Wella Didwarnya – Goddess of “I Told You So”

October 4, 2020October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Who could have foreseen that a Premier who wouldn’t wear a face mask during a global pandemic would wind up in hospital? If you did, then Wella Didwarnya is the deity for you!

Wella Didwarnya spontaneously came into existence within 15 minutes of the first human marriage. She grew in power as quickly as their first offspring grew into teenagers. She is also known as “The Lady of the Lake of Tears” and Icalledit. She walks the mortal world, watching for that potent combination of ignorance and hubris. When she finds it (and it never takes long), she can deliver devastating poetic justice faster than Karma can pull its socks on. Wella is always depicted with a slightly self-congratulatory countenance, described as a “resting smug face”. She is sometimes inaccurately described as “doe eyed”. In fact, what she has is hind sight.

Wella Didwarnya’s following is mainly comprised of historians, medical professionals, scientists, climate change activists, teachers, and exasperated parents. They are not prophets in the traditional “mystical vision” sense. They make their predictions using a combination of careful scrutiny of past events, experience, scientific method and analysis of firm data. This makes them 96.25% more accurate than your average oracle, and 99.9% less popular. Their predictions are almost never heeded due to Johnson’s Razor, which states that, “He who hates smart arses, is in the greatest need of smart arses.” One mystery of the universe her scholars have never been able to solve is why fascists call themselves the “Far Right” when they are so-far wrong.

When a follower of Wella has a particularly momentous prediction come true the whole congregation will celebrate with set of ceremonies known as, “The Gloating Rites”. These rituals commence all the worshippers retweeting the original prediction which proved to be correct, followed with the dancing of the “I Told You So” dance. The whole shebang concludes with the poignant “Minute’s Silence with an Old-Fashioned Look.”

The priestesses and priests of Wella Didwarnya work as dedicated archivists to maintain a library of literature and social media posts by notable people. Especially quotes from those folks who have a tendency to hold forth on subjects they have little knowledge of, (so mainly politicians and tabloid columnists). This prodigious resource is made accessible to all followers for quoting in #ThatAgedWell situations. They are led by a High Priestess who focuses on predictions with potentially global consequences, such as climate change. She is known by the title, “The Inconvenient Ruth”.

The worshippers of Wella Didwarnya don’t always get everything right. A recent effort to be more magnanimous in victory, which involved sending a freshly baked pie to every person they repudiated, was very badly received. One virtue of followers of Wella is that they do try to learn from their mistakes. They deduced that the problem was using Spheniscus humboldti penguins as a filling. After all. No one likes eating Humboldt Pie.

Idol Scribblings Volume Two
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Thank you for reading. If you have enjoyed this deity, please feel free to share it with your friends. New deities are published weekly. You can get alerted to new deities via Facebook through the Idol Scribbling Page or on Twitter by following @IdolScribblings . Catch up on the Pantheon so far here.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Beeros – God of Lowered Standards

February 16, 2020October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Beeros is just one of the plethora of deities of the myriad aspects of love. A slightly shady aspect to tell the truth. He is the god of poor relationship decisions taken whilst in your cups. Thought to be the progeny of Justha Wan – God of Impromptu Drinking Sessions, Beeros was born under a table. He is often depicted with a drooping arrow. This suggests that his intoxicated origins may mean he is sometimes affected by projectile dysfunction. The motto of Beeros is “In vino, quisquis!”

Beeros is not just the god of lowered standards in love, but also in culinary discretion. Under his influence worshippers will eat almost anything, believing it tastes like the finest fillet steak. They will only find out that they were actually eating 1980s dog food when they do a white poo tomorrow.

Beeros’s mythology tells of his strange love affair with Princess Psycho. Every night they meet, under the stars and under the influence, as if they have never met before. Each time they fall in love, and Beeros sweeps Psycho away to his great palace where they tumble into bed. Every morning, before the dawn reveals her true appearance and personality, Psycho disappears with the dew, his croissant, his favourite t-shirt and his self respect. Then Beeros’ memory is wiped clean by the ebbing tide of ethanol, and thus the cycle begins again. Though the celestial lovers have repeated this dance every night since the dawn of time, Beeros has never found out what Psycho’s surname is. Many wonder why this foolish behaviour is doomed to repeat itself nightly. The truth is it’s kissmet.

