People have been fingering my box again and I’m not at all happy. The other day after poking around in my box for 5 minutes, Mr Smith from next door left it wide open. Why anything could have found it’s way inside and I’m fed up with finding strange objects crammed inside my box region. Possums, birds, assorted woodland creatures and Mr Jameson from two doors down, they’ve all been inside my box at some time or another. Seriously folks, can’t a woman just have her box out and not have people playing in it? Anyway, let’s see what treats we have inside my musical box this week.
This first album comes from the very sinister duo, Henry and Hazel. Here the gruesome twosome, sing brazenly and unashamedly about their dastardly deed of hunting, skinning and then finally donning the flesh of their male victims as some sort of hideous masking ritual, hence the title ‘Looking Through His Eyes.’ Just look at the titles of some of these songs.
‘Looking Through His eyes’
‘You Can experience’ (The true agony of death)
‘What am I doing In This Place?’ (Called Hell)
‘The Blood Will Never Lose It’s Power’ (That’s the beauty of semi-‘skinned’)
Er…apologies. The Slaughter’s lawyers have informed me that they were in fact, singing about looking through the eyes of their beloved Saviour and seeing the world as he views it. It has also been pointed out to me that Slaughter, is indeed their surname and not a verb for any criminal wrong-doings that may, or may not have occured. Again, my apologies. I always get Mormons and mass murderers mixed up.
And now with that confusion firmly out of the way, we have yet another call and response album. Here are the ‘Faith Tones’ putting in a request to the good Lord.
And here we have God’s representative on Earth, the Rapping Reverend Dr.C. Dexter Wise III, declining that request.
Moving on, the next album in my collection is…
Good grief Mrs Mills, must we go through this every time I do an album review? Please kindly refer to the Cease and Desist notices that my lawyers have sent you. I do NOT want to go to any off your parties. Now let that be the end of the matter. And that thing you’re doing with the Penguins? Slightly disturbing. Stop it!
As I was saying, the next album comes from…
What the bloody hell is that?! KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!
OH MY LORD! THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!!
Okay, just let me take a few moments to compose myself before we move on to the next album, which is by…
Mrs Mills, this is no longer amusing. Please refrain from showing me phallic shaped balloons and party hats in the hopes that I will be enticed to one of your many parties. I shan’t. What? They’re not balloons? But what else could you have used that is made of latex and easy to blow up? MRS MILLS!!
Now in the olden days of Troglodytes and the geologic period of the Jurassic era, Saveta Jovanovic would have been considered an attractive woman. Nowadays, Saveta is mainly known for her charitable works and last winter, Ms Jovanovic paid a visit to many of the poorer regions in Yugoslavia in order to donate several blankets, coats, sweaters, and thermal underwear that she had personally knitted from the shavings of her leg hair. The Balaclavas made from her lady garden tresses, haven’t fared so well . But no matter. Kudos to you Ms Jovanovich. Without women like you, the world would be a much colder, albeit less itchier and scratchier place.
Lastly, we have the wonderful and iconic…
Right, that’s it. I’m done!
So join me next month…
No, not you Mrs Mills, when the masses get to ogle the inside of my box once again.
~Lily
The Incoherent Ramblings Of A Moose 
You had me at the title so to speak. I’m sure that having people leaving all manner of things secreted in your box is not a pleasant experience.
Excuse my language but fuck me there were some ugly bastards in that selection. I feel quite ill. I would quite like to have had a rummage around in your box girl but no longer. You really do need to give your box a thorough seeing to.
I will now to go to sleepies with a smile on my face. Cheers girl.
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Did your mother never tell you that if you keep fiddling with it, it will break off?
I’m worried that all of this opening of your box will wear the lid out and then, on cold wet winter nights like what we are having now, it may start to grow . It could be a very embarrassing conversation when the vicar pops round for high tea and a sticky bun, when he gets up close to your wet box but before before he starts fiddling with the damp flaps he licks the cream from his fingers.
So the next time somebody asks to have good rummage make sure they use protection.
oof!
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I missed a word in that last comment.
I was trying to type with one of those rubber pen things and I guess I should really keep a tighter grip on my prong when thinking about your box.
Sorry about that Lily.
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Now now Mr H, a good man never blames his tool…sorry, I meant tools.
