Hell Hath No Chocolate For A Woman Scorned.

As many of you do not know, my older brother is a pastor (yes, we do come from the same mother) and as such, feels it is his duty to point out the many many errors of my ways. And because my brother is a good man, (the only wicked thing about him is his sense of humour)I decided a few years ago to accept my his invitation to attend a church service…and no, I did not spontaneously combust into flames on coming into contact with consecrated ground.
Now this planned visit wasn’t to do with any cathartic episodes on my part. There were no sudden crisis of faith, nor was there a sense of wanting to quell the iniquitous tide of the past. No, this was simply to do with something that my older brother had said during a recent conversation. A conversation in which he detailed the very likelihood of my being bound for the nether world. It was a conversation so horrifying, that it had me thinking about the direction that I had been taking in life and the changes that I needed to make in order to rectify my indiscretions… before it became to late…

The Conversation…

jesus

“Lily, as your brother, I’m only telling you this because I love you. But if you carry on the way that you’ve been going and don’t seek to change your wicked and quite frankly, hedonistic ways, then at the dawning of the new millennium when the second coming is reaped upon us, you shall  forever be cast into the fiery flames of hell.”

jessica

“Meh, at least It’ll be warm.”

jesus

“I’m serious. In fact I think that Satan may have a special place reserved just for you because of the very nature of  your sins.”

jessica

“Yaay! Free accommodation!”

jesus

“Laugh all you want lil sis but when the day of judgement comes upon you, your soul will be lost forever.”

jessica

“Along with my house keys, mobile phone, child, virginity, faith in humanity. Jesus, no blasphemy intended, I’m always loosing things.”

My brother then paused, no doubt taking in the aura of blackness that surrounded the darkness of my soul and realising that he was getting nowhere in his approach, decided to use a different tactic. A tactic that would soon have me quaking in fear and wishing desperately to see the light.

jesus

“Lily, you do know that there is no chocolate in hell don’t you?”

jessica

“WHAT THE FUCK?? SHUT UP!!”

jesus

“Really? You kiss our mother with that mouth?! Seriously Lily,  imagine an eternity without chocolate. Go on, try to imagine it.”

At this point, I begun to imagine thus but I could not. The thought seemed too absurd and too abhorrent to even contemplate. Sweat beaded my brow and my breath grew shallow. My head felt heavy with the burden of such cognition and soon my legs, which had been trembling slightly, gave way from beneath me. As my brother reached out to support my frail frame, I  gripped him tightly in my despair and openly wept at the hopelessness of spending such perpetuity. Without chocolate, it would be an horrendous and futile existence. An infinity devoid of milky goodness and arteries that hardened at the unwrapping of a Snickers duo. This was not the kind of immortality that I had in mind.

jesus

“Can you imagine it Lil? No assortment of mini chocolate selections, no peanut M&Ms or Mars duo and definitely and most certainly,  no Cadbury’s milk chocolate.”

By now I was in utter disbelief. I could not bear to hear such harsh words, words that seem to flow with ease from his cruel twisted lips. And so I let fly in a fit of rage at this apparent falsehood

jessica

“YOU LIE! You’re suppose to be a man of god, yet here you stand before me sprouting words of pure wickedness!”  I inhaled deeply as I sought to calm myself but the overwhelming tide of panic threatened to engulf me, as tears clouded my vision. “Like none at all?”  I was now sobbing uncontrollably. “Not even those kinder buenos with the cream and the wafer biscuit? I mean that stuff is revolting, truly disgusting. I mean if we’re talking about things that are truly evil, then surely those can only be the work of  Beelzebub himself?”

jesus

“Nope.”

jessica

“You are shitting me?? But chocolate makes up part of my staple diet.”

jesus

“Lily, chocolate IS your staple diet, and there are sewers cleaner then your mouth. Stop swearing. I’m sorry sis but that’s the truth, there’s no chocolate in hell. Only those who are pure of heart and clean of mind get to receive the heavenly bounty that is confectionery…oh and also those who still have a soul, the soulless can’t eat chocolate…it gives them cramps.”

jessica

“But doesn’t chocolate come under the remit of sin? After all it encourages gluttony, sloth, greed and wrath, especially when some twat tries to steal my Cluster bar…hey, is aggravated assault one of the deadly sins? Cos last time that Sandra tried to pinch my Whole Nut, I almost punched her in the boob.”

jesus

jessica

“I didn’t though. Oh how I’ve missed Sandra over the years. No matter how carefully I aim the car, the bitch still manages to jump the way.”

jesus

jessica

“What?? It was a WHOLE NUT!”

