Inspirational

Here's a parody of inspirational images that you'll usually find in waiting rooms. They are tree-planting themed. I have a bunch, here's the first five.











Oh yeah, for those interested, mostly treeplanters, I sell those images on t-shirts. I like to think they're much better than the corporative t-shirts we get. If you'd like a particular image on a particular shirt, just let me know and I'll make sure it's available.(They let me have only one of of every type of shrt, but I can go around if needed...)

I have also other t-shirts available for other purposes. You can access my store here or by clicking on the link in the menu.

My god, look at me, selling merchandise on a blog.

Other me: Yes, but it's to pay for my studies. It's either that or prostitution.

First me: Pathetic! Really.

Time to go try to sell-out more.

Méchoui!

Well, again, I didn't post for a while. Sorry, but I was away at a cottage, and I didn't have neither phone or internet at my appartment this week. Got everything installed today. Finally!

I have a shitload of pics to show from my week at the cottage and from Xavier's méchoui (where I was able to see a few Banff friends). I also have pics from my cousin wedding a few weeks ago and from my tourist-in-my-own-city experience, so I guess I'll have to be selective. I'll start with the most recent series of pics, Xav's méchoui, in St-Jean-Baptiste, the wonderful farmland stuck between hills and mountains to the south of Montréal. By the way, a méchoui is basically a big party where you eat a roasted pork and a shitload of corn-on-a-cob.

Look:



From Left to Right: Laurence, Tania (with her trade-marked pout), Marie-Michelle, dog's ass, unknown guy, roasting pig, Steti, Frank and a bunch of strangers.



Frank, Steti and Stéph.



"Ahhh!!! It burns" yelled Tania.



Tania almost looking like she's tall...



The Volleyball/Campfire area.



Tu tires ou tu pointes? Stéphane playing pétanque.



Bunch of people playing the untranslatable, typically southern-French sport. To make it more cliché, we drank some pastis with it.

And before I got to Xavier's place, I stopped in nearby Beloeil where I used to live when I was a kid, in the 80's. Here's two pictures of my old house, the "1134, rue des Pinsons", now definitely inhabited by old people:

Hey Brotha'

Hey! Brother!


You're an ass...


...a copycat...


...and a soccer player!!!


As the years passed, you have grown older...


...slimmer...


...taller...


...better...


...funnier...


...and became yourself a big brother.


You thought you did better than your parents, but you stole from them.
He found a way to do better than you, but he didn't steal from anyone.

You answered all his questions only to piss him off when you couldn't.
To build an original thought he developped his own mind.

You are an admirer of all his works in progress, still translated to others as nothingness, or worse, uselessness.

He found his way, knows the form, just has to start walking and sculpt the shape.

Brotherhood, fraternity. Words emulating a feeling felt only, truly, growing up loving a brother.

Bonne fête Olivier!

I wish mom won't find a way to take this completetely out of context. (Yeah, it happened to me today...)

Your roommate,

Mathieu.

Time to finish on a completely unrelated note, this is a quite funny Colbert interview.