Everything I draw ends up wearing a bow-tie

cosmostar:

 ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
     Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
     And the mome raths outgrabe.

    ’Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
     The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
    Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
     The frumious Bandersnatch!’

    He took his vorpal sword in hand:
     Long time the manxome foe he sought—
    So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
     And stood awhile in thought.

    And as in uffish thought he stood,
     The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
    Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
     And burbled as it came!

    One, two! One, two! And through and through
     The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
    He left it dead, and with its head
     He went galumphing back.

    ’And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
     Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
     He chortled in his joy.

    ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
     Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
     And the mome raths outgrabe.

(via youreashamedofmybaking-blog)