Just In Case I Ever Meet An Ancient Egyptian

I did this blog once, but I could never figure out how to get the hieroglyphics onto the page, because they set it up without enabling a person to copy it in such a way. It was disappointing, because why would you want access to an online Egyptian hieroglyphics translator without being able to copy it to something, but I guess the actual question should be this: "Why would you want to do it anyway?

But just in case I ever meet an ancient Egyptian eunuch, who works in some rich Pharaoh's harem--you know, one of those who have been "fixed" and consequently smile a lot and are obese, here's how I'd give them the following compliment:

You don't sweat that much for a fat guy.

I'd smile after I drew it on a blank sheet of paper, and hope nothing was lost in translation. But the big guys were not suffering from any excess of testosterone, so I wouldn't have to fear for my life.

Or if I meet an ancient Egyptian who particularly liked George W. Bush and Cheney too, especially the latter's warlike tendencies to torture enemy soldiers and shoot aging Texas lawyers. I would have this snappy comeback to scrawl quickly in my notebook:

And I am the walrus, goog goog a joob!

The way I look at it, when in doubt, always rely on a song written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney as a smart @$$ remark. Somehow, it gives the whole thing a bit of European flavor and a 60's point of view.

Say for example, I decide to take this ancient Egyptian to a great rivalry football or basketball game. I will make a sign, but in order for my guest to understand the words scratched across the poster board, I will have to use my notebook again.

Here are the words:

BYU! BYU!

Where the girls are pretty

And the boys are too.

And say for example we're sitting in the stands in Provo, and a couple of Cougar fans are giving us the "stinky eye," because for my friend in his loin cloth and me--dressed only in jeans and not something from the Gap or some other snobby trendy clothing store--I will have this one ready to scrawl with magic marker on a large white poster board:

May the bird of paradise find you hatless!

Now, I'll have to explain to my newly found friend, that the bird of paradise is not an Ibis or any other kind of holy bird. It's just an obnoxious white creature that mostly hangs out near harbors or freshly plowed fields or lakes and now sails in the heavens looking for leftover cheeseburgers or anything else left from the tailgate parties before the game at cursed Cougar Stadium, named after an Aggie.

It might even be one of the same birds that measled our car with white blotches of goo during the game, or even narrowly missed us with their little Scheissbomben. But I figure as soon as my friend knows why I invoke the reference to this new bird, even in an act of senseless wrath, he'll smile a bit in understanding as he looks at faces sneering at us and other Aggie fans. But if I see any BYU fan, who meets the fated moment on the way to a vehicle after the game, I will smile even if my Aggies lose. It will be a day worth living in Happy Valley.