June 19, 2010
Cup O' Idol
Filed under: Inventory
Click thumbnail for larger image.
Some idols are lovingly transported in golden tabernacles, others are proudly hoisted into the air on shoulders and backs of the devoted. A very small percentile, though, are blessed enough to cross distant lands and vast bodies of water stuffed in a fucking Styrofoam cup. (How many stars should I give this particular Ebay seller for "packaging"?)
Click thumbnail for larger image.
I promise that one of these fucking days I'll sit down and try to explain the entire "divine nursemaid" thing. Until then, though, you can pass the time by chalking a point under "number of people I know who have a lactation/breastfeeding fetish". I mean, if you like to keep tallies of shit like that. (HEY, I'M NOT JUDGING YOU. EVERYONE NEEDS A MOTHERFUCKING HOBBY, RIGHT?)
Hathor, for me, falls somewhere between Ishtar (SEX! DEATH! WAR!) and the Virgin Mary (COMPASSION! FORGIVENESS! UNRELENTING LOVE!). As of now I've mostly got both feet stuck in Ishtarville, but I'm slowly bridging the gap between Her and Madonna to help balance the cosmic scale. (I've got "WAR" down to a perfected art, "COMPASSION"; however, remains a mystifying, elusive skill reserved for the very patient, very understanding and very saintly. <- i.e., not fucking me)
She's always been in the background (in that sort've "WELL...I FEEL THE IDEA AND LIKE THE LOOK, MORE SO THAN A LOT OF THE OTHERS" way (<- i.e., Bast - SORRY, INTERNET, BUT I'M A CANINE GAL ALL THE MOTHEREFFING WAY AND MS. CAT LADY DOES NADA FOR ME)) but when I learned she wasn't just a DIVINE FUCKING COW she was a DIVINE //MOODY// FUCKING COW I inevitably became hella, hella sweet on her. (Predictable, or what?)
Hormonal, irritable, fickle-ass exalted she-cow whose bad fucking temperament is so fucking well known that she's constantly plied with music, song and dance just to keep her relatively happy and appeased? I don't only dig that; I fucking live it.
For obvious reasons, "moody cow" is no longer a pejorative description in this house. "It's not PMS, baby, it's a divine fucking state of being, okay? Now play some effing sistrums for me before I stampede over your fucking day with my bad motherfucking attitude." (<- "YOU HAVE A BAD FUCKING ATTITUDE" = the condensed biography of my life. Seriously.)
Hathor; not exactly Ishtar, not exactly the Virgin Mary, but temperamentally lactating somewhere in between.
