Jack Vettriano Heat WaveJack Vettriano Heartbreak HotelJack Vettriano Good Time Girls
did he approve of Stibbons's robe. It was the right length but a washed‑out greeny‑grey, with pockets and toggles and a hood with a bit of rabbit fur around the edge. There weren't any sequins or jewels or mystic symbols anywhere. Just a blodgy stain where Stibbons's pen leaked.
'You ain't been out lately?' said Ridcully.
'No, sir. Er. Should I have 'Er. Yes?' said Ponder, backing away. 'That's all right, isn't it? I mean, this is a university . . .'
Ridcully scratched his ear. The man was right, of course. You had to have some of the buggers around, there was no getting away from it. Personally, he avoided them .whenever possible, as did the rest of the faculty, occasionally running the other way or hiding behind doors whenever been? I've been busy working on my Make‑It‑Bigger device. You 'Right, right,' said Ridcully, looking around. 'Anyone else been working in here?''Well . . . there's me, and Tez the Terrible and Skazz and Big Mad Drongo, I think . . .'Ridcully blinked.'What are they?' he said. And then, from the depths of memory, a horrible answer suggested itself. Only a very specific species had names like that.'Students?'
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Monday, 11 May 2009
Marc Chagall Adam and Eve
Marc Chagall Adam and EveMarc Chagall La MarieePaul Gauguin Yellow ChristPaul Gauguin Where Do We Come From
happened next. It made you want to paint your bedroom wall black and cover it with posters.
Now various into the Great Hall, hands waving wildly overhead to maintain balance.
He stopped.
Moonlight filtered in through the big windows, illuminating what the Archchancellor always referred to as 'our mighty organ', to the general embarrassment of the rest of the faculty.
Rack upon rack of pipes entirely occupied one wall, looking like pillars in the gloom or possibly muscles on the Librarian's body were twitching with the beat as the music earthed itself through him.There was a small party of wizards in the corner. They were watching the performance with their mouths open.And the beat strode on, and crackled from mind to mind, snapping its fingers and curling its lip.Live music. Music with rocks in it, running wild . . .Free at last! It leapt from head to head, crackling in through the ears and heading for the hindbrain. Some were more susceptible than others . . . closer to the beat . . .It was an hour later.The Librarian knuckled and swung through the midnight drizzle, head exploding with music.He landed on the lawns of Unseen University and ran
happened next. It made you want to paint your bedroom wall black and cover it with posters.
Now various into the Great Hall, hands waving wildly overhead to maintain balance.
He stopped.
Moonlight filtered in through the big windows, illuminating what the Archchancellor always referred to as 'our mighty organ', to the general embarrassment of the rest of the faculty.
Rack upon rack of pipes entirely occupied one wall, looking like pillars in the gloom or possibly muscles on the Librarian's body were twitching with the beat as the music earthed itself through him.There was a small party of wizards in the corner. They were watching the performance with their mouths open.And the beat strode on, and crackled from mind to mind, snapping its fingers and curling its lip.Live music. Music with rocks in it, running wild . . .Free at last! It leapt from head to head, crackling in through the ears and heading for the hindbrain. Some were more susceptible than others . . . closer to the beat . . .It was an hour later.The Librarian knuckled and swung through the midnight drizzle, head exploding with music.He landed on the lawns of Unseen University and ran
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Alphonse Maria Mucha Biscuits Champagne Lefevre Utile
Alphonse Maria Mucha Biscuits Champagne Lefevre UtilePierre Auguste Renoir The First OutingPierre Auguste Renoir Sleeping GirlThomas Kinkade The Spirit of New York
galloped over the cobbles. There was a cart at the other end of the alley. And, beyond the cart, a wall.
'Not that way!' whined Gaspode.
Dogs were piling Gaspode swung perilously from the werewolf's jaws.
'They're still behind us!'
Gaspode shut his eyes as Angua bunched her muscles.
'Oh, no! Not Treacle Mine Road!'
There was a burst of acceleration followed by a moment of calmness. Gaspode shut his eyes . . .along behind them. Angua leapt on to the cart.'I can't get up there!' said Gaspode. 'Not with my leg!'She jumped down, picked him up by the scruff of his neck, and leapt back. There was a shed roof behind the cart, a ledge above that and – a few tiles slid under her paws and tumbled into the alley – a house.'I feel sick!''Futupf!'Angua ran along the ridge of the roof and jumped the alley on the other side, landing heavily in some ancient thatch.'Aargh!''Futupf!'But the dogs were following them. It wasn't as though the alleys of the Shades were very wide.Another narrow alley passed below.
galloped over the cobbles. There was a cart at the other end of the alley. And, beyond the cart, a wall.
