Contrary to popular belief Salvador Dali was dreamed up completely clean-shaven at Figuras in Catalonia (the wacky ´tache came with the milk teeth). His precocious talent earned him a place at the Madrid Academy of Fine Arts where he was chums with poet, Lorca, and filmmaker Bunuel.
In 1926 the self-effacing surrealist-to-be was permanently expelled from school after telling the profs he was smarter than them. In 1928 he got busy with his cinematic eye-opener, Un Chien Andalou, completely freaking out the props man by asking him for four putrefying donkeys, three ants´ nests and a freshly severed hand (well Surrealists eat lunch too, you know).
Recognising a fellow weirdo when they imagined one, a whole bunch of Paris Surrealists, including Magritte and Paul Eluard, teleported themselves down to Salvador´s place in Spain and he was soon having surreal slap and tickle with Paul´s wife Gala, after she told him her idea of meaningful foreplay was to have him kill her (pretentious minx).
In the late 1930s, trendy society decided that the man with the cat´s whiskers was the cat´s whiskers and began buying his paintings, mirrored false fingernails and freaky fashions by the id load, thus enabling Salvador and Gala to realise the surreal estate of their dreams and transform their humble fisherman´s hut into a vast castle.
During the 1960s clever Salvador realised what NASA should have spotted years ago, when it suddenly dawned on him that Perpignan railway station was the centre of the universe (and there was them thinking it was King´s Cross). However, before Dodgy could ever get around to marketing cut-price inter'Gala'ctic away days, he had a heart attack, melted extremely slowly, and turned into a giant haricot vert.
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