But there's one more bit since it wasn't quite done with Countess Elizabeth Báthory de Ecsed. (Ithaka: The Countess de Bathory Was Right About Young Blood)
The bits about Marat / Clemenceau and bombing Mexico's poppy fields have percolated for a few days and, in a wtf moment, they sprang to appalling life. You don't know the ultraviolence until a B-52 delivers it. (Ithaka: Georges Clemenceau and Jean-Paul Marat, New Heroes of the Violent Left and So, My Droogies, No Stomach for a Bit of the Ultraviolence?)
Elizabeth Bathory is a fascination because she may be the most horribly awful person who ever lived. This was her castle and they couldn't even execute her for what she did because she was from the nobility.
Here is what's left of her castle:
She had her minions find six hundred and fifty virgins and they were brought here where she had them killed for their blood. She's so skin-crawlingly evil we love her.
It's said her minions had more difficulty as time went by because they would ask around for virgins in the village but had decreasing luck that way.
Minion: ahoy, li'l strumpet. You a virgin?
Li'l Strumpet: noooo, not me. I've had sex with the entire town orchestra. Not me, I'm no virgin.
Minion: say you there, li'l tart. Are you a virgin?
Li'l Tart: no way, not me. I work the Holiday Inn. Come and see me some time.
Minion: how about the baby?
Li'l Tart: the baby is not a virgin either since she was raped by her satanic uncle.
Minion: that's shocking.
Li'l Tart: it's ok. I had him killed.
This is so twisted evil there's no possible way to make sense of it but here's the place where she did it. As to her punishment, they bricked her into a room in this castle and fed her through a slot until she died maybe five years later. Even as wrecked as it is, this place is probably haunted by more wraiths and demons than a Clinton family reunion.
Young tough guys think it's bad to sleep over in a cemetery but let's see you do it here, cabron.
The Surefire Rockhouse Tough Guy Test: throw a spider at him.
The bits about Marat / Clemenceau and bombing Mexico's poppy fields have percolated for a few days and, in a wtf moment, they sprang to appalling life. You don't know the ultraviolence until a B-52 delivers it. (Ithaka: Georges Clemenceau and Jean-Paul Marat, New Heroes of the Violent Left and So, My Droogies, No Stomach for a Bit of the Ultraviolence?)
Elizabeth Bathory is a fascination because she may be the most horribly awful person who ever lived. This was her castle and they couldn't even execute her for what she did because she was from the nobility.
Here is what's left of her castle:
She had her minions find six hundred and fifty virgins and they were brought here where she had them killed for their blood. She's so skin-crawlingly evil we love her.
It's said her minions had more difficulty as time went by because they would ask around for virgins in the village but had decreasing luck that way.
Minion: ahoy, li'l strumpet. You a virgin?
Li'l Strumpet: noooo, not me. I've had sex with the entire town orchestra. Not me, I'm no virgin.
Minion: say you there, li'l tart. Are you a virgin?
Li'l Tart: no way, not me. I work the Holiday Inn. Come and see me some time.
Minion: how about the baby?
Li'l Tart: the baby is not a virgin either since she was raped by her satanic uncle.
Minion: that's shocking.
Li'l Tart: it's ok. I had him killed.
This is so twisted evil there's no possible way to make sense of it but here's the place where she did it. As to her punishment, they bricked her into a room in this castle and fed her through a slot until she died maybe five years later. Even as wrecked as it is, this place is probably haunted by more wraiths and demons than a Clinton family reunion.
Young tough guys think it's bad to sleep over in a cemetery but let's see you do it here, cabron.
The Surefire Rockhouse Tough Guy Test: throw a spider at him.
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