For example: The Egyptians of the Middle Kingdom had white cows with black blodges on, so I should perhaps be less weirded out by fuzzy Holstein Hwt-Herw. Still thinking about whether I am less weirded out, though.
I hurt a lot. As Mom noted when we spent a little while in the art museum near her place when we were visiting, art museums hurt feet. And it took me for-fuckin'-ever to get warm again when I got home, even with several blankets and intermittent assistance from Arthur.
I had forgotten -- well, not forgotten, but I only remembered in a sort of intellectual sense -- how much I love the Andean pipes. Have ripped my Inca Son albums to MP3. I vill not rrip the Rumal, it is skrratched. And I only have Fortaleza on tape. Must remember to use this playlist as background if I ever get back to The Chosen and need to get in the right frame of mind for Jule's supernatural bits.
Section 97: 620. (Total, 1380.) Done.
Section 98: 527. Done.
Section 99: 1122. Done. (!)
Total output for the day: 2269. Go go gadget writer. But I suspect tomorrow will be an 'I just washed my brain, can't do a thing with it' day as a result.
In addition to my usual mutterings of talking to myself, I seem to have picked up the habit of muttering mantra-prayers to Wepwawet under my breath.
Fall down now.
I hurt a lot. As Mom noted when we spent a little while in the art museum near her place when we were visiting, art museums hurt feet. And it took me for-fuckin'-ever to get warm again when I got home, even with several blankets and intermittent assistance from Arthur.
I had forgotten -- well, not forgotten, but I only remembered in a sort of intellectual sense -- how much I love the Andean pipes. Have ripped my Inca Son albums to MP3. I vill not rrip the Rumal, it is skrratched. And I only have Fortaleza on tape. Must remember to use this playlist as background if I ever get back to The Chosen and need to get in the right frame of mind for Jule's supernatural bits.
Section 97: 620. (Total, 1380.) Done.
Section 98: 527. Done.
Section 99: 1122. Done. (!)
Total output for the day: 2269. Go go gadget writer. But I suspect tomorrow will be an 'I just washed my brain, can't do a thing with it' day as a result.
In addition to my usual mutterings of talking to myself, I seem to have picked up the habit of muttering mantra-prayers to Wepwawet under my breath.
Fall down now.
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Now I'm stuck imagining a Sekhmet version of this. There is something disturbing about the idea of a fuzzy stuffed animal Sekhmet.
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Yes, I do have a warped sense of humor. Why do you ask?
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