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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.

4 Comments

  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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