There are possibly more temples of Beeros than of almost any other deity. The largest and hippest temples, are the most popular with the young. They open late into the night and come in a range of flavours, distinguished by the genres of sacred music they like to play. Each one is headed by a team of senior priests known as the Deity Janitors or DJs. The lead DJ will conduct the service from behind an altar made from one nightstand. Whilst there is usually a charge to attend a Temple of Beeros, there is a 40% discount if you attend in skool uniform.

The congregation will gather for worship from about 11pm, once the pubs kick out. In order to attend you must be wearing the distinctive “Porte des Regrets” goggles made from the bottoms of two rosé bottles. These enable the followers of Beeros to not only see the best in everyone they meet, but also in themselves. When wearing this consciousness altering face furniture they will firmly believe that they are genius comedians, sparkling conversationalists, virtuoso singers and graceful dancers. The hopeful faithful will mingle in the temple, where they will attempt the herculean task of softly sweet talking a prospective partner in competition with 110 decibels of DJ. At 1.45am the worshippers of Beeros will perform a strange ritual dance. This involves attempting to subtly dance themselves into the line of site of an uncoupled person and perform a desperate inebriated courtship shuffle. This rite is abruptly ended at 2am by the DJ playing a thrash metal version on Nellie the Elephant. If you haven’t copped off by then, your last hope lies in the queue at the taxi rank.

Some members of the sect wear a magical gem that will mysteriously glow when the wearer stands next to a potential Mr Right (or at least a Mr Right-Now) . This jewel is known as a Peridate Crystal.

Bizarrely, of all the deities of love and fertility, Beeros is statistically proven to be the most effective in respect of number of sprogs spawned. Proving that, until Photoshop came along, alcohol was essential for the survival of mankind. If it wasn’t for Beeros. Many of us would not be here at all. This process of moving rapidly from meeting to parenthood is known as “flirtilisation”. This is not for want of the acolytes of Beeros trying to practice safe sex. All I am going to say is, try practising the guitar after six pints and you’ll realise why their practice is often ineffective.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Houmous – God of Dips

November 3, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Houmous is the deity to get your party started on a Saturday night. As you enter his temple you will see niches to either side of the door holding bowls of Tzatziki. Use some of this to make the sign of the Benevolent Breadstick on your forehead as you cross the threshold.

In the Temple grounds a plethora of sesame, chick peas and garlic are lovingly grown. Just beyond the grounds is the ranch where the sacred herd of yoghurt cows roam and graze a lush paddock. The temple itself is made of cut crystal, and is divided into sections to house different flavours of the faith.

Inside the beat is always dropping and the lights are always low. Worshippers may be reclining on chaise, performing ritual dances or be engaged in deep theological discussion about the nacho versus the crisp. All the while the neophytes circle the room bearing laden platters of nibbles and bowls of delicious sauces.

Whispers speak of secret orgiastic rites, held in the inner sanctum, where the participants paint their naked bodies with taramasalata and engage in wild salsa dancing.

The 5 Commandments of Houmous are;
1. Thou shall not double dip.
2. Thou shall not dip meat products when there are vegetarians at the party.
3. Thou shall not buy long life dips in jars unless thou art already really drunk or thy fridge be broken.
4. Thou shall wash thy hands.
5. Thou shall use a cover during fly season.

Worshippers of Houmous believe that if they live a life of virtue according to these commandments, when they die they will go to an eternal paradise known as “The Thousand Islands”. If you transgress the commandments you will be damned to eternity in a dismal underworld where the only things to eat are low fat plain yoghurt and celery. The high priest of Houmous is called the Baba Ghanoush.

Houmous is known amongst his pantheon as a particularly foul mouthed deity. He is always coming out with loads of crudités. He is accompanied everywhere by “The Cheesehog”, a terrifying minor deity of children’s birthday parties.

Thank you to Ken Page for suggesting Houmous.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Afrodite – Goddess of Fabulous Hair

October 13, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Afrodite is a goddess who knows how to work what her mother gave her. Legend has it that she stepped naked from a sea shell (Although when I tried this I was asked not to come back to the Sealife Centre. Double bloody standards if you ask me).

