: "Oh yes, and then that one too you think you could find it?"
My computer is a true little genius, he found Donna i Jacques Bernard Haille, Léo Ferré yes of course and then the first disc with the song Brel "feet in the creek" or " On the square " album title too.
They were moved, believe me. Over thirty years they had not heard that. Over thirty years and beautiful mother who still knows by heart the words of every song. Respect.
Beautiful mom said "oh, this would be nice, eh Lu to have a computer "...
And then, the giggles too.
Often in family meals, it is starting, we talk about everything and nothing, and then there is something it skids, a word that fights broke with another, and with any luck, everyone laughs.
You see, we sought the sister of Maxime Le Forestier. You knew he had a sister? bin if. Catherine. I found. She sang a beautiful song, listening, beautiful mom told me, listen.
Yes, I listened.
But as I found the song on Yout **, these assholes there, they felt compelled to put images. There is no clips sometimes not together, just the music and then fill in the box for video, they put you pictures.
You gotta know that modesty is beautiful mom. Very modest. Sometimes she'll spell words that are not, but it is almost unknown to her voluntarily.
Here, there was the beautiful song of Catherine and photos paraded before our eyes. (Beautiful Mom and I are on the couch, the guys in front, they see nothing, they listen to, them).
`I started to smile when the first pictures. Do not worry I'll put the link , you see them too if you want. Photos very few conventional way, not very original, but I started to laugh when I saw that made me think of the rugby calendar. You see, there were modest beside beautiful mother who saw those photos of hunks, muscular, shiny ... so I suggested we drop the image to ale that music because really, no, it does was not with.
She said no.
You think that, I was already in tears. I showed the men, couples, half-naked photos, so they understand what mom looked beautiful. What I wanted to see beautiful mom.
There was a song very prude but if you put the pictures mentioned above, beautiful mother who did not want me to remove the image, and I could not more.
I do not even remember the words of the song is ruined, Catherine Le Forestier will remain in my memory for that laugh that.
is by the great Jacques, we ended the evening.
was beautiful, you know. We did more songs like that, they said.
is true. It's poetry to music is a desire that comes from singing is ... well.
I wanted to tell them about the Slam, Grand Corps Malade, Emily Loizeau, Babet, Arhur of H, Higelin, of course, but why.
Yesterday evening they again become teenagers, they were lying all tender, all smiles.
was a good time. 
Sometimes the chance to do some great moments.
Right now we have beautiful mom and handsome dad at home, to celebrate something I'll talk to you later maybe, I do ramble on so not right away.
It's hard for me to be away from my computer, the words I want to write, but as a discipline, sometimes I close my apple and I do not think about long hours . So I forced myself to begin with, not to think about anything in pixels when I'm with family, or as little as possible.
I also fed their presence, I enjoy these moments in time will be reduced, which will one day be no more. I do not want to regret not being there when it was possible.
Currently, everyone is still asleep. This is why.
Because last night I had a great time. We've had a great time. I even paid the luxury of laughter. A true. I cried.
In general, we do a little carousing. Appetizer, hearty meals ... wine. Last night was very reasonable (as always). After dinner the children go to bed, just very normal amount. The grandmother tells them a story, the grandfather's quiet as it should tickle them of strength, we sigh in concert with a small smile, because it's always the same. The children love their grandparents, they make them well.
And then we "go to room" to discuss a bit.
In general, we talk about political situation, society, finally, they speak, they protest, they argue, because I am incapable, because I think like them, and because I find it hard to talk all the the same time and because my ignorance prevents me from saying more. This remake the world, this world still turns though.
Yesterday evening, I ventured to bend my rule.
should know that I am very afraid of the critical eye of his stepfather. He always goes where it hurts, he noticed something always wrong. It does not compliment. When I watch one of my pictures, I am, or I close my ears, or I'm prepared for what I know I will hear.
Last night I did not show a picture I did read a text. Maso, I am.
You know that I'm involved in writing (no, you do not know?) A "novel to many". It may seem strange to you, it's true, many authors writing on a theme, it's risky. I must tell you that this is an exercise that I like, which amuses me, and although I can not be totally "me" because I am not pulling the strings, and that I do not know "the end" I love this work which is not one.
I consider this an exercise that I sided. And by dint of writing, Maybe someday I'll write really.
Finally, it is not what I wanted to tell you.
