A cadaverous cocktail party set in the severed vein of gothic horror. We'll wake the dead and warm the crypt-like cold of my new haunts, 14 Liberty Avenue. Poe-like potables, Lovecraftian liquors, as well as victimized victuals - by the time we leave, many of our braincells will have joined the hordes of the undead. Come hungry for brains, or appetizers if so inclined. We will start early and likely shamble off elsewhere in search of warm flesh.
-LA
Today I had to pick up a woman at the train station. As I arrived I saw that she had a shock of purple hair, matching stockings, which all seemed to fit with what I already knew her email address to be: mistressx69. Turns out her boyfriend, having spent a significant time in HP Lovecraft's home state of Rhode Island, designs and builds small sculptures of Cthulu (he is presently working on a red one that lights up - his "lava Cthulu"). I wish I could have a few cocktails and a conversation with that couple.