Afrodite has several different sects that worship her. The Pantenes, The Tresemmes, The Wellas, The Herbalessences and the oldest sect, The Vosenes (who consider themselves head and shoulders above the rest). Regardless of their affiliation, the priests and priestesses wear distinctive long black nylon robes, tied at the neck, which completely cover their other garments. This is topped off with a towel draped around the neck and secured with a plastic hair clip.

You may know her most popular hymn:

She is D divine
She is I incredible
She is S straightening
She is C curling
She is O oh, oh, oh

Key to the observances of all the different sects are the hours spent in meticulous ritual grooming. It is believed that a meditative state of a higher altered consciousness is achieved in the hairdresser’s chair. At her temples one can purchase meditation CDs of hairstylist conversation. Such as the classic “Have you had your holiday yet this year?” or “What did you think of last week’s Strictly?” to help you achieve this state of nirvana.

At the initiation ceremony into the faith Afrodite, the postulate will be anointed with warm sacred oil, and wrapped in a heated towel for fifteen minutes before being leaned backwards and ritually lathered and rinsed in the font (the last two steps will be repeated as needed). Then a priest or priestess will hold a mirror up behind them to scare away any demons they may be facing. At this juncture the neophyte will speak the words, “Great, cheers, thanks. What do I owe you?”.

Followers of Afrodite believe that when they curl up and dye they will climb the hair-way to heaven, provided they have been pious. The unkempt and unvirtuous will be condemned to Hairdes where they will be forced to forever style their Barnet with hair styx.

Afrodite’s sacred text is called “The Little Book of Clam”.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Anachronistes – God of Historical Inaccuracy

September 15, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Whenever a creative team try to recreate the past through the conjury of cinema, Anachronistes will be there. He is dreaded and feared by directors and producers. If he is not appeased with the appropriate rites and offerings before filming starts, he will make random items like plastic water bottles, Starbucks coffee cups or a flock of llamas magically appear in shot. The makers of Downton Abbey, Game of Thrones and Troy have learned to respect Anachronistes the hard way. To perform the ritual to appease Anachronistes you must first drape everything around you in hessian, lay your Artistic Licence Card on the altar and light some dribbley candles around it. Next, rend a roast chicken limb from limb with your bare hands whilst singing “Greensleeves”. Finally, sacrifice some cold hard cash to your local University History Faculty.

The priestesses of Anachronistes are known as the “Polyester Princesses” and the priests as the “Knylon Knights of Kni”. In addition to the usual duties of leading worship and caring for the temple, the priests of Anachronistes hire themselves out as movie extras. Some film buffs like to play a game where they watch the crowd scenes in historical movies and try to spot a priest of Anachronistes. How do you recognise them? Well, they will be the plebeian watching the gladiatorial games whilst chatting on their mobile phone, the medieval peasant wench hefting a tomato at someone in the stocks or the Spartan soldier sporting sunglasses*. The temple scribes of Anachronistes were also responsible for drawing all the “travelling map” animations for the Indiana Jones film trilogy.

When not involved in the magical world of the movies, the priesthood of Anachronistes like to infiltrate historical re-enactments as a kind of hobby. They stride out onto a battlefield draped in a tartan car rug and a smear of woad with a colander on their head. After the battle they will bed down in the living history camp in their authentic plastic yurt, complete with electrical camping hook up (just like the ancient nomads of the Steppes used to have). They revel in the seething rage they invoke in everyone who put hours of research and hand sewing into their attire and tentage. There are dark rumours that there have been actual murders. Only rumours mind. After all who’s going to notice one more skeleton buried under a battlefield?

There is a militant counter-sect that seek to thwart the acolytes of Anachronistes at every turn. “The Authenticity Police” are a learned, if somewhat anally retentive bunch. If you know one of their number, NEVER go to see a historical film with them. They are the kind of people who enjoy heckling the costume department. They rarely engage in direct conflict with the followers of Anachronistes. Their actions are usually restricted to online pedantry and snarking.

