I SAW A TREE BUT IT WAS A DRAGON.

“I was never quite sure whether George Harrison liked me taking pictures of him, because he usually had such a serious face. But one day he saw me pointing my camera at him, and he started hamming it up by putting tambourines on his head, so I guess he didn’t mind.”

Black kitty @ jpg fall 06

kyle maclachlan behind the scenes of blue velvet (1986)

Francis Campbell Boileau Cadell, Man with orange, 1920

Diana, Huntress by Jules Joseph Lefebvre (1879)

Team “not actually oblivious to flirting, just terrified of appearing presumptuous” represent.

“Yes, in the balance of consideration this person’s behaviour could certainly be interpreted as flirtatious, but it would be purest arrogance for me to just assume they actually meant what they said. I should gather more evidence. Forever.”

August Evening, from the porch   -   Harald Slott-Moller  

Danish, 1864-1937

Oil on canvas.  76 x 105 cm (89 x 120 cm).

I can move me with my mind.

Owning a black cat is awesome because you’ll leave the bathroom and The Shape will be waiting for you

String identified:      g a   ac  cat    a         ca       ’     a   t    at      a   T     a            a t  g         

Closest match: Raphanus sativus genome assembly, chromosome: 4 Common name: Radish

Did you hear that buddy?

You’re a radish.

Dave and Mounds of Dirt

One thing most people don't realize about Gazebos is how bloodthirsty they used to be until the 1930s or so. It used to be that in order to appease your average small town gazebo you had to feed it 4-5 marching bands a year, or roughly 2 dozen barbershop groups. Noawadays? Throw it a steely dan cover act every 6 months, maybe a bridal party every few years if you're actively trying to court its favor, and you're pretty much in the clear. And the crazy thing is nobody knows why they calmed down, or that their appetite for flesh won't return to its 19th century heights one day. It's actually an increasingly popular theory among modern Gazebo researchers that we're at the tail end of a period of dormancy and it's only a matter of time until they start howling for blood again. And if/when that does happen there's the question of whether our modern zeeb-keepers are really ready for the task of booking enough sacrificial acts to meet that increased demand. Guild policy has gotten lax in the century since the heyday of Dark Pavillionism and a lot of local keepers refuse to even look at newer research that threatens to upset their status quo. Kind of scary to think about

Bruce Springsteen and Fans 1977 by Lynn Goldsmith

They call me Lestat the way I be lyin in court