Of shoes and other nothings

A week without a post and no one to complain about it. Wonder what that says about the readership. One, I know, was toasting herself in Cuba. Due to this, a couple of others were working overtime. Miss Y is probably on a roll in Melbourne. The sis is preoccupied by the job search (and that'll be the perfect excuse to never check this). Busy boy Alex is running around in NY... As for the rest, I'm simply assuming they've given up on trying to keep up with me if it means reading in English. Pack of lazy asses.


But the kids came to visit last weekend. We skipped the 15th Erotic Festival and successfully went shoe-shopping. Yes. Proud Euro-fashion victims. Won't have none of that big sneakers crap.


There was a lot of walking around (so comfortable, so cool, great shoes). The weather, for once, cooperated. Pictures were taken. We later stopped at Brüsel, one of'em big ol' comic stores. Ideas of images were jotted down for decorating the hostess's (me - I'm in a third person crisis today) place.


I sat in the stairs, waiting for the tourists to finish browsing.


Girl - Hey, do you like my picture?"
Boy 1 - Not bad. Except the socks and the shoes don't go together."
Boy 2 - Well that's the point, isn't it."

Yeah, man. Exactly.


On the new rules of privacy: an interesting piece in the New York Mag. They will tell you anything...