No.
last night so I actually read my latest production project, his stepfather erotic allusions are found, oh well, I said, no, it's not true, is a rifle as a craft, a craft, this n is nothing else. Finally, I laughed, and then criticized if it was not serious, I assume. Finally, he spoke of erotic and so I pushed the vice to make him read "the dress" at the bottom, you know, this text drew me a majority of male comments and new readers.
If he knew, if you knew, huh. Si .. So we talked
literature. As I was happy. For once we were talking about something which I could make my contribution.
We talked about John Irving who was involved in a literary program that I do not watch (time), etc ... Le Clezio
I do not know how the subject was deviated on French music. A
phrases beautiful mother, no doubt, "it's like Jacques Douai, you know the song ..." and she sang, and Dad found the handsome and beautiful as mom said "oh yes, I'd listen to this song."
You see, the computer was at my side, but accessible to sleep, I told myself why not and I found the song.
And then another.
And another.
Because every time: "Oh yes, and then that one too you think you could find it?"
My computer is a true little genius, he found Donna i Jacques Bernard Haille, Léo Ferré yes of course and then the first disc with the song Brel "feet in the creek" or " On the square " album title too.
They were moved, believe me. Over thirty years they had not heard that. Over thirty years and beautiful mother who still knows by heart the words of every song. Respect.
Beautiful mom said "oh, this would be nice, eh Lu to have a computer "...
And then, the giggles too.
Often in family meals, it is starting, we talk about everything and nothing, and then there is something it skids, a word that fights broke with another, and with any luck, everyone laughs.
You see, we sought the sister of Maxime Le Forestier. You knew he had a sister? bin if. Catherine. I found. She sang a beautiful song, listening, beautiful mom told me, listen.
Yes, I listened.
But as I found the song on Yout **, these assholes there, they felt compelled to put images. There is no clips sometimes not together, just the music and then fill in the box for video, they put you pictures.
You gotta know that modesty is beautiful mom. Very modest. Sometimes she'll spell words that are not, but it is almost unknown to her voluntarily.
Here, there was the beautiful song of Catherine and photos paraded before our eyes. (Beautiful Mom and I are on the couch, the guys in front, they see nothing, they listen to, them).
`I started to smile when the first pictures. Do not worry I'll put the link , you see them too if you want. Photos very few conventional way, not very original, but I started to laugh when I saw that made me think of the rugby calendar. You see, there were modest beside beautiful mother who saw those photos of hunks, muscular, shiny ... so I suggested we drop the image to ale that music because really, no, it does was not with.
She said no.
You think that, I was already in tears. I showed the men, couples, half-naked photos, so they understand what mom looked beautiful. What I wanted to see beautiful mom.
There was a song very prude but if you put the pictures mentioned above, beautiful mother who did not want me to remove the image, and I could not more.
I do not even remember the words of the song is ruined, Catherine Le Forestier will remain in my memory for that laugh that.
is by the great Jacques, we ended the evening.
was beautiful, you know. We did more songs like that, they said.
is true. It's poetry to music is a desire that comes from singing is ... well.
I wanted to tell them about the Slam, Grand Corps Malade, Emily Loizeau, Babet, Arhur of H, Higelin, of course, but why.
Yesterday evening they again become teenagers, they were lying all tender, all smiles.
was a good time.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Touching My Sisters Breast
Good resolutions
Happy New Year to all my faithful readers!
I decided this year not to scan my sketches in very good resolutions, hence the topic title. So here
full of sketches, I hope to do much this year, I have not there was hard to fault top command jobs, but the hair in his hand, although a dispersion in fields as diverse as an aperitif or mechanics is not ruled out. So
sketches to limit the unconscious:
But also lots of stars very similar.
(Dare to say otherwise, dare to see!)
In fact I did as a game, think of a name actor or actress that I love (or not elsewhere), and then try - I mean try and not succeed - to represent him / her in a few seconds, less than a minute anyway. The goal is not to draw all the time or the same nose same eyes of the characters, not having tics graphics and try different styles. Is the overall result is below everything, but some characters are interesting in themselves and could be used to something else.
From person chosen at random from the unconscious somehow. If I trouble you tell me.
In the same spirit, I began to imdb site and I made sketches of people I like, such as quickly as possible to avoid asking questions So it's not always like but the important thing is that CHARACTERISTICS remain in memory, it teaches a lot of things in a short time what kind of sketch. I did not put the names of people because they are difficult to recognize, except that the 4th is Julia Roberts (you guessed it I'm sure).
