Dear Brothers property. On Christmas Eve of Easter Day, I have a thought and special for all photographers, the real, that their tongues in rowing (if possible, both ...).
You have questions about your professional future? What you'll do this later perhaps?
on how long your girlfriend or your wife is worse agree to subsidize your business shabby artist who does not report a round, before a divorce? (And it's not because you do "sometimes" dishes that things will change something ...)
Oh okay! Just kidding ... Finally ...
on how long your girlfriend or your wife is worse agree to subsidize your business shabby artist who does not report a round, before a divorce? (And it's not because you do "sometimes" dishes that things will change something ...)
Oh okay! Just kidding ... Finally ...
I send you my best wishes for 2011 which will again this year with the announcement of the death of photojournalism in French press (again) just before 2012 years of loose and worst of the election of DSK. False photographers, shaven heads bitumens, less than nothing, you know what I want: Palm finally kiss your job for a real career at the height of your ambitions. That of unemployed professional photographer with a 5-day beard and jackets (sand color) filled pockets. It works more so with the girls, but this is an opportunity for you to come back with all new ideas on the dissemination of images gratos and creativ bullshit.
While you all bunch of no lifes!
Frozen Piglet
Still, I wonder if I did not fuck this week, selling a photo 60 € to "Glamour Russia." Especially because my bank takes 17 € 50 of the Rules Committee. But ultimately, what matters is that I have a poet's soul. Pouët Pouët ...
While you all bunch of no lifes!
Frozen Piglet
Still, I wonder if I did not fuck this week, selling a photo 60 € to "Glamour Russia." Especially because my bank takes 17 € 50 of the Rules Committee. But ultimately, what matters is that I have a poet's soul. Pouët Pouët ...
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