Sistine Chapel
Whoa.
"Are you or aren't you going to eat your soup, you bloody old cloud merchant?" Jeanne Duval shouted, hitting Baudelaire on the back as he sat daydreaming out the window. Baudelaire was startled. Then he laughed like hell, waving his spoon in the air like a wand changing the room into a painting by Salvador Dali, changing the room into a painting by Van Gogh.
3 days ago
"
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
3 days ago
“She scares the crap out of me,” Lula said. “And you’re in big trouble. You did nicky nacky and now you got the vordo.” - Smokin’ Seventeen
5 days ago
| Notes: 29939
2 weeks ago
| Notes: 673
1 month ago
| Notes: 6
