Yum, Heroin!
Cures more than just a toothache, probably.
You know when the Pope advertises it, it’s gotta be good!
Writing an essay on cocaine usage in Doyle’s The Sign of Four and narcotic usage in the Victorian Era in general. Updates on that to come soon!
PS: Did you know–Cocaine was used to treat Morphine addictions? Splendiferous!
And the eyeballs agree with me.
Last weekend, the St. Louis girls (and guys!) got together for a splendid little meet-up at the St. Louis Science Center. Admission was free! We got to see a wide number of exhibits including a most excellent “old timey” apothecary type display. They had quite a variety of arcane operating implements along with some very tasty looking glass eyeballs. Gienah approved.
Elixir of life? Or a draught of hair rengeration potion?
As long as it doesn’t involve leeches….
Instruments of healing? Or torture? You decide!
Photo courtesy Rusty.
Smile! Photo courtesy Rusty.
Sweet, Arcane, instruments…
Death in its most hideous form.
The blog is currently under construction still, but we hope to get things up and running in a timely fashion! We have a lot of fun and exciting things planned for the blog. Gienah and I are planning to write articles with a focus on college lolitas, and hopefully some articles on how to pack your items! 
We’re also planning on writing product reviews for various brands/companies with an emphasis on gothic and classic lolita. Expect great things to come! 
‘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.
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow –
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand –
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