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Mr H. my mother was a staunch believer in keeping your box covered and would often smack me on the hand if I played in it too much. Now my box is a bit battered and withered because it’s been open and shut so many times over the years.
The only time the Vicar comes round, is to perform his yearly exorcism on Spawn. But he knows that when it comes to tea and a sticky bun, to wipe the cream off his fingers before he comes anywhere near my box.
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Looking at the heads of hair in this list which must have lives of their own, and probably need the services of a lawnmower rather than a hairdresser, I would guess that their boxes would need more than a light tickle with the scissors too. Hedge trimmer maybe.
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Oh Kimberley, there is a lot worse to come. There are bouffants that look like they could hide a small country, or at least, a small child. These people alone are responsible for global, warming, what with the amount of lacquer and scaffolding it must take to keep it’s shape.
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Miss Lily you are a one, and also appear to be on a one man (sorry woman) mission to revitalize the flagging fortunes of Mrs Mills. I did see her a few times on the TV and the one thing I remember, something that is also true of your selection of her work is she is always smiling (was always smiling). . . . . Actually it is possible she still is somewhere looking down and pondering your post in a slightly confused way and smiling even as I type, I would not put it past her. I mean I dont want to worry you but it is possible that those creaking floorboards, that distant chirpy honky tonk piano (apparently honky tonk is a spelling mistake, Miss Mills has been gone a long time) . . . OK back to the point, yes that distant chirpy piano the faint smell of Palmolive Soap and hairspray.
All I can say is keep that all upright piano locked up and dont open the bedroom door if you hear a group of elderly old ladies doing the conga along the landing after midnight, old piano players never die they join the legions of the undead musicians union.
My advice is if you do hear the legions of the undead musicians union then hum some Chas and Dave and eat a few cockles you might just get away with it, Nothing like a bit of nostalgia to calm the minds of an ageing cockney undead musician. . . .
Well I bet you were not expecting that . . . . . The things a chap has to do to avoid slipping into a large Box
.
.
DAMN
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OOoooo cool pic at the top by the way
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Thanks Mr Z. It’s rather nice isn’t it. The Lil man chose the colour scheme to go with it too.
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Wow Mr Z, that was all quite depressing and just a tad scary. The Lil man and I were commenting on Mrs Mills ever present radiant smile and how she could possibly afford to hold all those parties on a pension. Why was this woman never a gazillionaire? She released about a thousand albums and that was in one week alone! Anyway, I better…wait…what’s that? I thought I heard a sound…is that the creaking of the floorboards, even though I’ve got thick carpet laid down? And I think…I think that may be the distant chirpy sounds of a honky tonk piano. And where the hell did the smell of Palmolive come from??
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You have some very strange things in your box, my dear, fingers seem to be the most normal of the lot!
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I know Frank. I’ve just got to be more careful of who or what I let fiddle about inside it. Mother would not approve.
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Okay first of all.. What the fuck is up with Saveta’s eye? Second. I’m sure if you left your box in the care of ‘The Beastly Bear’ he’d stuff it so full there’d be no room for woodland creatures, unless of course you fancy a gerbil or two knocking on your back door.. Just sayin’.. – And now I realize how incredibly twisted I am and how YOU sister of satan bring out that twistedness! Hahahahaha!
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Maybe Saveta got a bit of loose hair in it. Loose hair in your eye stings. It’s like when you’re with a guy and he shoots se…er…I think I better stop there…ahem…
Okay, you need to send me the location of this Beastly Bear. Does he have a blog? I’m eager to know this man who sounds more twisted then both you and I. And don’t blame me for your twisted nature. You needed no help in bringing that out. 😉
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Lily, I love the new art at the top of the page!
Well, I hate it too when people finger my box, unless invited of course! 🙂 Looking into your musical box…Henry and Hazel don’t look like innocents to me! I wouldn’t want to be near them if they’ve got a butcher knife nearby (it could be hiding in Hazel’s hair, yikes!). When I saw the Faith Tones, first thing that came to mind was Monty Python wanna-bes in drag LOL! The Rappin’ “ain’t into that” Reverend is talking directly to Henry and Hazel! Mrs. Mills partying with flippin’ penguins now? And then phallic shaped balloons (or whatever!) and possessed-looking people in party hats, scary!! Look at the blonde on that last album, she’s about to fall over on top of the way too jolly Mrs. Mills having yet another party. Lily, fun post!!
