The Tired Hedonists Club

Oh, the Tired Hedonists of course. It is a club to which I belong. We are supposed to wear faded roses in our buttonholes when we meet, and to have a sort of cult for Domitian. I am afraid you are not eligible. You are too fond of simple pleasures. –Vivian in Oscar Wilde’s The Decay of Lying

Complex pleasures indeed. A seductive blend of various exotic black peppers tangles up with narcotic lily of the valley, boozy French cognac, Japanese Ho-sho, red musk, black musk, and the musk that dares not speak its name.