The Temple of Anachronistes is a distinctive 13th Century Neo-Tudor-Classical half-timbered, breeze block castle with polystyrene Doric columns and a thatched roof. This temple is truly a magnificent architectural gem, dear reader, and it is worth pausing here, for a moment, to admire it in your mind’s eye. The corners of the roof are ornamented with exquisitely carved gargoyles. Everyone’s favourite gargoyle is the one on the east side that looks like Alien. This gargoyle has been affectionately nicknamed “Paisley”. Through the temple’s Georgian sash windows you may be able to spot the elegant electric chandeliers that illuminate the interior. (Although, they are not always working as their support ropes tend to be vulnerable to swashbuckling heroes.)

The Temple of Anachronistes houses a cinema, where the priesthood can sit back and admire their handy work. Such a huge variety of historical films from all over the world are screened, that they rarely show repeats. However, once a year on the anniversary of the Battle of Stirling Bridge, the priests and priestesses gather en mass to enjoy the film Braveheart, which they consider to be their finest hour. At the appropriate moment of the film, the lead priest will chant, “Hold. Hold. Hold. NOW!” and the assembled priesthood will respond by chorusing,

“Where’s the f***ing bridge Mel?”

Thank you to Alex Smith, Clare Starkie, Rebecca Stothard who have all chipped in on this one.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

*The priesthood of Anachronistes would like me to make it explicitly clear that they had absolutely nothing to do with the film Teen Wolf.

Gardenia – Goddess of Lady Gardeners

September 1, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Gardenia is a goddess for the dawning of the age of Asparagus. She’s a deity you can really dig. Her delicate, shapely avatar disguises a Titanium alloy spine with a hinge in it. Her a-maize-ing beauty is renowned. It is said that she walks naked through gardens in the quiet beauty of the night. In the morning you will know you have been blessed with a visitation as you apples will have blushed red and your courgettes will have transformed into marrows. She flies through the skies on her steed “The Snap Dragon”.

Gardenia’s enemies are the Gnome of Loam (who went insane in the Plantain) who rides the Dandy Lion (who’s roots run deep into prehistory). They are said to be trying to bring the winds and frosts that burn the blossoms, and flowers that never bloom are believed to be a very bud omen.

The Temple of Gardenia is home to many wonders. The temple itself is an 8×12 summer-house and is surrounded by a picturesque and well tended lady garden with an immaculately topiaried bush. The garden is always lush, well watered by the perspiration of the acolytes. If you visit be sure to marvel at the lawn which yields exactly one grass box of cuttings at each mowing and the shed which always has the tool you need at the front. The visit is traditionally concluded by visiting their “Museum of Hoes” and casting ones seed upon the ground in offering. The Sisters often invite visitors to assist in the care of the gardens. So don’t be surprised if you get invited to do a little forking. Do not be tempted to steal from or desecrate the temple, all the flowers have pistols.

In one corner of the temple grounds, a plot is reserved where they are intending to inter the remains of Boris Johnson when the time comes. The Sisterhood are hoping that if they plant him, they can grow their own dope.

The Temple is populated and run by the Sisters of Gardenia. They are distinguishable by their wearing of the traditional green tights or “Garden Hose”. There is a scholarly element to membership of the Sisters of Gardenia. The priestesses will typically study STEM subjects.

The Sisters work to try and ensure every visitor to the temple finds a little inner peas. If you are pensive, one of the Sisters of Gardenia will offer you a peony for your thoughts. They believe gardening to be a panacea for all kinds of mental distress. For example, an often recommended remedy for self-pity is to grow a pear. Many a lost soul has blossomed in their care. The Sisters also employ music in their healing rituals are often known to turnip the beet. The most popular hymn is “Don’t Stop Be-Leafing”. A small libation of wine is offered to the Goddess at each healing ritual, this is always a fine rosé.

The High Preistess of Gardenia takes a managerial role. This, essentially, means the kind of gardening that involves sitting in a deckchair, wearing a big straw hat, drinking Pims and telling someone else where to dig. The current incumbent is a lady from the West Midlands called “Orchid”. The correct way to formally address her is “Yo Orchid!”. She is known for being a reckless driver and has often been known to put the petal to the metal on her way to the garden centre and floret home again.

Thank you to Teresa Lee for suggesting Gardenia. Hello Mum!

