This has to be the ugliest thing I have ever seen in my life!!! Even worse then the world cup of hockey trophy. I'm looking for a shot of the actual thing but it seems like nobody wants to be seen with this thing and i dont blame them
Worst thing : an "artist" was probably paid an outrageous sum of money to design the thing. I just knew I was in the wrong business.
Ugly????? No they're great. Psuedo Art Deco Nouvo......... Come on, the traditional Cups are cliche anyways....
There weren't any trophies for championship victories untill recently. And they decided to innovate...
the Ligue 1 is awful as well. They have to find some decent looking trophies...or just give them a woman. (Wait till Iougs sees this mess )
France is some sort of heaven for all the conceptual-post-neo-modern artists through the world, who come here and rapidly become millionaires. If you want to become a rich man, just go out the plane at Charles-de-Gaulle and say things Salvadore-Dali-like : "moâ croirre artist doâ rrrrévéler rrréalité conceptuâale du môônde, au delâ du substrâât abstrâctif de la pâronômââââse psycho-societâllle duuu intêêrrrscrript". You'll probably get a medal and 750 000 € of public funds, even before they check your identity. Buren made millions with pyjamas stripes, and Christo the same with wrapping papers and sellotape. If you're a movie director, make it the most boringly pretentious you can imagine. If you're a musician or theatre actor, it's paramount to have no audience whatsoever. If you're a writer, go for the most basic, ugly and obscenely pornographic stuff, written in nearly illiterate manner, and pretend it's neo-something. We call this "exception culturelle", and we're all really proud of that.
Just to back up my speech with evidences. 1) one of the Buren paintings : 2) one of Christo works : And no jokes, they really became millionaires in France with that kind of things. When do we start ? In comparison, the ligue 2 trophy is nothing.
Oh my God! I'm giving up subbuteo and soccer and becoming a French artist. My mom's last name was Reynaud... Panic Reynaud... Reynaud Panic... yeah, that's got a ring to it. I could paint a canvas blue, with a slightly different shade of blue in the corner... "Nightime in Lyon" Oh yeah, I think I've got something with this. Oh man... I want to be an artist. Oh man!!! Vive la France!
I once ate too many raspberry crepes with my mochachino in a Parisian cafe a few years back... Needless to say, nature took its course and the public health warnings about overeating and stuffing your face with sugary pancackes was not heeded by myself, and I just couldn't hold it in. As I sought to make a frantic dash indoors and head for the nearest WC at the back of Cafe, where the cigarette vendor is - I foolishly, hadn't accounted on that clumsy oaf, Jean-Pierre, the waiter whom I had encountered numerous times with stubborn exchanges, to be stood in my direction as I ran frantically like headless chicken holding my mouth together with my clasped hands... It was inevitable. I just couldn't contain it, and preceded to vomit annd spew over the nearest sidewalk onto the dusky slate pavements of Montmartre... My stomach hurt like hell - it felt like a thousands knives stabbing me in the belly with firery satanic burns at every flex of their pointed tips... But on the upside, some art critic saw it and paid me 50 euros for my 'creation'... True story...
wife approved of the painting project "You did a good job with the bathroom, and you do well with colors. Sure, get a canvas and some paint." Oh man! I'll be buying my team sooner than I thought.