Butter Beer for Adults! ;)
What you need:
- 8 ounces Butterscotch Schnapps
- 2 liter Cream Soda
- 1 small container Marshmallow Creme.
How to make it:
In a small bowl, combine 4 tablespoons of marshmallow creme and one tablespoon of butterscotch schnapps. Microwave for 30 seconds, then stir together and set aside. Pour 8 ounces of schnapps in the bottom of a pitcher, then fill the rest up with cream soda and stir gently to mix together. Pour marshmallow mixture on top. As you pour the butter beer into drinking glasses, the marshmallow will aerate, creating a creamy foam on top of the drink.
It is women who love horror. Gloat over it. Feed on it. Are nourished by it. Shudder and cling and cry out-and come back for more.
“
| — | Bela Lugosi (via gothiccharmschool) |
Beware the autumn people.
For some, autumn comes early, stays late, through life, where October follows September and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ’s birth there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring or revivifying summer.
For these beings, fall is the only normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond.
Where do they come from? The dust.
Where do they go? The grave.
Does blood stir their veins? No, the night wind.
What ticks in their head? The worm.
What speaks through their mouth? The toad.
What sees from their eye? The snake.
What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars.
They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles—breaks.
Such are the autumn people.
For some, autumn comes early, stays late, through life, where October follows September and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ’s birth there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring or revivifying summer.
For these beings, fall is the only normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond.
Where do they come from? The dust.
Where do they go? The grave.
Does blood stir their veins? No, the night wind.
What ticks in their head? The worm.
What speaks through their mouth? The toad.
What sees from their eye? The snake.
What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars.
They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles—breaks.
Such are the autumn people.
“
| — | Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962)e (via amber-and-ice) |
Today’s less family friendly viewing for me! Thank goodness for naptime and early bed time! I’m watching them in reverse order so I can save the best for last.