jesus

“And this is EXACTLY why you are going to hell! Seriously, there are truckers who are embarrassed by your foul mouth. Look sis, you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that Satan is too cheap to spring for a packet of Malteser and a few Penguin Bars…though I do believe that he does have Brussels sprouts in hell…and in abundance.”

jessica

“SACRILEGE!! WHY ON EARTH WOULD SOMEONE UNLEASH SUCH HORROR UPON THE WORLD? IS THERE NOT ENOUGH SUFFERING AS IT IS? WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN? FOR THE LOVE OF MANKIND, WON’T SOMEBODY THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN??”

jesus

“Yep, you’re definitely burning in the fires of Hades. (Sighs heavily) But you’re right, who would unleash such horror upon the world? Satan that’s who. Remember, this is the being responsible for wars, famine, Paris Hilton and Star Wars The Phantom Menace. Why does he do it? Because he is evil that’s why. So, are you going to come to church with me on Sunday then?”

jessica

“Meh, might as well. There’s nothing good on TV on a Sundays anyway. Will there be chocolate?”

jesus

 “WE’RE GOING TO THE HOUSE OF GOD, NOT WILLY WONKA’S SODDING CHOCOLATE FACTORY!”

jessica

“Whoa! Whatever happened to patience being a virtue? By the way bro, we might have a slight incy wincy, teenie weenie bit of a problem.”

jesus

“Oh good lord, please take her now! What is it Lil?”

jessica

“Erm, is there really any truth in the fact that those who are  cursed by evil, will combust spontaneously on coming into contact with anything built on consecrated grounds?”

jesus

“Er…why do you ask?”

1f2f1-evil

“Yo.”

~Lily

 

 

Come And Look At My Box.

Folks, I must humbly apologise to you all. For not only have I been consumed with the challenge of murdering the English language throughout the month of April, but I have been remiss in my duty of not putting my box out there for public display. Now those of you who are no stranger to Incoherent Ramblings, know all too well that I like to open up my box and exhibit it at every opportunity.

As a youngster, my mother would dismay at the fact that I was always fingering my box. But what was the point of having such a thing if one could not derive pleasure from it? Now I am much older, I welcome anyone who wishes to do so, to take a peek inside my box and to finger (very carefully) it’s goods.
So, what do I have inside my music box for you all today then?

First in our pile of musical goodies, is Fingerless Fiddler Roy Thackerson.

lps-from-home-043-noblock2

Reworking such classics as the Beatles’ I Wanna Hold Your Hand (but my stumps won’t let me), T’pau’s  China In Your Hands (keeps slipping to the floor) and the children’s favourite Tommy Thumb Where Are You? I’m sure that you’ll all agree that this album is finger lickin’ good.

luv jones

Here we have the love doctor himself, Dr D with his collection of ‘Luv Songs’ from the album Put Out The Fires Of Desires. No problem Dr D. Not only have I put out the flames of desire after looking at your picture, but I have also smothered it, bashed in it’s head with a blunt implement, re-set it on fire just so that I could smother it again, cussed it’s mother and then buried it in the back garden…oh no wait…that was my ex…

Moving on swiftly, the next album is a testimony to what happens if you don’t stay in school and study. Wendell Clarke had high ambitions of being a top Gynaecologist, but his partying ways and sex addiction, soon led to his downfall. Now instead of studying the flowery essence of the female garden, Wendell has a new identity and now studies an altogether more fragrant part of the body as charted in this autobiographical album.

poohman

album-2 (2)

Mr Del Ray, I don’t think any of us needs reminding of the sounds of a man alone…

Next up in my box of musical delights, comes the blessed tones of Orvel and Orvella as they implore the Lord to lay his healing hands upon them.

Worst-Album-Covers-Orvella

lord

Also clamouring for the hands of our Saviour, the Simmons family boast about their godly encounter with the beautifully inspired album The Touch Of God.

the simmons

lord2

And here’s little Greg Kendrick with his version of events.

greg

lord3

Last and by no means least, this heartbreaking album from the Hanleys was composed as a plea to their missing daughter Ally Louia who sadly went missing some months previously. Soon after the release of this album, Ally Louia’s decomposed body was found inside Mrs Hanley’s bouffant, along with a circus midget, a Boeing 747, an assortment of woodland creatures and the lost city of Aztian.

thehanleys

And that sadly concludes our musical entertainment for this month. Join me next time for another gander at my open box. You’re all welcomed to have a good fiddle about with it in the meantime.