My partner has taken the game of drawing from life:
Here, the goal is to do a lot of sketch like this, or better yet, sketch, but often completely different. I guarantee not to post every day, by cons do every day, yes, and sometimes twice a day.
Here in English, The drawingbard is back! 
Happy New Year to all my faithful readers!
I decided this year not to scan my sketches in very good resolutions, hence the topic title. So here
full of sketches, I hope to do much this year, I have not there was hard to fault top command jobs, but the hair in his hand, although a dispersion in fields as diverse as an aperitif or mechanics is not ruled out. So
sketches to limit the unconscious:
But also lots of stars very similar.
(Dare to say otherwise, dare to see!)
In fact I did as a game, think of a name actor or actress that I love (or not elsewhere), and then try - I mean try and not succeed - to represent him / her in a few seconds, less than a minute anyway. The goal is not to draw all the time or the same nose same eyes of the characters, not having tics graphics and try different styles. Is the overall result is below everything, but some characters are interesting in themselves and could be used to something else.
From person chosen at random from the unconscious somehow. If I trouble you tell me.
In the same spirit, I began to imdb site and I made sketches of people I like, such as quickly as possible to avoid asking questions So it's not always like but the important thing is that CHARACTERISTICS remain in memory, it teaches a lot of things in a short time what kind of sketch. I did not put the names of people because they are difficult to recognize, except that the 4th is Julia Roberts (you guessed it I'm sure).
My partner has taken the game of drawing from life:
Here, the goal is to do a lot of sketch like this, or better yet, sketch, but often completely different. I guarantee not to post every day, by cons do every day, yes, and sometimes twice a day.
Here in English, The drawingbard is back!
Derek Jeter Cleats 2010
Illustrations for Celio
Here is a job control did last year for Comicstrip.fr agency.
very classic illustrations for a document created to the attention of prospective franchisees, texts and drawings explaining the process leading to the opening of a new clothing store Celio.
This is a job done last year for Celio clothes. It depicts The Process to open a new shop Celio. 
Here is a job control did last year for Comicstrip.fr agency.
very classic illustrations for a document created to the attention of prospective franchisees, texts and drawings explaining the process leading to the opening of a new clothing store Celio.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
How To Retie Moccasins From Target
Rhaaah! Finally!
I love the rain when I can stay in bed and read. Otherwise, I hate rain.
I love snow if there enough to make snowmen. Otherwise, it indifference to me.
Like the dry cold, only if I'm pretty covered. Otherwise, I shiver.
I love the weather. The sky blue. The eyes that pucker. That heats the skin. Which relaxes the back.
I hate being sick. But maybe not at all. Ago as an asset of your whole being to decide that nothing works, same words become sore, you worry bite fingers impotence. You know he just wait. But in general, this is where comes into your head all you gotta do, all that is behind the tricks to make urgent for yesterday, and all projects that can advance no further because here, no really, you're better, ten thousand times better, under the duvet.
This morning I woke up BEFORE children (those who know him know that).
I took a shower before my coffee.
I scored two tights. Two T-shirt. One (one?) Pull. Jeans (two, it not fit).
And then, when this was the moment I pulled out my little motorcycle from behind his hiding place.
And there.
No, you who do not climb with saddle beast injection, you do not know.
do not imagine that I drive a racing car. No need. For now. I have a bike without permission, 125. But as they say the other "it has everything a large".
At first I did not have gloves, no jacket. And then I was scared. Never mounted a two-wheeled motorized. Never. Always wanted. But.
So before my four hours, the seller just showed me the clutch, brakes, gears. Finally, when it stood mechanically speaking, because I did not even know it. I was able to brake with the clutch, you know, like cycling, and then two more fingers.
Then, timidly, after my first hour, I turned on the ignition of my Yam. ;
I stalled.
Then I went on the dirt road near the house. To join so there is a hundred meters away. Ben.
I was, I believe, I'm sure, uptight. I position the evil hands on the wrists, my elbows hurt, hurt my center of gravity. And then I went up up to fifty.
you off there, you know, when you do not master the trick. You feel the wind you will cast off the chatter. If you come across a friend, and unfortunately it makes you cuckoo, you, crâneuse you want to meet him, you let the left hand, you raise your arm, your arm but, unfortunately, we must keep it, otherwise it bar back, the wind never forget that you create with your speed (hey, it reminds me of the stories of true wind and wind on a boat).
