I don't know where you get your delusions.

“Forgot your way home?” Dean enquired, thumbs tucked into the hems of his breeches.

No

OH, and EVERYONE sounds like Christian Bale’s Batman.

To be honest, these have always creeped and repulsed the living Hell out of me. I attended a show of Farmer’s in NYC, lasted about 10 minutes and then I hightailed it out of there; I was just that bothered. They’re fantastic, though, so here you are: 

Tessa Farmer - Swarm (2004) - mixed media, desiccated insect remains, dried plant roots, and other organic ephemera

“Farmer’s tiny sculptures give a glimpse into the world of fairies. No story-book land of Tinkerbells, Swarm envisions the purveyors of mischief and magic as an actual species, as animalistic and Darwinian as any other.

Exchanging Victorian romanticism for the darker pragmatism of science, Farmer evidences her specimens as fearsome skeletal fiends, plausible ‘Hell’s Angels’ of a microscopic apocalypse.

He’s kissed them all…

except Mickey