Now, Without Removable Head (The Updated, bot produced, Holy-Water Bottle)

Billy Quinn 1954
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Now, Without Removable Head (The Updated, bot produced, Holy-Water Bottle)
Now, Without Removable Head (The Updated, bot produced, Holy-Water Bottle)

I am a bit short of ideas at the moment, myself, and might have a go, even, with the making off with someone else's idea. I've been mainly pushing themes around in images, though there have been some words attached. I think I am more comfortable in that direction, a big fecking picture book.

My brain, for what it's worth, seems to deal better with that combination,

I can get closer to what it is I am trying to get closer to.
BVM hot-water-bottles and the like, well now there's an idea, as you said.

As per usual, I feel an image coming on. I am my own worst enema.

The mater had one of those screw-top holy-water bottles at one point. Somebody probably brought it back to her from Lourdes or Knock, or one of them other 'Divine Visitation hot-spots'.

Anyways it was one of those plastic translucent-bodied BVMs, that pellucid darling, resplendent in her best white 'Guna', with that lovely virgin-blue sashy thing she liked to wear. I don't remember if she was crushing the head of the serpent, that bad man himself, under her heel, or not. I don't think she was. I think that was one of her other gigs.

Even as a child I thought it was strange, but lots of fun, that you had to screw the virgin's head off, to pour out the blessed 'uisce'. If I had been at the making of it, that bottle, myself, I would have had you screwing the virgin's crown off, and not be at the decapitating of her, every time you felt in need of a blessed splash. Which, if I remember rightly, was a lot in those dark old days.

Indeed there might be some relief there, something that might soothe one to sleep, in the taking of a hot 'Virgin' water-bottle to bed with you. Me mammy had an electric blanket thingy and the decapitatible virgin beside her, on the nightstand, full of the blessed water, surely a dangerous combo.

I remember in my childhood, before we had cancer, and everybody was always burning themselves to death with their fags in bed. That's cigarettes, not that scurrilous, then popular, put-down for homosexuals. There was that regular conversation down at the crossroads, that boreen spaghetti junction, relative to Biddy Malone, or whoever, and the fags getting her. Self-immolation does seem to have gone out of fashion now that we have cancer.

We didn't have spaghetti in those days either. I'm just at the showing off.

Anyways, enough of my dewey-eyed reminiscences.

I like the new style of bottles, sort of Swarovski/Gaultier tasteful, a huge step up from screwing the poor women's head off. I like the fake gold.

Isn't fakery just wonderful?

Did you see that smouldering Timothee lad and his new Chanel ad? What on earth is the world coming to? It all puts me in mind of poor old Biddy Malone, beastly dead at 83, all because of the fags.

Glossary:

BVM: Blessed Virgin Mary
Guna: Gaelic for frock or dress
Uisce: Gaelic for water
Boreen: Gaelic for a mid 20th Century mucky country highway
Fecking: vowel interchangeable

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Taken on: June 19, 2023
Sets appears in:   • Countdown    • Holey Moley    more » • Mammaries Are Made of Dis    • Is God Irish?    • Kitchipoo    • Mind The Gap    • Like Some Giant 'Historical' Ladybird Book    • All Things (and Non-Things) Being Equal    • Celestial Callings    • The Fungimentals    « less
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