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BPAL Madness!
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A potpourri of scents and nonsense as the whim strikes!

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Doom, Doom, Doom!

We all have them, notes of doom. Maybe it's something you don't like, or maybe it's something that doesn't like you. I imagine as my BPAL inventory grows, this list will grow, too. Some of them make me sad, because I love the scent. It just does terrible things on my body. Some of them I just don't like, period, on or off me.   Black musk- Turns straight to baby powder and then play-doh, every. single. time.
Magnolia- Becomes a cloying mess of decaying, sickly sweet flowers.
Arabian Musk- Smells like ass on my skin. Literally.
Cherry- Turns plastic and gross.
Plum- Gets so cloying and sickly sweet it makes me nauseated.
Opium- Love the smell, but it gives me a headache from Hell.
Cinnamon- Love the smell, really do, but it gives me contact dermatitis.
  As an adjunct to notes of doom, these are the BPAL scents that haven't worked for me so far, some much worse than others.   The Chicken Legged Hut- just...NO.
Haunted- Baby powder, followed by play-doh, but SO lovely in the imp.
Odin- Baby powder and pencil shavings.
Black Rose- Baby powder and elegant rose.
Hell's Belle- Magnolia funeral flowers of death.
Black Dahlia- The same as Hells' Belle.
Drink Me- Plastic cherry ick that burned the back of my throat.
Bathsheba- Cloying sweetness that nauseated me.
Darkness- Headache from Hell.
Bordello- See Bathsheba.
ajansuz

ajansuz

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So I was on the way to Arkham...or how I became an addict in a minute or less.

My first order actually came from the Trading Post, two soaps and one wicked little claw polish. The first soap I tried was Shub Niggurath. I should back up a little bit. *beep*beep*beep* Hey, baby got back, a'ight?   I got addicted to introduced to H.P. Lovecraft at the tender age of 13 by a Louisiana History teacher who knew I was a little off even then, I guess. I was young enough that some of the stories scared the bejeebus out of me, which means I read them alone as often as I could. So I saw this soap named after an Old One, the Black Goat of the Woods, no less. I was enthralled intrigued and thought, why not?   Why not indeed? Soap is too common a term for something that created a bathing event, but if I were to call it fthgngth, you'd have no idea what I was talking about or maybe be inclined to hand me a tissue and say, "Gesundheit," which in certain circles has been known to open a gate or three, so let's keep it simple and call it soap. The color: rich, deep cinnamon brown marbled with lighter brown and coated with metallic gold dust all along the top. Gorgeous! These soaps themselves are works of art all their own, I tell you, and I never lie unless it will get me out of trouble.   The scent: well, I've seen it described as the Devil's ginger snaps and a pumpkin pie that has gone through Hell in the review section, and I'd have to agree with both and then some. It's not foodie. You'd be insane--yeah, we all know that's what the Old One's want--ever to eat anything that smelled like this. You'd still probably want to eat it anyway and be happy when your belly bloated to twice its normal size, a small price to pay for something so delicious.   It's soap. Don't eat it. Bathe with it. Luxuriate in it. Let it worship your skin with rich, silky lather. Let it leave behind its scent mark in every open pore. Go to bed and find yourself unable to sleep because of the energetic ginger goodness. Better yet, save the bath until you want to wake up. This soap means business. If goats smelled like this, nobody would have dogs. But if the Black Goat of the Woods smells like this, assume that you now understand why She is also called "the Goat with a Thousand Young". Ladies, be prepared to beat the men away with sticks, or the women if that's how you swing. Men, this goes for you, too. The scent is unisex and wonderful for shower sharing.   A final word. Beware. This soap will make you: late for work
late for bed
buy a full bottle of Shub Niggurath oil
susceptible to the darkest magics (maybe)
highly huggable
even more highly sniffable
beg for more, more, more!
  It's official. I'm a cultist of the goat, and I'm looking for converts. Any takers?
ajansuz

ajansuz

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Embalming Fluid...ah, memories of dear old Dad!

Dad is still alive, by the way, but he's indirectly the reason I decided to try this soap. He raised me on stories of his days as an ambulance driver and mortuary worker. Back in the day, the two were often one and the same. He wasn't the mortician; he was the mortician's assistant, sort of like the sorcerer's apprentice with a little less music and mopping. Well...there was lots of mopping, come to think of it.   The soap! Marbled blue, green, and purple, rather like the flesh of a corpse, it's prettier than it sounds. The scent is refreshing and thirst quenching, exactly as I imagine embalming fluid is not. The lemon, aloe, and green tea combine with a minty freshness. This soap is a lovely summer soap, but the scent doesn't linger beyond the actual shower. It's a little more vegetable soapy than the Shub Niggurath. Don't leave it wet, or it will go a little slimy, and we're back to the corpse theme.   I wonder if I should get a bar of this for Dad...
ajansuz

ajansuz

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Stuff and Nonsense!

I've been telling myself for the past month that it would be a good idea to start keeping track of scents I've tried, how they worked out for me, and any interesting things that happen as a result of sniffing or wearing. This seems like a perfectly logical place to keep it since I come here all the time anyway. In addition to a scent diary, I may post random nonsense, recipes, little stories, or anything that seems like a good idea at the time. (But probably isn't!) So sit back, have a whiff or two, throw back a bottle, and enjoy if you care to spend a little time with me.
ajansuz

ajansuz

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For The Good Claws

For the longest time, I wasn't much of a girly-girl. I played piano for many years which never gave me occasion to grow my nails out at all, and always having short nails made me not care about polish. Add the fact I was a spazz with a nail polish brush and always made a huge mess and that I am ridiculously prone to chipping it within less than a day, and it was a given I wouldn't bother with it much.   For the first time ever, I've started growing out my nails to a decent length. BPTP claw polishes can claim a lot of credit for that. I've decided to talk a little bit about all of the ones I have so far rather than doing separate entries since I don't have that many yet.   The first I bought was Blood Countess. I adore the color. It's a true red, a very deep, dark, dried blood red without either brown or purple in it. I use three layers over a base coat for the most even color, letting it dry between each layer, and top it with a top coat. Dry time is average. The polish is high gloss with a very professional looking finish. I had it on my hands and feet two weeks the first time I tried it, with no chipping or fading at all on the feet and very minimal chipping at the tips for the fingernails.   Second up were Maiden and Embalming Fluid, which layer with each other very well. The finished product looked like opals on my fingertips and toes. The only complaint I have with Maiden is that it seems a little more chip prone than Blood Countess, with or without Embalming Fluid. Embalming Fluid glows a bright, white-green in the dark. Just be careful and gentle when removing it. The glitter can rough up your nail surface and leave scratches.   Lastly has been Hell's Belle. The color is drop dead gorgeous, a metallic pink with a gold sheen and the tendency to look a little bit lilac in bright sun. However, I think I got a bottle that overheated in the mail or something. The cap was gunked on, and the polish seems unusually thick. I've had to shake it between every nail and wasn't able to get a perfectly smooth, even coat. It also took three hours to dry fully. I like the color enough to try this again in cold weather, and since the other colors have been so high quality, I can't help but think this was probably a fluke. On the plus side, I had it on two weeks before it started to chip, a record for me on my hands!   BPTP an BPAL, you're turning me from my tomboy ways, slowly but surely. All I need now is a fan and a fainting couch.
ajansuz

ajansuz

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