To summarize, at the beginning, you get quiet. Looking for hidden routes, the secret corners.
More you t'équipes (gloves, boots) you do more pro, you most afraid of being ridiculous. Yes.
But you're Mom, you secure as possible, you know that the bike kills. You have fear of ridicule that the time to tell you, yes, but.
And the miles.
Days. Seasons.
One day you spend 3000 km rales you, because you have not seen the three zero. Nan. This morning I saw 3009.
is not 3000. It seems to know how to drive properly before, it takes 20 000. If you take away the rainy days, Wednesdays, Sundays, holidays and days of frost and snow he ... do you still not that much of days.
Today, 89 km.
Rhaaah, DDS, it feels good!
Well, I'll tell you.
is a special day where the sun shines enough to make the leather of your saddle is hot. The air is cold, but your bike is already warm.
You turn the key. You press contact. And you hear the hum. She purrs my bike, it's true. It's not something a moron, these mufflers tampered with, just to annoy the neighbors. This is not the rolling of the Harley eh. No. These, you hear them far enough, to have just enough time to run and watch them go.
You press the tip of the left foot first, and you get out of the driveway. Immediately after you pass your foot under the lever of speeds, because the next are up. And tactac, tock, tock, tock. Vroom. 7000 rpm, 90 per hour.
Yes!
You choose the road curves. The small road. I have already written somewhere, that I'll ramble, but I really love.
When you drive by car, we look at the landscape.
motorbikes, you look at the landscape and you feel. You see the coast before feel it, and then your body up the hill with the bike, you make one with the craft, to understand the landscape, ripples, high, low. Odors. You grimace when power is not enough to keep the speed, the mountains make you slow down, laugh when you arrive and take you down, there's this wind, this force, against which you struggle, with which you fight.
There the blue sky which is that sometimes the sun warms your legs frozen, there are green fields, the sunlight in the trees, some cows in a meadow.
There is regular noise from the engine, the vibration that makes you whole when you quit your horse, it will continue to ricochet through your veins, through the swarm that has you from head to toe.
You push the door of your house where you go with a smile beaming.
You put the helmet, gloves, glove liners. At this writing, I still tremble. Cold and pleasure.
Sure, there are days when everything goes well.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Peace Sign On The Side Meaning
Pas de Deux.
is my America me.
One morning you wake up, with the sky in winter.
Neither blue nor white, nor gray, it's not over yet,
night.
One morning you wake up and wait.
Your body tells you yawn, you tubs, he just says,
extension yourself,
You extensions,
It tells you that this morning is not good. ;
One day, one morning, it will be good.
You'll open one eye and it is heaven that you'll see.
He will tell you, get up, but you'll already standing
He will tell you walk, you'll already dressed
One morning it will be like that,
Good.
You have mood midwater
Your character is desperate to reach land,
Sometimes
He wants it float, so basically, Y
walk.
Doubtless one day
One morning
Maybe one night, who knows?
Hope Black, Y
believe
And see what tomorrow will bring. You
mood that floats
For a little seasick
Because of the winter.
you think?
Friday, January 14, 2011
Indian Average Boob Size
"Saving Love"
I am 13 years old. It's hot every day. The blazing flames. Or jacaranda.
Every day I come home from college, balance my bag on the green marble, and over me in my cool air conditioned room. It makes an air conditioner noise, but what is good for collapse on the cool sheets of my bed. Incidentally, the unit we used to make the short ladder to climb onto the roof, my brother, her boyfriend and me.
I've never really talked about my room. Remember that the house is a big white cube, with a spacious patio in the center, where also several pairs of parakeets cavort.
To reach my room from the entrance, I walk through a corridor-shaped L. This corridor distributes the right hand first room of my sister and my parents, the bathroom and finally my brother's room.
A left hand, the toilet, then the angle of the L that goes around the patio. I am after the patio, on the end opposite the boys' room. We always said "boys," the friend of my brother is almost a brother since he is here every day.
My room is big and clear. There is even a small shower, I do not like, because of the brown tile. But I have a large door window, which opens onto a balcony red. It's funny when I think of this balcony, because it is the height of the garden, I do not understand the need. The shutters are "shielded", designed to withstand hurricanes, dark brown, heavy, they scrape red concrete, when I close each evening at the hour of my prayer to the stars.