'Not that way!' whined Gaspode.
Dogs were piling Gaspode swung perilously from the werewolf's jaws.
'They're still behind us!'
Gaspode shut his eyes as Angua bunched her muscles.
'Oh, no! Not Treacle Mine Road!'
There was a burst of acceleration followed by a moment of calmness. Gaspode shut his eyes . . .along behind them. Angua leapt on to the cart.'I can't get up there!' said Gaspode. 'Not with my leg!'She jumped down, picked him up by the scruff of his neck, and leapt back. There was a shed roof behind the cart, a ledge above that and – a few tiles slid under her paws and tumbled into the alley – a house.'I feel sick!''Futupf!'Angua ran along the ridge of the roof and jumped the alley on the other side, landing heavily in some ancient thatch.'Aargh!''Futupf!'But the dogs were following them. It wasn't as though the alleys of the Shades were very wide.Another narrow alley passed below.
Monday, 4 May 2009
Pop art guitar
Pop art guitarPop art guitar playerPop art elvis
glanced at the rooftops.
'Oh, well, now it's all settled we'll be off, right,' said Colon. 'Right, Nobby?'
'Oh, yeah, we'll be .'
'Is it?'
'Yes!'
'Oh.'
Detritus considered this for a while, nodded, and settled back into whatever state of mind he normally occupied.
Another neuron gave a fizzle.off all right, because it's all settled,' said Nobby. 'You hear that, Cuddy?''What, that it's all settled?' said Cuddy. 'Oh, yeah. We might as well be off. OK, Detritus?'Detritus was staring moodily at nothing with his knuckles resting on the ground. This was a normal stance for a troll while waiting for the next thought to arrive.The syllables of his name kicked a neuron into fitful activity.'What?' he said.'It's all settled.''What is?''You know – Mr Hammerhock's death and everything
glanced at the rooftops.
'Oh, well, now it's all settled we'll be off, right,' said Colon. 'Right, Nobby?'
'Oh, yeah, we'll be .'
'Is it?'
'Yes!'
'Oh.'
Detritus considered this for a while, nodded, and settled back into whatever state of mind he normally occupied.
Another neuron gave a fizzle.off all right, because it's all settled,' said Nobby. 'You hear that, Cuddy?''What, that it's all settled?' said Cuddy. 'Oh, yeah. We might as well be off. OK, Detritus?'Detritus was staring moodily at nothing with his knuckles resting on the ground. This was a normal stance for a troll while waiting for the next thought to arrive.The syllables of his name kicked a neuron into fitful activity.'What?' he said.'It's all settled.''What is?''You know – Mr Hammerhock's death and everything
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Raphael The Holy Family
Raphael The Holy FamilyWilliam Bouguereau The Virgin of the LiliesWilliam Bouguereau The Madonna of the Roses
Something batlike clicked and whirred over his head, circled erratically in the middle of the room, and then flew apart into a dozen jerking pieces.
'Oh dear,' his hair, rising like a mighty rock dome through heavy forest.
Inspirations sleet through the universe continuously. Their destination, as if they cared, is the right mind in the place at the right time. They hit the right neuron, there's a chain reaction, and a little while later someone is blinking foolishly in the TV lights and wondering how the hell he came up with the idea of pre-sliced bread in the first place.said a mild voice. 'Back to the drawing tablet. Good afternoon, your lordship.''Good afternoon, Leonard,' said the Patrician. 'What was that?''I call it a flapping-wing-flying-device,' said Leonard da Quirm, getting down off his launching stepladder. 'It works by gutta-percha strips twisted tightly together. But not very well, I'm afraid.'Leonard of Quirm was not, in fact, all that old. He was one of those people who started looking venerable around the age of thirty, and would probably still look about the same at the age of ninety. He wasn't exactly bald, either. His head had just grown up through
Something batlike clicked and whirred over his head, circled erratically in the middle of the room, and then flew apart into a dozen jerking pieces.
'Oh dear,' his hair, rising like a mighty rock dome through heavy forest.
Inspirations sleet through the universe continuously. Their destination, as if they cared, is the right mind in the place at the right time. They hit the right neuron, there's a chain reaction, and a little while later someone is blinking foolishly in the TV lights and wondering how the hell he came up with the idea of pre-sliced bread in the first place.said a mild voice. 'Back to the drawing tablet. Good afternoon, your lordship.''Good afternoon, Leonard,' said the Patrician. 'What was that?''I call it a flapping-wing-flying-device,' said Leonard da Quirm, getting down off his launching stepladder. 'It works by gutta-percha strips twisted tightly together. But not very well, I'm afraid.'Leonard of Quirm was not, in fact, all that old. He was one of those people who started looking venerable around the age of thirty, and would probably still look about the same at the age of ninety. He wasn't exactly bald, either. His head had just grown up through
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Marc Chagall The Fall of Icarus
Marc Chagall The Fall of IcarusMarc Chagall The BirthdayMarc Chagall RainMarc Chagall Blue Lovers
come you smell so bad? I mean, you smelled bad enough when I was human, but now—'
Gaspode looked proud.
