Decadence Era Fan Pillows

Messalina- Probably Intended to Illustrate 6th Satire of Juvenal

"We're following Carrot Top."

They try, but those crows can't make noises they used to. The lost caws!

William Shakespeare sitting at a desk

King George I

Emily Dickinson: Mime - "I think she's saying something about death."

Lessons in Prehistory.

Romeo & Juliet & Ron

"Oh, wow! Is that stunning or what?" "Mid-century classic. Should be in a museum. Let's pee on it." "Totally."

'I met him on a Monday and my heart stood still (would you believe?)')

'Man...You age great!'

The Da Vinci Cod

The University Cricket Match - a sketch at Lord's.

A Footnote - Self Portrait of Beardsley, Bound to the God of Nature

You're my Venus

"A wise choice sir! Aah. . . Da Vinci - a genius of the Renaissance and a man who changed the face of art forever! Would you like that as a bookmark, a pencil sharpener or a fridge magnet. . . ?"

Cargo Bay at Thames Warehouse

Count Valmont- Proposed Titlepage to 'Les Liasons Dangereuses'

"When we asked you to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, Michaelangelo, we were hoping you'd snazz it up."

Cut out and keep your own Jane Austen.

"He's got a great future behind him!"

Edmund Kean Supporting Drury Lane

Frontispiece and Titlepage for Beardsley's Erotic Novel 'Venus and Tannhauser'- Not Used in this Form

An August Bank-Holiday in the East End.

"I'm not loitering officer, I 'm waiting for the next renaissance!"

"Another selfie, Rembrandt?"

Rembrandt's Selfies

1867 Reform Act: 'Fagin's Political School'

La Dame aux Camelias

"So, Heep...have you any excuse for your appalling behaviour?"

Victorian woman at a bar.

Christmas Eve at Mr. Wardle's

A bath at Boulogne. - Appalling position of Mr and Mrs Tomkins, who had a jib horse when the tide was coming in.

Have you ever sued anyone for slander or libel, Randy? Indeed I have, little buddy. It was 1979. Francis Melba stood up in the middle of the cafeteria and accused me - in front of all the other kids - of being "nothing special." So I stood atop my table, ripped my shirt in two, slowly smoothed out my mustache, and then proceeded to flex my pecs, one at a time. HOJ. The sunlight streaming in through the windows scattered off my bouncing pecs like a disco ball. That's when Melba knew he was toast.

Disraeli's Minority Ministry Losing Popular Support