Some historical romances are more devoted to accuracy than others, but nearly all of the best ones embrace the fantasy of the era, elevating it beyond the fact that people threw
chamber pots into the street or the skies were clogged with industrial smoke.
He wrote through the day and long into the night, pausing only to eat or to fling the contents of his brimming
chamber pot into the street below.
Not exact matches
Pellet cookers use a power - driven auger to feed compressed wood pellets from a hopper
into a burn
pot that produces heat (and smoke) inside the cooking
chamber.
Arsenal just escaped a tough game in a large
chamber pot and a cattle field for a pitch, short many players, finishing with 10 men and still pull out a draw going
into the 2nd leg and all I read is whining, crying, and complaining.
In that era he would have had a servant dealing with his
chamber pots — did that person get turned
into a
chamber pot, and if they did, has the Beast been sh*t ting in their mouth this whole time?