Dr. Eamers paper goods: label image

apothecary fiction appeals to my sense of wAnder. Humor is often the best remedy for seemingly un-curable problematic, circumstance. 

 Inspiration for this label is from king Lear's cynic:
"Behold yond simpering dame, whose face between her forks presages snow, that minces virtue and does shake the head to hear of pleasure’s name. The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to ’t with a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, though women all above. But to the girdle do the gods inherit; beneath is all the fiends'. There’s hell, there’s darkness, there’s the sulfurous pit— burning, scalding, stench, consumption! Fie, fie, fie, pah, pah!—Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination." ~ King Lear     William Shakespeare
frigid. She pretends to be virtuous and to disdain the word “sex, but she’s hornier than a passel of rabbits. Women are sex machines below the waist, though they’re chaste up above. Above the waist they belong to God, but the lower part belongs to the devil. That’s where hell is, and darkness, and fires and stench! Death and orgasm! Ah, ah, ah! Give me an aphrodisiac, pharmacist. Let me have sweet dreams


Anonymous said…
You are the realm of light and day...your muse and inspiration astounding!