~Lily

DAMIEN

*Hello you fine folk, how’s it hanging? Okay, enough about you, (damn you guys, always hogging the spotlight) let’s talk about more important things. First of all, huge apologies if I seem to have bypassed any blogs. WordPress has decided that I obviously have far too may people on my Reader and thought it best to omit some entries…without letting me know. How helpful of them is that? Secondly, it’s my loveable but slightly unhinged nephew’s birthday today. From the moment he started dabbling in the dark arts of the  arcane at six months, I knew he would be special. So what better way to celebrate, then with a post that originally appeared on the original blog which was original in it’s originality.

Damien

Nine months, that’s how long it was purportedly meant to take. Nine whole months of anxiously waiting. Waiting for it to take seed. To gestate and to take form. Biding one’s time for the exact moment when it would emerge from its home, its place of rest, its easy baked oven… in other words and for those with not an ounce of subtlety, the vagina.

When the nine months were finally over and there still appeared to be no signs of the womb fruit, I and the rest of my clan begun to suspect that my baby sister may have been carrying an elephant or that perhaps, a diagnosis would soon discover that her enormous bump was due to nothing more than a severe and protracted case of flatulence. But on Tuesday the fifth of November, Bonfire night, *Damien finally arrived. After twelve arduous hours and much screaming for the assistance of drugs, I had calmed down long enough to pay a visit to the latest addition to the insanity tribe. My family.

He was beautiful. Weighing in at just over 8 lbs and looking like he’d spent the last couple of months working the treadmill; my nephew came into this very world. As I gazed adoringly at his tiny features, all wrinkled, the bits of placenta and dried blood making him no less enchanting, I was suddenly overcome by an intense and overwhelming sense of love and…fear? Were those bloodshot red pupils that gazed angrily back at me from underneath heavy, hooded lids? Surely not. I blinked once and shook my head as if to clear away the foolish thought that had obviously impaired my vision; for when I haltingly chanced to look upon him once more, all appeared to be normal. Well it had been a long day, I surmised. One that had started at 1 am and hadn’t ended until 1 pm the following day. And I had had very little sleep. That must be it. My lack of slumber was obviously starting to affect my waking hours.

Rocking the babe steadily as my sister sought to recuperate from birthing something the size of a one of the seven dwarves, I begun to hum a gentle, yet lilting lullaby. Just as I was bursting out the second chorus to ‘Baby you’re a firework,’ I detected a voice that seemed to be coming from nearby. “Jesus woman, what the blazes? Swing me any higher and I’ll be clutching at that damnable light bulb very soon!”

“Who said that?” I shrieked aloud. I scanned the delivery room but apart from myself, the baby, my sister and the midwife who looked as though she was playing a game of Tug Of War with the placenta, there was no one else around. I shrugged my shoulders and walked over to the cot in order to lay him down, when suddenly, the child flew from my grasp and hovered just above the crib.

Terrified and in utter shock, I again looked at the midwife who now appeared to be stitching my sister a brand new Lady Garden and then to my sister herself, who looked as though she was silently praying for the sweet relief of death. “But…but…but that’s impossible,” I all but stammered. “That is the most terrifying sight I’ve ever seen.” “I know”, remarked the midwife from in-between my sister’s quivering thighs, “I’ve seen caves that were smaller.” “No”, I spat out, I’m not talking about my sister’s foo-foo, I’m talking about the baby! Look…he’s…he’s floating…” “Must be the Pethidine”, pronounced the midwife, now surveying her handiwork, “that shit is better than crack.”

“No!” I bellowed almost hysterical now, “the baby…he’s actually floating…in mid-air!” At the preposterousness of my announcement, all heads finally swiveled round, though not literally because that crap would be scary, to observe the babe who was now nestled safely and quietly in his cot. “But…but…” I stuttered, tongue tripping over my words. “ Looks like someone’s been at the gas and air whilst we weren’t looking eh?” Commented the bitch midwife with a wry smile. “Floating baby indeed,” she huffed.

 I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I had been holding and took in a deep lungful of air. “I must be more tired than I thought”, I voiced in return, rubbing at my furrowed brow. “ Listen sis, I’m gonna go home and catch up on some sleep. I’ll be back to visit later”. As I bent to kiss my newly born nephew gently upon his forehead, I was sure that I saw the faint trace of a smirk play upon those tiny lips. And I’m fairly certain that as he lifted his minute hand in the air, in the way that all newborns do, the little bastard gave me the finger. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on you little one…a very close eye,” I whispered into his ear. And as I walked towards the entrance, I’m positive that I heard a small voice say something that sounded very much like “bite me.”

The End?

*All names have been changed to protect the not so innocent. And to stop me from possibly being murdered in my sleep.

~Lily