Cannibalistic Sheep And Mutilated Athletes. Part Two.

Cannibalistic Sheep And Mutilated Athletes. Part Two.

Last time on ‘Cannibalistic Sheep’…(wibbly wobbly special effects, as we recount the end of part one) After about 30 minutes, the sheep became hungry but still they refused to jump. After an hour, they started to grow restless. After an hour and a half, they begun to turn feral. Overcome with extreme hunger and feeling utterly famished, they soon turned to cannibalism, gnawing nauseatingly away at each others sheep parts until there was nothing left but a sea of red, as entrails and intestines were strewn across my imagined field.Things weren’t looking to good.

"Whose hidden the sodding mint sauce?"

“Whose hidden the sodding mint sauce?”

What I  really needed were  people. People who made a  living out of  jumping and leaping. People for whom jumping and leaping was their livelihood. For whom jumping and leaping was their life’s blood. Flicking through the index of mind, I found just what I was looking for.

Up stepped my finely tuned athletes, ready to spring into action at a moments notice and boy, did they spring. My beautiful athletes leaped and twirled. Frolicked and vaulted, It was a dazzling display. I was awed by their by swiftness, amazed at their agility, floored by such grace and in lustful rapture at the very sight of their tightly fitted spandex shorts. They were truly magnificent.

Damn! If he's not careful, he's gonna have someone's eye out with that thing!

Damn! If he’s not careful, he’s gonna have someone’s eye out with that thing!

 After a thousand leaps, they were still going strong. At three thousand leaps, they started bounding over the hurdle in a variety of moves. Tail spins, back flips and somersaults ensued, as did a cornucopia of twists and turns. But this spectacular array of  gymnastic skill was not in any way helping me get anywhere nearer to sleep, not by a long shot. After five thousand leaps, I begun to get slightly pissed, yet still they wouldn’t stop.

I opened my eyes to clear my head and still I could see them sprinting and flying through the air like majestic birds. After seven thousand leaps, I decided to take action. If they weren’t going to stop, then I would have to make them stop…and so I knee-capped them.  I really didn’t see what else I could have done.

And knee capping would definitely be one of those instances.

And knee capping would definitely be one of those instances.

I then got up to check on Spawn, while visions of disabled athletes, writhing and crawling upon the ground, danced in my head. Their shrill cries of  pain, which cascaded from tortured twisted lips as they clutched tightly to their blood shattered knees, followed me as I entered his room. Spawn was fast asleep. He looked almost angelic half buried beneath the covers and snoring lightly. All day he had been running around, yowling and screeching like a wild child abandoned and raised by wolves and then re-introduced, failingly back into society. And now here he was, safe and snug and looking like the most beautiful of  heavenly cherubs.

I wanted to bludgeon him to death with a baseball bat, jealous at his ability to fall asleep as soon as his massive shaped head hit the pillow. But alas, no such implement existed within my household.

Collapsing onto my bed, I was sure that the mattress was much lumpier than usual.

Collapsing onto my bed, I was sure that the mattress was much lumpier than usual.

I shuffled back to bed, unable to even lift my weary feet. My face felt like it was melting, my eyeballs slowly streaming down my cheeks. My body felt heavy as I collapsed ungraciously onto the bed. Even death was beginning to look like a relief. As Dawn approached, I told her to get out of my bedroom and she left wearily. The morning sun now shone it’s light through my darken window and my eyelids began to feel as though they had been weighted down with barbells. Eventually and finally, I started to drift off  into sleep…

Until I was awaken by the sounds of chirping birds…chirping… chirpily.

♪ And now, the end is near and so I face, the final curtain ♫

♪ And noooow, the end is neaaaar and so I face, the final curtain ♫

 They didn’t sound like a dawn chorus, more like a bunch of football hooligans that had decided to take up residence upon my window sill. “Wake up, waaaake up, it’s a great big beautiful day,” they seem to chirp in harmony. With my eyes still closed, I imagined holding a gun, a big bloody sawn off shotgun. And there I stood, dream Lily, blasting away with glee and relish whilst feathered wings and entrails scattered everywhere. I soon fell asleep with the glorious mental image that, outside my imaginary window was a mountain of imaginary bird corpses, blasted to smithereens and littering the imaginary pavement outside. A slight smile played across my lips and I was gone.

I had finally arrived at the ‘Land of Nod.”

