Jack Vettriano And So to Bed

Jack Vettriano And So to BedJack Vettriano an Imperfect pastJack Vettriano An Imperfect Past II
skinny one's wearing a flared robe,' said Noddy.
'He must be old.'
'And they've all got guitars! Do you reckon they've come to see us?'
'Bound to have,' what Music With Rocks In is about!'
Asphalt, Cliff and Glod sat in one corner of the dressing room. The roar of the crowd could be heard from here.
'Why's he not saying anything?' Asphalt whispered.
'Dunno,' said Glod.
Buddy was staring at nothing, with the guitar cradled in his arms. Occasionally he'd slap the casing, very gently, in time with whatever thoughts were sluicing through his head.
'He goes like that sometimes,' said Cliff. 'Just sits and looks at the air–’
'Hey, they're shouting something out there,' said Glod. 'Listen.'
The roar had a rhythm to it.said Noddy.'That's a bodacious audience,' said Jimbo.'Yeah, that's right, bodacious,' said Scum. 'Er. What's bodacious mean?''Means . . . means it bodes,' said Jimbo.'Right. It looks like it's boding all right.'Crash thrust aside his doubts.'Let's get out there,' he said, 'and really show them

Jack Vettriano Winter Light and Lavender

Jack Vettriano Winter Light and LavenderJack Vettriano Welcome To My WorldJack Vettriano We Can't Tell Right from Wrong
The old music shop was right up against the University, after all, and magic did leak out despite what the wizards always said about the talking rats and walking trees just being statistical flukes. But this didn't feel like magic. It felt a lot older than that. It felt like music.
Glod 'Door's too narrow.'
Buddy, coming up the stairs behind the troll, heard the crunch of woodwork.
'Try it again.'
'Fits perfectly.'
There was a piano‑shaped hole around the doorway. Glod was standing next to it, holding his axe. Buddy looked at the wreckage all over the landing.
'What the hell are you doing?' he said. 'That's someone else's wall !'
'Well? It's someone else's piano.'
'Yes, but . . . you can't just hack holes in the wall–’
'What's more important? Some wall or getting the sound right?' said ‑Glod.
Buddy hesitated. Part of him thought: that's ridiculous, it's

Thomas Cole Kaaterskill Falls

Thomas Cole Kaaterskill FallsClaude Monet Vetheuil In SummerClaude Monet The LuncheonClaude Monet Sunflowers
bald towel dropped off the rail and skipped across the floor, until it fell away to reveal the Death of Rats.
SQUEAK?
'Oh, all right,' said Susan. 'Where do you want me to go now?'
The rat scurried to the ‘'Snot my fault! [spray] I was against it from the start but, oh no, he has to go and [recover piece of ballistic sausage from table] start gettin' involved, I told him, i's'not as if you're not involved [stab unidentified fried object], oh no, that's not his way [spray, jab fork at the air], once you get involved like that, I said, how're you getting out, tell me that [make temporary egg‑and‑ketchup sanopen door and disappeared into the hall.Susan followed it to yet another door. She turned yet another handle.Another room within a room lay beyond. There was a tiny area of lighted tiling in the darkness, containing the distant vision of a table, a few chairs, a kitchen dresser––and someone. A hunched figure was sitting at the table. As Susan cautiously approached she heard the rattle of cutlery on a plate.An old man was eating his supper, very noisily. In between forkfuls, he was talking to himself with his mouth full. It was a kind of auto bad manners.dwich] but, oh no–'

Andy Warhol Shadows I

Andy Warhol Shadows IAndy Warhol OxidationAndy Warhol NeuschwansteinAndy Warhol Knives black and white
No‑one knows why Death started to take a practical interest in the human beings he had worked with for so long. It was probably just curiosity. Even the most efficient rat‑catcher will sooner or later take an interest in rats. They might watch rats live and die, and record every detail of rat existence, although they may never themselves actually know what it is Actually, it's only thirty‑three per cent, but it could be worse.

