medicenpro, hate TV, love TV on the radio, hate live at Reading, love reading, hate thriller, love thrillers and horror movies, I am only a different way of thinking, innovating everything in my way... 17 from San Felipe del Progreso, in love with music
PRO
How to listen to Drake’s Take Care
- Step 1: Remove plastic wrap
- Step 2: Place directly into toilet
(via furiousseasons)
Graham Young was a smartly dressed and intelligent child. Born in September 1947 in Neasdon, Greater London, he was intrigued by black magic and poisons at a very young age.
He poisoned his step-mother over a long period of time with a lethal mixture of antimony and thallium. He also attempted to poison his father, sister and a friend. He was committed to Broadmoor secure psychiatric hospital and not released until February 1971.
He allegedly told a nurse when leaving Broadmoor that he intended to kill one person for every year he had been detained.
Not long after he got a job as a general assistant at a photographic laboratory in Bovingdon Hertfordshire. He was the tea boy as well as completing other general duties. He had only been working there a short while when there was a spate of strange sickness sweeping through the other workers. Nicknamed the “Bovingdon Bug” many fell ill, the storeroom manager Bob Egle eventually dying from the fatal dose of poison that Young had been slipping into the tea. Fred Biggs the distribution manager also died, but luckily three others who had been taken seriously ill, survived. Suspicion fell on Young, and after investigating his background, police moved in and arrested him on 21st November 1971.
Dubbed “The Teacup Poisoner,” he was a deranged mad scientiest and bloody gorgeous as well.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought —
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.
The Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
