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  Bast, Ubasti, Ailuros, Ba-en-Aset. Represented as both a domestic cat and a fierce lioness, she truly evidences traits of both. She is the Mother of All Cats, Goddess of Sensuality, Fertility, and a guardian and protector of women. She is also one of the Eyes of Ra, and in that aspect is an Avenging Goddess, seeking retribution and punishing enemies of her people.
  
  Luxuriant amber, warm Egyptian musk, fierce saffron and soft myrrh, almond, cardamom and golden lotus.

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  Bilquis Perfume Oil

  The Queen of Sheba, half-demon, they said, on her father’s side, witch woman, wise woman, and queen, who ruled Sheba when Sheba was the richest land there ever was, when its spices and its gems and scented woods were taken by boat and camel-back to the corners of the earth, who was worshipped even when she was alive, worshipped as a living goddess by the wisest of kings, stands on the sidewalk of Sunset Boulevard at 2:00 A.M. staring blankly out at traffic like a slutty plastic bride on a black-and-neon wedding cake. She stands as if she owns the sidewalk and the night that surrounds her.

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  Bastet

  Bast, Ubasti, Ailuros, Ba-en-Aset. Represented as both a domestic cat and a fierce lioness, she truly evidences traits of both. She is the Mother of All Cats, Goddess of Sensuality, Fertility, and a guardian and protector of women. She is also one of the Eyes of Ra, and in that aspect is an Avenging Goddess, seeking retribution and punishing enemies of her people.

  Luxuriant amber, warm Egyptian musk, fierce saffron and soft myrrh, almond, cardamom and golden lotus.

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  Row Bullies Row Perfume Oil

  The boardinghouse masters came aboard in a trice
  A shouting and a promising all that was nice
  Til one old crib took a liking to me
  Says he you’re a fool, lad, to follow the sea

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  Says he there’s a job as is waiting for you
  With lashings of liquor and beggar-all to do
  Says he what you say lad, will you? – or two?
  Says I you old bastard, I’m damned if I do

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  But the best of intentions they never goes far
  After thirty two days at the door of the bar
  I tossed off me liquor and what do you think
  That rotten old bastard had doctored me drink

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  Next I remember I woke in the morn
  On a the three skysail yarder bound south round Cape Horn
  With an old set of oilskins and two pair of socks
  And an IOU nailed to the lid of my box

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  Honeyed rum, a whiff of almond, and a hint of something suspiciously soporific.

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