When I get home from St. Charles, so I run, make me cold, even before they go snack (banana fritters of Amelia, for example).
On my desk, I do not know at all how it looks like I have not had to spend enough time on my desk, there is the cassette player of my father. A rectangular black plastic cover with a faux black leather. Heavy. Almost architecture USSR, as it was again. I'm so worn that gear.
I press "eject", I put my tape, I closed the hood, and I turned the wheel volume.
"What could save the Amu-o"?
Balavoine.
My idol at 13.
listened tirelessly "All the SOS cries," I think I still know the words by heart.
I do not believe, I know I know them by heart, for adventure when the car radio broadcasts any song from this album "Save the love," I sing with him, as the senior low m'égosillant if necessary, not even fear, if I am alone.
I cried on his songs. I was already in love, no I will not say who he has a life (public) also miss more than that.
One day in January 1986, 14, was summer vacation, I saw the sand of the Paris-Dakar on the news of RFO. I saw debris. I saw faces and heard the songs Balavoine. I do not like the Paris-Dakar. (Look, a dead Argentine yesterday, not a competitor of course) .
is the first time that a singer's death touched me.
This morning when I heard the nice column on France Inter, Didier Varrod I heard 25 years. It's been 25 years.
And yet it seems like yesterday.
Discover Daniel Balavoine ! 
I am 13 years old. It's hot every day. The blazing flames. Or jacaranda.
Every day I come home from college, balance my bag on the green marble, and over me in my cool air conditioned room. It makes an air conditioner noise, but what is good for collapse on the cool sheets of my bed. Incidentally, the unit we used to make the short ladder to climb onto the roof, my brother, her boyfriend and me.
I've never really talked about my room. Remember that the house is a big white cube, with a spacious patio in the center, where also several pairs of parakeets cavort.
To reach my room from the entrance, I walk through a corridor-shaped L. This corridor distributes the right hand first room of my sister and my parents, the bathroom and finally my brother's room.
A left hand, the toilet, then the angle of the L that goes around the patio. I am after the patio, on the end opposite the boys' room. We always said "boys," the friend of my brother is almost a brother since he is here every day.
My room is big and clear. There is even a small shower, I do not like, because of the brown tile. But I have a large door window, which opens onto a balcony red. It's funny when I think of this balcony, because it is the height of the garden, I do not understand the need. The shutters are "shielded", designed to withstand hurricanes, dark brown, heavy, they scrape red concrete, when I close each evening at the hour of my prayer to the stars.
When I get home from St. Charles, so I run, make me cold, even before they go snack (banana fritters of Amelia, for example).
On my desk, I do not know at all how it looks like I have not had to spend enough time on my desk, there is the cassette player of my father. A rectangular black plastic cover with a faux black leather. Heavy. Almost architecture USSR, as it was again. I'm so worn that gear.
I press "eject", I put my tape, I closed the hood, and I turned the wheel volume.
"What could save the Amu-o"?
Balavoine.
My idol at 13.
listened tirelessly "All the SOS cries," I think I still know the words by heart.
I do not believe, I know I know them by heart, for adventure when the car radio broadcasts any song from this album "Save the love," I sing with him, as the senior low m'égosillant if necessary, not even fear, if I am alone.
I cried on his songs. I was already in love, no I will not say who he has a life (public) also miss more than that.
One day in January 1986, 14, was summer vacation, I saw the sand of the Paris-Dakar on the news of RFO. I saw debris. I saw faces and heard the songs Balavoine. I do not like the Paris-Dakar. (Look, a dead Argentine yesterday, not a competitor of course) .
is the first time that a singer's death touched me.
This morning when I heard the nice column on France Inter, Didier Varrod I heard 25 years. It's been 25 years.
And yet it seems like yesterday.
Discover Daniel Balavoine !
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
How To Be A Cocktail Waitress At A Strip Club
The dress ... Landscape
You're in front of me, proud and straight, lost in the multitude, and I wonder what drives me to you.
You are so numerous, it must make a choice, why you?
There are those who are dressed in black with a slight trace of red to attract attention, recognition. There are those who are in white starched, stiff, as proud as you?
And sizes, large small, thick, thin, a large panel of your fellows.