'Good, innit,' he said. 'It didn't just happen. I had to work at it. If you was a true dog, this'd be like really great aftershave. ByI didn't ask you to come.'
'Got nothing else to do,' said Gaspode. 'The House of Ribs don't put its rubbish out till midnight.'
'Haven't you got a home to go to ?' said Angua, as they trotted under a fish-and-chip stall.
'Home? Me? Home? Yeah. Of course. No problemo. Laughing kids, big kitchen, three meals a day, humorous cat next door to chase, own blanket and spot by the fire, he's an old softy but we love him, ekcetra. No problem there. I just like to get out a bit,' said Gaspode.
'Only, I see you haven't got a collar.' the way, you want to get a collar, miss. No-one bothers you if you've got a collar.''Thanks.'Gaspode seemed to have something on his mind.'Er . . . you don't rip hearts out, do you?''Not unless I want to,' said Angua.'Right, right, right,' said Gaspode hurriedly. 'Where're you going?'He broke into a waddling, bow-legged trot to keep up with her.'To have a sniff around Hammerhock's place.
come you smell so bad? I mean, you smelled bad enough when I was human, but now—'
Gaspode looked proud.
'Good, innit,' he said. 'It didn't just happen. I had to work at it. If you was a true dog, this'd be like really great aftershave. ByI didn't ask you to come.'
'Got nothing else to do,' said Gaspode. 'The House of Ribs don't put its rubbish out till midnight.'
'Haven't you got a home to go to ?' said Angua, as they trotted under a fish-and-chip stall.
'Home? Me? Home? Yeah. Of course. No problemo. Laughing kids, big kitchen, three meals a day, humorous cat next door to chase, own blanket and spot by the fire, he's an old softy but we love him, ekcetra. No problem there. I just like to get out a bit,' said Gaspode.
'Only, I see you haven't got a collar.' the way, you want to get a collar, miss. No-one bothers you if you've got a collar.''Thanks.'Gaspode seemed to have something on his mind.'Er . . . you don't rip hearts out, do you?''Not unless I want to,' said Angua.'Right, right, right,' said Gaspode hurriedly. 'Where're you going?'He broke into a waddling, bow-legged trot to keep up with her.'To have a sniff around Hammerhock's place.
Monday, 27 April 2009
Franz Marc Tiger
Franz Marc TigerFranz Marc StablesFranz Marc FoxesFranz Marc fighting forms
made of silk edged with lace and pearls, but Lady Ramkin was so rich she could afford to stomp around the place in rubber boots andhe was in Ankh-Morpork on a foggy night by the feel of the cobbles.
But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that'd still be keeping his feet dry in ten years' time, while a poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.
This was the Captain Samuel Vimes 'Boots' theory of socio-economic unfairness. a tweed skirt that had belonged to her mother. She was so rich she could afford to live on biscuits and cheese sandwiches. She was so rich she lived in three rooms in a thirty-four-roomed mansion; the rest of them were full of very expensive and very old furniture, covered in dust sheets.The reason that the rich were so rich, Vimes reasoned, was because they managed to spend less money.Take boots, for example. He earned thirty-eight dollars a month plus allowances. A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars. Those were the kind of boots Vimes always bought and wore until the soles were so thin that he could tell where
made of silk edged with lace and pearls, but Lady Ramkin was so rich she could afford to stomp around the place in rubber boots andhe was in Ankh-Morpork on a foggy night by the feel of the cobbles.
But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that'd still be keeping his feet dry in ten years' time, while a poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.
This was the Captain Samuel Vimes 'Boots' theory of socio-economic unfairness. a tweed skirt that had belonged to her mother. She was so rich she could afford to live on biscuits and cheese sandwiches. She was so rich she lived in three rooms in a thirty-four-roomed mansion; the rest of them were full of very expensive and very old furniture, covered in dust sheets.The reason that the rich were so rich, Vimes reasoned, was because they managed to spend less money.Take boots, for example. He earned thirty-eight dollars a month plus allowances. A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars. Those were the kind of boots Vimes always bought and wore until the soles were so thin that he could tell where
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