While reading The Lost King of France by Deborah Cadbury, about the final days of Louis XVII. It’s a pretty horrifying story, since he was only eight when his parents were decapi-ma-tated and all, and also because he was kept prisoner for years and abused by his “tutors,” who thought it was really cute to expose a kid to syphilitic prostitutes and the such. Awesome. Anyway, in the midst of clucking angrily over his treatment, I noticed the following passage:
“Surrounded by the phantoms of his previous existence, in a room that held such frightening memories for him, he was confined to a space of about thirteen by eleven feet.”
My apartment has similar dimensions, I’d like to point out. Although I have running water. And since I recently had my yearly checkup and all, I can pretty much promise you that I am 100% syphilis-free.
2 thoughts on “Hmm”
i’d start taking some extra penicillen (sp?) just in case. you don’t want to go crazy like George III and Al Capone. plus, chicks that are “clap” free are much more attractive.
But! Did Louie have to tolerate la cucaracha más grande del mundo?