You made me the eye. I have seen. But I was not free. Yet, you stood firm. You are returned to the charge, or rather, I have seen so many, so patient, that.
The first time you owned me, I remember. I was lying semi-recumbent, is often the case with you, and I held you in my fingers. You made me vibrate. This feeling of tilting, this revelation, eternal moments forever etched in me, upside down on my skin. I cried, too.
Sometimes, you got me so excited, it took time before I start you attend.
It takes time between our stories.
I could sulk. See you there, arrogant, inaccessible, like a treasure to be coveted, like a pearl that will adorn my memories of a purity brilliant, I was sick, jealous, jealous. I have disdain for you to know that your fine clothes do not make me succumb.
You have understood. It's in your
simplest device I prefer you. Gross. Rough. Pur.
when I caress you with delight, my hands, I hold you back down, my fingers I'm your lines, my eyes, I drink your words. I am continuing to go and come when you definitely resist me and you hold on, so much so that I doubt. I laugh now when I realize how you manipulate me. Like, if you trouble me, when you train in false pretenses, when you make me believe what you want. Like also when you make me dream. We can go anywhere, meet anyone you like, think everything is fine or be scared by the horrors that we do not even want to imagine. Even as I look in the corner, away from me feast for me. You have so much power. Charm. Charismatic.
You enter into me like a river. You give me everything I am everything, j'assaisonne my life that you bring. You are my salt, pepper, my, my pepper, my favorite perfume. You are everything when I hold you in my hands.
I abandoned me.
The end is a little death makes me sigh. I'll regret when I cover flaps. I miss you almost immediately.
You.
my book. 
You're in front of me, proud and straight, lost in the multitude, and I wonder what drives me to you.
You are so numerous, it must make a choice, why you?
There are those who are dressed in black with a slight trace of red to attract attention, recognition. There are those who are in white starched, stiff, as proud as you?
And sizes, large small, thick, thin, a large panel of your fellows.
You made me the eye. I have seen. But I was not free. Yet, you stood firm. You are returned to the charge, or rather, I have seen so many, so patient, that.
The first time you owned me, I remember. I was lying semi-recumbent, is often the case with you, and I held you in my fingers. You made me vibrate. This feeling of tilting, this revelation, eternal moments forever etched in me, upside down on my skin. I cried, too.
Sometimes, you got me so excited, it took time before I start you attend.
It takes time between our stories.
I could sulk. See you there, arrogant, inaccessible, like a treasure to be coveted, like a pearl that will adorn my memories of a purity brilliant, I was sick, jealous, jealous. I have disdain for you to know that your fine clothes do not make me succumb.
You have understood. It's in your
simplest device I prefer you. Gross. Rough. Pur.
when I caress you with delight, my hands, I hold you back down, my fingers I'm your lines, my eyes, I drink your words. I am continuing to go and come when you definitely resist me and you hold on, so much so that I doubt. I laugh now when I realize how you manipulate me. Like, if you trouble me, when you train in false pretenses, when you make me believe what you want. Like also when you make me dream. We can go anywhere, meet anyone you like, think everything is fine or be scared by the horrors that we do not even want to imagine. Even as I look in the corner, away from me feast for me. You have so much power. Charm. Charismatic.
You enter into me like a river. You give me everything I am everything, j'assaisonne my life that you bring. You are my salt, pepper, my, my pepper, my favorite perfume. You are everything when I hold you in my hands.
I abandoned me.
The end is a little death makes me sigh. I'll regret when I cover flaps. I miss you almost immediately.
You.
my book.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Old Maytag Dishwashers Replacement Panel
I would like a landscape.
Take my mug and sit on the edge of a window or in front of my desk before a window, a bay, a large glass that would allow me to be outside, inside. It
I have to be high. A slow curve. A hill like the Highlands, a landscape not aggressive. There would be ahead.
The horizon is mine. Or perhaps I should share with a remote, very distant white cube that would be another house.
I want my eyes caress those soft curves, with no barriers other than a tree, a large oak tree that lightning would never managed to find the middle of a field. A grove perhaps, those that turn red in autumn, those who contrast with the green and blue, with brown fields harvested.
