Death, disease, tumors, and pustules peppered my family’s dinner conversation as I grew up.
“Pass the salt,” my parents said, as well as: “you wouldn’t believe what I found inside a body today.”
And also: “honey, never go into medicine.”
I only dabble in the macabre on weekends.
My latest morbid jaunt was the National Museum of Health and Medicine in Maryland.
The museum was chock-full of samples, specimens, illustrations, replicas, prototypes, and tools. The most beautiful and horrible things hopscotched across the line between medicine and torture.
Life-sized dolls that look like diseased humans.
Flash cards of skin lesions.
Orderly rows of scissors, saws, syringes, and knives.
Don’t forget tidy kits for exsanguination.
I didn’t become a doctor, but I have a stomach of steel.
Bring on the corpses.
^ I love this fun vs effort chart.
Remember your neon Trapper Keepers? Turns out working for Lisa Frank wasn’t all glitter and unicorns. This article is unsettling.
DIY Christmas tutorials: This altered doll head phrenology ornament and easy star gift wrap are both awesome.
Oopsy-daisy: Turns out multi-vitamins and antibacterial hand soap aren’t helping us out.
No babies? No problem. My friend posted this article for me. It’s very nice to read such sentiments. A good night’s sleep is also positive reinforcement for my life choices.
Freebies: The British Library has uploaded over a million public domain images. Thanks!
Lord of the Rings: This “Legolas, What Are You Doing?” blog is pretty funny. Orlando Bloom’s face is classic.
Is it time to rename Uranus? I vote “no,” obviously.
Last minute gift idea: Horror movie monster pinup calendar. You’re welcome, Internet.