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Isn’t the artwork fantastic! It’s by an artist called Annie Haywood and the moment I saw it, I knew that it was my new header.
People are so rude nowadays. They never wait until I invite them to poke around my box. They just open it and take what they want.
Despite what their lawyers say, there are definitely some skinless bodies hidden inside the wall cavity of their basement. Or maybe buried in Hazel’s bouffant. Spawn took one look at the Faith Tones and exclaimed, “what the hell is wrong with them?” As for the rapping reverend, he needs to shorten his name. That alone took up a paragraph!
Hahahaha! I didn’t notice the blonde. Oh my lord, the woman is either piss drunk or as high as a kite. What the hell kind of parties is Mrs Mills throwing?
Thanks Madilyn. 🙂
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Isn’t the artwork fantastic! It’s by an artist called Annie Haywood and the moment I saw it, I knew that it was my new header.
People are so rude nowadays. They never wait until I invite them to poke around my box. They just open it and take what they want.
Despite what their lawyers say, there are definitely some skinless bodies hidden inside the wall cavity of their basement. Or maybe buried in Hazel’s bouffant. Spawn took one look at the Faith Tones and exclaimed, “what the hell is wrong with them?” As for the rapping reverend, he needs to shorten his name. That alone took up a paragraph!
Hahahaha! I didn’t notice the blonde. Oh my lord, the woman is either piss drunk or as high as a kite. What the hell kind of parties is Mrs Mills throwing?
Thanks Madilyn. 🙂
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Good grief Mrs Mills – I cringe with the memories – My Dad had some of those albums, in with the Manta-bloody-vani and Harry Secombe… however some Inkspots, Muddy Waters and Rossetta Tharpe in his 78 collection redeemed him. I wish those hadn’t been stupidly thrown away in days when we thought we needed to move forward
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Mrs Mills certainly did get around. I had no idea just how popular she was back in the day, until I came across her albums. She released enough vinyl to keep the record pressing industry going for years!
Luckily, I nabbed my folk’s golden oldies before they threw them out. I think that I would still be weeping today if I hadn’t have grabbed those old blues, jazz and ska records. And now that record players are back in vogue, I get to listen to those classics all over again…with added crackles.
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Happy New Year, girl! (to Spawn, too…)
Yipes, some of the pictures on those albums are so scary, they make me feel pretty damned good about myself. At least, I don’t look like a man in drag, or like I’m wearing a wacko wig, or have leg hair long enough to braid. (Now the stuff on my chin may be another matter…)
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To you as well Susan!
I hear ya. It’s like a serial killer’s convention!
I like to call the stuff on my chin, ‘light fuzz,’ although Spawn is convinced that I can braid them into a Viking plait. If my tweezers ever become blunt, I shall weep before throwing myself off the nearest cliff…which is quite far away, so I may just jump off a small hilltop instead.
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Happy, Happy, New Year!
And that is why you close your box, Lily! Things from the 70’s find their way in if you don’t. At the very least you want things from the 80s getting in there. Much healthier.
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Now Elsie, you and I both know what the 80s were like. That I wouldn’t want anything that’s 80s going in my box. 😉
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Wow! Miss Mills sure likes to party. I sensed a bit of a theme in her albums.
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It’s the types of party that she’s throwing, that I’m more concerned about. I don’t know 18 year olds who party THAT much.
Good to see ya Brett. 🙂
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So, does this mean you’ll review our new album?,
“The Boomer Brothers Party with Mrs. Mills”
We like to think of it as music to finger your box by.
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‘Music to finger your box by.’ Damn! I wish I’d thought of that title!
I will gladly review your album. Just send a picture of the Boomer Brothers partying with Mrs Mills and I’ll…on second thoughts, I’m not quite sure I want to know what that looks like…
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Yes, that mental image might cause damage to the brain cells.
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I laughed way too hard at the title to this post…..
I want all of these albums immediately.
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I laughed way too hard when I wrote it. You know when your brain says, “nah-uh, don’t do it” and you’re like, “heehee, I wrote finger my box,” yeah, I’m that girl.
Just send a cheque for ONE MILLION DOLLARS and all those albums can be yours!
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