If I sit at this table before this landscape, I see the seasons pass. A rainy day precedes the weather was great. A landscape after the rain has a higher intensity, brightness greater. Frayed clouds would fight against the wind that would drive them out. There the trees of the grove, I would hear rustling, movement of leaves, branches shiver. I might believe, merely to see them, they m'abritent, and that small drops still resting on the shiny leaves, will drop on the floor, on me. In my house, I have a little cold this moisture there, and I add me a sweater. A great sweater. Too big. A men's sweater and shapeless, which covered almost my hands. But the cup.
The winter course, there would be snow. I would not recognize anything, everything would be different. I would travel to another country, thanks to this insane landscape. My mind wanders, so that ideas germinate under my finger tap the screen. It would be almost magical. The snow that will print the words on my snow white page.
One day, birds chirping in the grass on the edge. They are colorful, noisy, I guess spring. Life would move my horizon, as if all the grass hills shuddered in unison. I seem to see blur.
I would like a landscape outside my window. It would be blue and I would open wide to feel the wind caress my hair, while a lemon juice let run its cool mist around the base of the glass, at the exact spot where lay my cup of tea, extending this circle, indelible force of the seasons.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Mumbai Online Marriage Registration Form
Days Virus ...
Sometimes it happens, as my daughter would soon be 5 years.
Sometimes one of mine is sick.
I can not complain, it "can" not so often. Nothing to do with the worries we have had two years ago. No. Small
virus through the winter and bodies. Colds, fevers, small, and this time the unpleasant attack the intestinal wall ...
Days viruses, where everyone washes their hands more often than usual, or I forbid kisses (but not mine, I can not), for once they can ask for forgiveness (when they argue, they reconcile themselves with the word "forgiveness" and a kiss) no kiss, and where they should drink a glass of clay (bé yes, what, what do you think what Smecta except clay with a very yuck artificial flavor, while green clay and basta)
Days virus was allowed to stay in his pajamas after noon and snuggle on the couch to make TV days.
We're not forced to finish his plate, must be said that rice naked, it's tired.
When I think in my EX enterprise, it was entitled to 5 days per year sick child, regardless of the number of child ...
There would not get a bonus day.
one where everything is going well, where I feel like it's happened, since the desire to dress, eat, "I'm hungry, I'm so hungry," because the dance moves to any music, and then the incessant chatter is even forgets to bring the thumb to his mouth and takes us well because we have hands full of pastel.
Day bonus which translates into "oh, she has too much luck" of others, the poor, should they go to school.
Days viruses have lasted two days and one night, weekend, depriving us of a little still output in the blue sky, but we will not complain, there will be other days of blue sky.
The bonus is to have mom just for you, too.
Mom will still not forget to tell you to go for a nap, my darling, you need to rest all these artistic activities, all the films screened, so much laughter and jokes. No but
.
Sometimes it happens, as my daughter would soon be 5 years.
Sometimes one of mine is sick.
I can not complain, it "can" not so often. Nothing to do with the worries we have had two years ago. No. Small
virus through the winter and bodies. Colds, fevers, small, and this time the unpleasant attack the intestinal wall ...
Days viruses, where everyone washes their hands more often than usual, or I forbid kisses (but not mine, I can not), for once they can ask for forgiveness (when they argue, they reconcile themselves with the word "forgiveness" and a kiss) no kiss, and where they should drink a glass of clay (bé yes, what, what do you think what Smecta except clay with a very yuck artificial flavor, while green clay and basta)
Days virus was allowed to stay in his pajamas after noon and snuggle on the couch to make TV days.
We're not forced to finish his plate, must be said that rice naked, it's tired.
When I think in my EX enterprise, it was entitled to 5 days per year sick child, regardless of the number of child ...
There would not get a bonus day.
one where everything is going well, where I feel like it's happened, since the desire to dress, eat, "I'm hungry, I'm so hungry," because the dance moves to any music, and then the incessant chatter is even forgets to bring the thumb to his mouth and takes us well because we have hands full of pastel.
Day bonus which translates into "oh, she has too much luck" of others, the poor, should they go to school.
Days viruses have lasted two days and one night, weekend, depriving us of a little still output in the blue sky, but we will not complain, there will be other days of blue sky.
The bonus is to have mom just for you, too.
Mom will still not forget to tell you to go for a nap, my darling, you need to rest all these artistic activities, all the films screened, so much laughter and jokes. No but
.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Cannot Find Server Fakku
Extracts.
One of the most beautiful film I have ever seen.
And this one too.
Two films that have impressed me.
