(Untitled)

[samplemywares]

[underneath one of the larger trees a little left of center for camp, there is a blanket laid out with an assortment of pills, little glass vials of some dark liquid, and a neat stack of books that has been carefully covered to censor most of the top illustration. there are even some chocolates, nicely-wrapped in small red boxes. the Medicine

Comments

[vampfuckudie]

Other options?

[samplemywares]

Indeed.

A whole variety of them, one might say ...

[vampfuckudie]

OK, so I can see the porn, candy, and jewelry boxes. Care to explain the pills?

[samplemywares]

They are ... rather special, one might say.

To win the heart of a lover--to strengthen a lover's resolve--among other things.

[vampfuckudie]

*snort*

Love potions.

[samplemywares]

Your doubt wounds me.

[vampfuckudie]

There's no such thing as a "love potion," unless we're talking a magical mix of Sodium thiopental and Stockholm Syndrome.

[samplemywares]

So very certain, are you?

How ... admirable.

[vampfuckudie]

I'm a scientist. I don't have any time for magic or superstition.

[samplemywares]

Not even for tomorrow ... ?

How sad.

[vampfuckudie]

For an insipid holiday made up entirely by the greeting card companies? I don't think so.

[samplemywares]

Hohhhhhh ...

[vampfuckudie]

Set up to guilt people into thinking there's something wrong with them unless they have a "significant other" to buy mass-produced crap for.

[samplemywares]

I assure you, that is ... hardly what I intend for, here.

[vampfuckudie]

Right, sorry. Hand-crafted snake oil, in your case.

[samplemywares]

Frog pills, actually.