Strange company, served hot.
By a cat, of course:
How to be a gentleman sailor. I hope all the men who read this will be taking notes.
"Are you a witch or are you a fairy..." The 1895 burning of Bridget Clearly.
A photograph of William Howard Taft. Big deal, you say? Okay, how about a photograph of William Howard Taft riding a buffalo?
Not to mention Grace Coolidge and her pet raccoon, Rebecca.
|Grace and Rebecca at the White House Easter Egg Hunt, 1927|
While we're continuing this tribute to the animal kingdom, how about Mae West going batty? (H/t Bill Crider.)
A Japanese demon cat. Strange Company has finally found its official mascot.
Gross-out foods through history.
Mary Toft, rabbit-breeder. Considering just what sort of blog I have here, you might be able to guess that this doesn't mean what you would normally think it means...
Edgar, king of all the ravens at the Tower of London, 1927:
Godly, demon-fighting werewolves in the Baltic. Yes, my family comes from that area in the world. Yes, suddenly a lot of things about my heritage make sense now.
George Parrott: From cattle rustler to fashion accessory.
Stoical time-killers and gentle, gregarious tin-canners: Florida tourism, 1922 style. Frankly, it all sounds like much more fun than any tour package you'd see today.
Medieval depilatories. Hey, who needs things like skin layers?
Last week: Drunken Pilgrims. This week: Drunken Georgians. This blog is getting more disreputable by the day.
The Order of the Good Death: How They Learned To Stop Worrying and Love the Grave.
Memo to Victorian-era photographers: You could shoot portraits of high-society Boston belles or you could create faux-Classical nudie shots. It just didn't pay to combine the two.
Have a good weekend, gang. The demon cats and I will see you on Monday.