Good Sunday ... 
One of the most beautiful film I have ever seen.
And this one too.
Two films that have impressed me.
Good Sunday ...
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Ferrous Fumarate And Pregnancy
Remembrance remembrance.
Today we celebrate the anniversary of a death. From a president, a statesman.
I saw him in real life.
Not very big, not very fast, very ill indeed, he came to inaugurate the Fac to which I belonged in 1994. It was a gray day. But the walls of the FAC were still very colorful, it was new, it was beautiful, it was red, yellow, orange and black. Me, I liked.
Actually, I always have a twinge of regret when I pass
UBO is the symbol of my desires, my failures, my shortcomings, my cravings again. Each time, I wonder if those who work there that day, in the library, or CBRC know their luck.
I did not realize it at the time. I am someone who understands that we must quickly explain long. I associate
Francois Mitterrand to the culture, intelligence, humanity, too. It was somebody. For me, there's no doubt about it, I still bring him great respect. Until the end he remained dignified. Of course the "business". Secrets. The dark side. And so much the better. It takes a lot of mistakes to learn. Why I think
to him, or why is it that at college I associate?
Because the two are linked.
Continue to learn, grow, stay curious, to express themselves, understand, and appreciate things at their fair value. I am convinced that knowledge comes understanding, and that this understanding is essential for a certain social harmony.
The Faculty is a space of freedom to learn. Nothing is or should be taboo, everything can be studied, explained. It is possible to communicate with the "knowledgeable". If they do not know, student status is a passport to go further, another city, another library.
is access to everyone regardless of social status from the tray in hand, in the world. On the Other.
You just feel like it. To go further. Do not settle for what is on the table in front of anyone, but go on the next book. The shelf above. Do set limits than its physical strength. Have a hair in the hand makes things more difficult. The regrets years later not having had enough lucidity to these key data ... we are almost
Obviously, the need to pay rent and feed themselves, shortened considerably ambitions.
But because I did not really want. I'm sure if I really wanted, and if so and so ... I would have acted differently.
So sorry, but to catch up.
Better late than never. Late than never. Fac
Cheers, whatever is said.
PS: today: Emily Loizeau, "Savage Land"
Youn Sun Nah, "Voyage"
and Eddy Mitchell, "Big Screen"
Yes. 
Today we celebrate the anniversary of a death. From a president, a statesman.
I saw him in real life.
Not very big, not very fast, very ill indeed, he came to inaugurate the Fac to which I belonged in 1994. It was a gray day. But the walls of the FAC were still very colorful, it was new, it was beautiful, it was red, yellow, orange and black. Me, I liked.
Actually, I always have a twinge of regret when I pass
UBO is the symbol of my desires, my failures, my shortcomings, my cravings again. Each time, I wonder if those who work there that day, in the library, or CBRC know their luck.
I did not realize it at the time. I am someone who understands that we must quickly explain long. I associate
Francois Mitterrand to the culture, intelligence, humanity, too. It was somebody. For me, there's no doubt about it, I still bring him great respect. Until the end he remained dignified. Of course the "business". Secrets. The dark side. And so much the better. It takes a lot of mistakes to learn. Why I think
to him, or why is it that at college I associate?
Because the two are linked.
Continue to learn, grow, stay curious, to express themselves, understand, and appreciate things at their fair value. I am convinced that knowledge comes understanding, and that this understanding is essential for a certain social harmony.
The Faculty is a space of freedom to learn. Nothing is or should be taboo, everything can be studied, explained. It is possible to communicate with the "knowledgeable". If they do not know, student status is a passport to go further, another city, another library.
is access to everyone regardless of social status from the tray in hand, in the world. On the Other.
You just feel like it. To go further. Do not settle for what is on the table in front of anyone, but go on the next book. The shelf above. Do set limits than its physical strength. Have a hair in the hand makes things more difficult. The regrets years later not having had enough lucidity to these key data ... we are almost
Obviously, the need to pay rent and feed themselves, shortened considerably ambitions.
But because I did not really want. I'm sure if I really wanted, and if so and so ... I would have acted differently.
So sorry, but to catch up.
Better late than never. Late than never. Fac
Cheers, whatever is said.
PS: today: Emily Loizeau, "Savage Land"
Youn Sun Nah, "Voyage"
and Eddy Mitchell, "Big Screen"
Yes.
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