My particular deity, Our Lady of Consequences! Sekhmet is the force that says if you wander out into the Egyptian desert without water, you will die, and it doesn’t matter whether you’re the Worst President Evah or a tiny tot who couldn’t be expected to know any better or a falling-down (well, staggering-off) drunk or engaged in a Mystic Crystal-Bunny Chemically-Enhanced Vision Quest: Make the wrong choices and die. Is it her fault most humans can’t figure out that equation no matter how often they repeat the course?

They call her pitiless, which of course is true, but she never gets any credit for her sense of humor.

She seems to have been the patron deity of Queen Hatshepsut, for instance — a lady who knew a few things about choices and consequences. Some of the finest contemporary representations of Sekhmet were commissioned by Hatshepsut, and preserved for our present age when her dim-witted successor Thutmose IV petulantly buried them where they couldn’t serve as a continual reminder that he wasn’t half the man his stepmother/aunt/regent had been while the little schmuck bankrupted a rich and powerful kingdom playing general. If one accepts the possibility of reincarnation, there are certain parallels with a little schmuck currently attempting to bankrupt another rich and powerful kingdom in an attempt to bolster his codpiece.

Now, when asked if someone knows me from somewhere or if I’m related to someone they know because I look so familiar, I just say, “I have one of those faces.”

Thanks for introducing me to Cross Canadian Ragweed. It’s a country style I can live with, like Rockabilly.

And I would totally do you.

Or something like that. I can’t be arsed to look myself up right now. There’s beer waiting.

#

Jillian said,

April 30, 2007 at 3:29

Or, perhaps, your license to destill.

God, I don’t want to go to work tomorrow.

I don’t want to go to work tomorrow, either. And for the record, I went to work 1) today, and 2) yesterday, and all last week.

Leading to this conclusion: If it was fun, they wouldn’t call it work.

mikey

OMG, I knew that dood. He was a sergeant in the green beanies, a real lifetaker. He’d go over the fence long and deep and bring back scalps and ears. I never liked getting too close to him, he seemed to be everything people shouldn’t be. But he found a way to live outside the rules, and hunt people for fun, and not have to be answerable for the violations he committed.

Our lady of slaughter, indeed.

Eater of snakes, taker of lives, arbiter of existence. Unable to live in real life.

I’m dirty ’cause I admire him, even as I hate him…

mikey

God, I don’t want to go to work tomorrow.

If this doesn’t scare you,
this will.

And yes, that IS RuPaul.

I once had a drunken cult member at a bar tell me that I looked like an avatar of an Egyptian goddess. Which is funny, because I’m so pale I make paper look tan. This is why I don’t go to bars anymore – I’m afraid of having my daily weirdness quota exceeded.

And the taste in my mouth. Gahhh

Anyway, I take pride in my pre-emptive youtube assault of Atrios. Now that I finally have the ability to post vids, I declare the Sadlynaut-Atrios detente dead in the water!!! Hostilities have renewed; I am hair metal vid poster, destroyer of worlds!

– And if those vids aren’t atrocious enough WMDs, I’m happy to say that no option is off the table, including (banned by many international treaties and the decent opinion of mankind) VIDEOS FEATURING THE KEYTAR. Oh, yes, the centrifuges are spinning here in Sadlystan. muahaha.

Oh, has anyone else had problems with Gmail lately? I keep getting ‘error code 007′ when I try to write an email. Anybody know what’s up with that?

I saw Winona Ryder a few days ago and I thought she was my aunt.

(My aunt’s a shoplifter.)

(That Marion Berry speech needs to be put to music and piped through loudspeakers.)

I look a little bit like Gentle Ben, which goes over really big with the outdoorsy-type girls. Of course, my wife is unamused when she catches me in an old tree stump with a she-bear and an empty half-case of Schaeffer tall-boys.

At least I wear a condom.