~Lily

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22 thoughts on “Cannibalistic Sheep And Mutilated Athletes. Part Two.

  1. did you write something? Sorry I fell asleep….I always find sleeping is so over rated – especially when you have had no sleep for 3 days and you go through the seven dwarves of emotion – happy, dopey, grumpy, weepy, dopey jnr, psychotic, lunatic asylum patient. Ahhh what a joy to be around for others…

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  2. That bloke in the spandex looks a bit deformed to me. I always found a pair of socks stuffed down my trousers perfectly adequate. When we were surfing back in the day my mate Norman would take an hour or so each day to stroll down the beach looking for young ladies with a suitably shaped stone stuffed down his speedos. It never worked for him though. I lost count of the number of times I told him it would be better stuffed down the front of his trunks. I am so glad to read that you finally fell asleep. I must say that I’ve always fancied the crack of dawn.

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    • Does he? Hmmm, let me go back and have a closer look. *6 hours later…*
      No, it…I mean he looks fine to me.

      Haha! Norm is a Simon Pegg movie waiting to happen! As for the crack of Dawn, I keep telling her to put it away, and yet every morning there she is, displaying herself through my window. I may need to get a restraining order

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  3. Your two-part tale of woe about insomnia totally cracked me up. Sorry to laugh at your discomfort, but dammit, you’re funny! Nothing funny about insomnia, though, not that I’ve ever had a problem with it. Sleep deprivation, yeah, but once I hit the sack, sleep usually comes fairly soon. And lasts until our cats decide to climb all over me to check me out… licking, kneading, purring in my ear, chewing on my hair, etc. Not that I should complain. Some people pay big bucks to get cat scans, and I get them every night for free!

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    • Susan, I’ve learned to take it in my stride. I still remember the tiredness of having a new born and not being able to sleep. It was the type of tiredness that leaves you numb from the neck down and pleading for death to “take me now!” In comparison, my insomnia is like a walk in a pine scented forest.

      I remember being woken up with licking, kneading, purring and a chew of the hair…until I told Spawn to cut it out.

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  4. Finely tuned athletes, oh my, a definite source of lustful rapture! Notice I didn’t say a source of sleep, just lust LOL! In pursuit of sleep, they’re no better than sheep! Lily, I know what it feels like to be awake all night, finally drift off into dreamland in the wee hours only to be rudely awakened by the way too cheery sound of birds. That chirpy bird singing Sinatra’s “My Way” will just have to go! Blast them and off to sleep indeed. Glad you finally got some rest. Enjoyed your two-part post, very funny, and like you (and Donna) I can relate to the perils of insomnia!

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    • Did you know that Winston Churchill, Marilyn Monroe, Benjamin Franklin, Hendrix and Van Gogh among others, were all insomniacs? So it’s looks like we’re in good company. They do say that creative people tend to think differently due to the lack of sleep, which would make SO much sense.
      As for those finely tuned athletes, well if you can’t sleep, might as well have something nice to focus on.
      I swear that every single bird in London sits right outside my window come 4 am, or at least that’s what it sounds like. Maybe you Donna and I can start a ‘women on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to sleep deprivation, group.’ Although I think it might need a catchier tile.
      Thanks Madilyn. 🙂

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  5. Sorry I am late Miss Lily I was abducted by aliens and told I had to jump over a fence over and over again while wearing some ludicrously coloured tightly fitting spandex shorts. Anyway I finally escaped when they all fell asleep. . . . . I think they were exhausted from laughing. . . . Bloody Aliens.

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    • Not to worry Mr Z. I too am late in making my blogging rounds.
      Those damned aliens! Will they stop at nothing in their pursuit to make mankind their playthings? I’m pretty sure that the dastardly fiends have infiltrated the Eurovision Song Contest, judging by the looks of some of the entrants, so I shall be watching closely. I’m so glad that you were able to escape their evil games, though I’m not quite sure you’ll be able to escape the confines of those tight fitting spandex.

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  6. My grandmother was known to get up in the middle of the night, when unable to sleep, and bake a pie. That is just a level of acceptance to not finding slumber that I have not found.

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    • My mum is the same. She’ll even start on the day’s main meal, whereas I lie there and think about cleaning/cooking/baking etc. The thought of all that activity, leaves me so exhausted, that by the time morning arrives, I’m too tired to do them in ‘real time.’

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