Where to finish?
A dark, stormy night. A coach, horses gone, plunging through the rickety, useless fence and dropping, tumbling into the gorge below. It doesn't even strike an outcrop of rock before it hits the dried river‑bed far below, and erupts into fragmentslike to run the maze.But if it is true that the act of observing changes the thing which is more true that it changes the observer.Mort and Ysabell got married.They had a child.This is also a story about sex and drugs and Music With Rocks In.Well . . .. . . one out of three ain't bad.

Piet Mondrian Mill in Sunlight

Piet Mondrian Mill in SunlightPiet Mondrian Avond Evening Red TreeMichael Austin The Black DrapeTalantbek Chekirov Tender Passion
clothes brush would be something.'
They froze as the door creaked open.
Carrot walked in. He didn't notice them in the gloom, but trudged to the table. There was a flare and a reek of sulphur as he lit first a match and then a candle.
He removed his helmet, and then sagged as if he'd finally allowed a weight to drop on his shoulders.
They heard him say: 'It can't be right!'
'What can't?' said Angua.
Carrot 'Shut up!' said Angua.
'What?' said Carrot.
'I found out about the room,' said Angua quickly. 'Someone called—'
'Edward d'Eath?' said Carrot, sitting down on the bed. The ancient springs went groing-groing-grink.
'How did you know that?'spun around.'What're you doing here?''Your uniform got stolen while you were spying in the Assassins' Guild,' Gaspode prompted.'My uniform got stolen,' said Angua, 'while I was in the Assassins' Guild. Spying.' Carrot was still staring at her. 'There was some old bloke who kept muttering all the time,' she went on desperately.'Buggrit? Millennium hand and shrimp?''Yes, that's right—''Foul Ole Ron.' Carrot sighed. 'Probably sold it for a drink. I know where he lives, though. Remind me to go and have a word with him when I've got time.''You don't want to ask her what she was wearing when she was in the Guild,' said Gaspode, who had crept under the bed.

Cao Yong GARDEN BEAUTIES

Cao Yong GARDEN BEAUTIESCao Yong FreedomCao Yong Day of Love
O. T. Dibbler's Genuine Authentic Soggy Mountain Dew,' she read. 'He's going to die! It says, "One hundred and fifty per cent proof"!'
'Nah, that's just old m' drun' if I was sober!'
'Get him some coffee,' said Angua.
'I reckon he's beyond our coffee,' said Colon. 'Nobby, nip along to Fat Sally's in Squeezebelly Alley and get a jug of their special Klatchian stuff. Not a metal jug, mind.'
Vimes blinked as they manhandled him into a chair.
All go 'way,' he said. 'Bang! Bang!'
'Lady Sybil's going to be really mad,' said Nobby. 'You know he promised to leave it alone.'
'Captain Vimes?' said Carrot.

Pierre Auguste Renoir After The Bath

Pierre Auguste Renoir After The BathPierre Auguste Renoir After The Bath 1888Thomas Kinkade The old fishing hole
Lightning lemons? If 11 be men with wings next!
And you know what he said? You know what he said? He said: Funny you should say that . . . Poor old chap.'
Even Cuddy joined in the laughter.
'And did you try it?' he .'
'I thought it was some alchemy thing,' said Cuddy. 'It looks a bit like a crossbow without the bow. And this word Ennogeht. What does that mean?'
'Search me. Sounds barbarian to me. Anyway . . . if that's all, officer . . . we've got some serious research to do,' said Silverfish, tossing the fake ivory ball up in the air and catching it again. 'We're not all daydreamers like poor old Leonard.'
'Ennogeht,' said Cuddy, turning the paper round andsaid, afterwards.'Try what?' said Silverfish.'Har. Har. Har,' said Detritus, toiling behind the others.'Putting the metal rods in the lemons?''Don't be a damn: fool.''What dis letter mean?' said Detritus, pointing at the paper.They looked.'Oh, that's not a symbol,' said Silverfish. 'That's just old Leonard's way. He was always doodling in margins. Doodle, doodle, doodle. I told him: you should call yourself Mr Doodle