-- Slavin:
There was a lot of this
-- Slavin:
tastes like independence... no, wait...
-- Slavin:
I am happy, here, because the Corsicans have allowed us to sit down at the cafe in the village.
-- Slavin:
beach + weather = sandstorm
-- Slavin:
A lot of this (view from the terrace)
-- Slavin:
the village
-- Slavin:
view from bedroom
-- Slavin:
Checking to see if the US economy has collapsed in the meantime
-- Slavin:
Some strange seismic event that had nothing to do with us
-- Slavin:
Everyday life during the perma-drizzle of the second week
-- Slavin:
There should be more municipal seating like this
-- Slavin:
pictoplasma at rest
-- Slavin:
A lot of this
-- Slavin:
free time minus electricity = books
-- Slavin:
bad weather is pretty
-- Slavin:
Lots of this at the house
-- Slavin:
wilderness parkour, not really
-- Slavin:
Napoleon's birthday! Light stuff on fire!!!
-- Slavin:
Lots of nothing
-- Slavin:
the river was cold enough to make your testicles ascend
-- Slavin:
Strangers fucking on the stone beach at sunset. Over on the right is someone else, videotaping them.
-- Slavin:
Tony on the beach
-- Slavin:
Tragedy of communication
-- Slavin:
Anna aspiring to Dr. Seuss status
-- Slavin:
The Corsicans *love* Che Guevara. It's sort of weird.
-- Slavin:
This happened