George Harrison’s fisheye self portraits in India, September 1966.
Royalty. Nobility. Gentry. How quaint. Even the rabble.
The times I’ve reblogged this…
My baby will go far in the world of tumblr
When we met your sister, she promised she would show you to us. Every day we would ask. Every day she would say, “Soon.” Then she and your brother took us to your nursery and she unveiled the freak. Your head was a bit large. Your arms and legs were a bit small, but no claw. No red eye. No tail between your legs. Just a tiny pink cock. We didn’t try to hide our disappointment. “That’s not a monster,” I told Cersei, “That’s just a baby.” And she said, “He killed my mother.” And she pinched your little cock so hard, I thought she might pull it off. Until your brother made her stop. “It doesn’t matter.” she told us, “Everyone says he will die soon. I hope they’re right. He should not have lived this long.”