@AMicronouvelles Sinaya-Attrape-Soleil ?
Oui oui elle travaille bien ici, elle est là-haut, juste là. On la voit d'ici.
À votre service.
Vous êtes de la famille ?
Oui non ça ne me regarde pas vous avez raison.
Andrew a du métier.
Il pige de suite que ce qu'il a sur son moniteur de contrôle ne correspond pas tout à fait à la réalité.
Le pif.
On tente de le gruger.
Un casse, il en est sûr, c'est un casse.
@AMicronouvelles - pssst
- mmmh ?
- non rien
- mmmh ?
- rien j'te dis !
- mais tu m ...
- oui mais non mais rien laisse
- heu
- oui ben voilà laisse
- ...
@AuroreLalucq JlM s'en prend au communautarisme et au lobbyisme, continuer de le peindre en antisémite avéré fait du mal à tous et en premier lieu aux juifs de France.
Au passage, je n'avais jamais vu une chèvre avec des larmes de crocodile. Biologiquement instructif.
🔴🗣 "Jean-Luc Mélenchon est le candidat du fascisme", affirme Julien Odoul, député et porte-parole du RN, qui appelle à ce que le candidat LFI à la présidentielle "redevienne un candidat résiduel". #canal16
Phil Collins May Have Sat Down, But His Music Never Did
Some performances make us remember a singer because of their voice. Others make us remember an entire era.
Phil Collins sits on stage, microphone in hand, with his band behind him. He can no longer move across the stage with the energy he once had. Health problems have affected his mobility, forcing him to perform seated. Yet just seconds after he begins to sing, those limitations seem to become almost insignificant.
What strikes me is not simply that Phil Collins can still sing at this stage of his life. It is the way he sings—as if these songs still mean something deeply personal to him.
The gestures of his hands, his eyes, the moments when he closes them, or slightly leans into the emotion of a lyric all reveal something: age can change the body, but it cannot easily erase the connection between an artist and his music.
And then you remember the Phil Collins of the 1980s and 1990s.
It was one of the most remarkable periods of songwriting in popular music. Another Day in Paradise, One More Night, Sussudio, Against All Odds, A Groovy Kind of Love… These songs did not simply appear on the charts and disappear. They became part of an entire generation’s memories.
Perhaps that is why seeing the man who created so many hits now sitting on a chair carries an emotion that goes beyond the music. It comes from the distance between then and now.
We often think time takes everything away. It turns hair gray, slows the body, and makes things that once seemed effortless much harder. But there are things time cannot completely take from us: memories, experience, and the passion we have spent a lifetime building.
Phil Collins on stage today is no longer the young man he was in the 1980s. But he does not need to become that man again.
He only needs to sit there and sing.
Because sometimes, the beauty of an artist is not measured by how much they can still do compared with their younger years. It is measured by what they still have to give after life has taken so much away.
And Phil Collins still has his music.
He still has the songs that can take people back to their youth.
He still has a voice that can bring an entire era back to life for a few minutes.
Maybe that is what makes this performance so moving: a legend does not need to prove that he is still young. He only needs to show us that the fire inside him never truly went out.
@AMicronouvelles - Mais gnnnfrrkk
- Qu'est-ce qu'il y a Brotox?
- J'peux pas dormir ! Chaque fois que Jdiky réfléchit ça fout une lumière de diiingue j'en peux plus.
@AMicronouvelles C'est en entrant dans le sauna, afin de demander au zèbre s'il souhaitait un ajout de charbon, que la maîtresses des lieux s'est, finalement, abstenue de toute question superflue.