Edward John Poynter,Psyche in the Temple of Love,1882,detail.
good morning yugoslavs...
had a dream last night that John Gaius from the locked tomb gave me top surgery. He said "will you stop fucking complaining already" and he snapped his fingers and they were gone. He was being a bit of a nasty cunt about it but all things considered it was a nice thing to do
assistant: and don't forget sir that you have a meeting this afternoon with the stakeholders
dracula:
our discord unanimously agreed that ratatouille is a mecha and I cried laughing after making this joke
