We gothic servants of Lucifer are not so much unlike you normal, colour wearing folk. Every year on the anniversary of Bob Marley's death, just like you, we offer his ghost a rat's corpse 3 minutes after midnight. We merely (bob merely) do it in a more satanic way, praying that Bob Marley remain in the VIP lounge in hell, jamming with all the other people who preferred the warm, drug filled caves of hell over the boring clean marble corridors of heaven, where the only thing to look forward to all week is christian bingo.
(its like normal bingo but more boring because everybody wins and you can't smoke or swear and theres no cash prize)
As with your traditional normal human method of celebrating the passing of Robert Nesta Marley you must first accumulate 5 people who are all ready to shed a tear and bury a rat.

Here are our five, notice the far away look in their eyes, you can guarantee that a black metal version of 'One Love' is playing on repeat in their heads and that they are imagining themselves on a Gothic version of a tropical beach. For those of you not intitiated into the way of the dark imagination; imagine pitch black palm trees with spiky coconuts full of blood, and the sand is black and instead of crabs there are whip spiders.

Pictured - Gothic Crab
The next thing you must do to satisfy The Marley's lust for rat flesh is to dig a hole in preperation for the sacred rituals. Thats right. A hole. No swinging the rat round our heads in an old sainsbury's bag until the ghost of Marley comes and rips it from our hands like you fucking pencil pushing normal people. Our hole is in the midst of a pentagram with candles at the five points of Karlok, but obviously that goes without saying, thats the case whenever we dig a hole.

Once the pit of rodent rastafarianism has been cut into the soil the means of calling upon the Dark Prince Marley can begin...

(there are some unconfirmed reports that some sauces have already turned reggae, some twice.)
Anyhow its always prudent to start proceeding with a salute to 'he who cannot be any other colour but red'.
After this the sermons start;




Satanists bury the rat as it is easier to reach from hell if it is in the ground. It saves Dark Prince Marley having to fly around the planet to collect his meal, which he has to do in chains for some reason unbeknownst to anybody. This pain in the arse for Marley's ghost is famously illustrated in Charles Dickens' prediction of the future; 'A Christmas Carol'

Only to awake four hours later at about 5am. One of the young disciples of the underworld has heard the earth being rummaged through by something that sounds like the spiritual embodification of a sweet carribean lullaby.

May I just point out that before bob marley died, he lost his dreads. making you look like racist wankers. you got something against the dead?
ReplyDeletefuck y'all
ReplyDeleteJewish burial, similar to green burial, cultivates coming back to the earth as normally as would be prudent. https://williamsmyers.yolasite.com/
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