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Toulouse Le Grandfig's Summer Vacation: Kiss-meat

The FatesSS Plotkin, circa. 1901

I separate the mists of time like the Great Jabber Monkey’s own cosmic speculum.

The Fates glare at me as I slowly walk up the gangway: Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos.

“You cannot avoid your destiny,” Clotho says to me, her sea-cap at a jaunty angle.

“No,” Lachesis affirmed. “There is no escape.”

“Arf!” said Atropos, and then piddled on Clotho’s gaberdine cruiseware.

Next Time: A Brassademic

About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer and writer who never gave up dadaism. Also, he played a mean sousaphone.

The staff apologies for the inadvertent classical allusions used in this post. If you would show us by purchasing a copy of Marvellous Hairy, we’d appreciate it. Then mess with these people. Originally published July 2008.


  1. Arf! Arf! Grrrrr….arf!

  2. What’s that Atrapos? Timmy’s fallen down the well?

  3. Fallen or pushed?

  4. Well, if it was fated to happen, does it matter …

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