My sweet little Poe passed away yesterday. He was moving around like a limpy old man in his cage though so it wasn't a surprise. I was actually impressed he lasted as long as he did.

I salute you, last of the great poets.

When Ali gets home we're going to find some place to bury him in the yard, probably outside her window near Baudelaire.

Mr Edgar Poe is sitting on my desk and doing what he does best: adorableness and eating treats with his adorable tiny little hands! ohmygodsocute!

It's 5am. I really did promise myself I was going to get better at this tonight. Alas.

The new Epica album has leaked although I haven't got a copy of it yet. (The video for the first single is kinda ( Read more... )

My sweet little Byron has passed away.

And tomorrow I'm taking Baudelaire to the vet where he will probably meet the same fate.

Poor little Poe will be friendless.

On Saturday night everything seemed to be working against us, so we never got to the In Goth We Trust thing that was happening in town. A pity, since I was really looking forward to it. But, eh, what can you do, right ( Read more... )

This morning the ladies of the LFoD received a strange and wondrous package from across the seas. Within said packages was to be found numerous lovely gifts and among these were teabags of the exotically delicious kind ( Read more... )