Hello and welcome to my Victorian nightmare. I'm your host, Genevieve Mannion,

and I'm here to talk about mysterious deaths, morbid fascinations, disturbing stories, and otherwise spooky events from the Victorian era.

Because to me, there's just something especially intriguing,

creepy, and oddly comforting about horror and mayhem from the 19th century. So, listener discretion

is advised.

Hello, friends, and welcome to this my 73rd episode. I hope that you had a cozy week. I had my coven over four Swedish meatballs and early winter solstice festivities. I made a teeny, tiny little eulog out of a branch. I tied

it with like little pine needles and a little pine cone and berries and other yummy smelling things,

and you may not be aware, but a fun pagan tradition is to write some kind of misfortune that

happened over the past year and burn it with the

eulog to leave it in the past?

I wrote down all of the cigarettes that I have not smoked.

I quit a couple of years ago, and I have regretted every single one that I have not smoked.

If I die of something stupider than a smoking-related illness, I am going to be furious.

Okay, let us have a little haunted housekeeping before we get to the sheer madness and

corpse-related practical jokes of today's episode.

Thank you all so much for rating the show on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.

Thank you for your lovely, lovely comments. And thank you everyone who has subscribed to the podcast.

Thank you, Rebecca. Thank you Harry, Billy, Emma, Janella, Ashley, and Corinne. These are new members. You, guys, and

everyone who subscribes are the reason why I can continue to create this show. To listen ad-free

and to receive extra witchy and bloody, true, crimey content, either click the link in the show

description or go to myvictorynightmare.com to find out more

about the fan coven. Okay, guys, we are halfway through December. It has not killed us yet,

...