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Betty Swoobs – Goddess of Heatwaves

July 28, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Betty Swoobs is the Goddess of Heatwaves in latitudes where extreme temperatures are only occasionally experienced. Sometimes known as the English Summer Goddess. She watches over all those who briefly bake in high summer temperatures approximately once a year. Wherever an air conditioner cannot be considered a reasonable long-term investment, wherever people sleep with but one foot under the duvet and whenever Linus puts down his blue blanket voluntarily, she is there.

Betty Swoobs is said to be comely in the form of her features, but strikingly unusual in her colouring. Beneath a tumbling mass of titian hair, is a face the hue of a boiled lobster dusted with golden freckles. As she is not at the coast where she would like to be, her visage constantly wears a miserable expression, known as her resting beach face. She is renowned for having a hot arse. This is because she drives a black celestial chariot with vinyl seats. Her thighs are quite badly burned too. She is a virgin goddess, though not by choice. It’s just that her thighs have been stuck together with sweat since 5763 BCE.

Her divine consort is Bheti Swallocks, the God of PVC trousers. However, her married status has never deterred the lusts of the Thunder God. This lustful rambling rumbler seems to follow her everywhere, stalking just a few hours behind her and trying to flash her, as she flees ahead of his massing clouds.

The faithful of Betty Swoobs meet for worship in the refrigerator aisles of supermarkets and freezer centres. Here they chill the atmosphere even more with a little prayer conditioning. A rite will last until a security guard asks them to move on or buy something. At which point they will blindly grab a random purchase from the “Seasonal Goods” aisle. The item they blindly select is said to be prophetically significant. As most rites of Betty Swoobs are held between June and August, this item is usually a pack of Christmas Cards.

Followers will also sometimes attempt to gather outdoors for a ritual alfresco meal. When they do, a sacrificial dish of jam is always placed a short distance from the party. Betty Swoobs is said to be constantly accompanied by a swarm of supernatural wasps known as the Narsti-Buggerz. This offering is an attempt to placate these wing-ed psychopaths and ensure a peaceful picnic.

Once a year, on once of these outings, they will hold a series of games to honour the goddess. The first event is a race in which you have to run back from an ice cream van with a 99 and eat it before it melts. This race is called “The Game of Cones”. If you win, you get to sit on the Iron Cone. This is not as must fun as it sounds. They also hold a competition to formulate the most effective sun block called “The SPF-X Factor”.

All music for ritual worship of Betty Swoobs is supplied from the stereos of passing cars, blasting out at the loudest possible volume to be sure of reaching the ears of the goddess. Thumping bass beats are said to please her most. She also enjoys the sound of lawn movers, strimmers and chain saws at 8.30am on a Sunday morning.

The head of the clergy is known by the title “Mrs Droughtfire”, and they assume feminine attire regardless of gender. The main task of Mrs Droughtfire is to walk the ancient paths across the moorlands and to practice human sacrifice on any blithering fool they see attempting to light a barbecue on the peaty soil. She will then pile stones over the remains to make a little cairn as a warning to others. Mrs Droughtfire always keeps a ceremonial pet bear of the sub-species Ursus fumus.

Betty Swoobs has no temples in Australia. The Australians find her whole faith hilarious. Instead they worship Troppo – God of Proper Scorchers.

Thank you to all the Hive Mind for chipping in and helping with Betty Swoobs, especially Janet Hudson and Adam Broadhurst.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

RaRaRa – God of Cheerleaders

June 19, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Need a little motivation to get you through Hump Day? Then Ra Ra Ra could be the deity for you. He’s the God that’s always cheering you on to be your best.

The Temple of RaRaRa is built around the blessed “Hand Spring” and close to the summer salt mines. The compound is planted with an impressive orchard of a unique variety of apple tree. These grow an unusual “double apple” fruit known as Pomme-Pommes. The temple building has four wings with a rectangular central courtyard, known as the Squadwrangle, where larger scale worship takes place. Its roof is adorned with many decorative aerials.

His temples have (possibly) the most entertaining services, which always follow a strict routine. The priesthood will guide you in waving your offerings of sacred pomme-pomme fruits in the air and lead you in a rousing chorus of “Give Him an Ankh!” Conducting the worship is arduous for the clergy. So, before they commence they will traditionally drink some root beer to get them rootin’. At the most hallowed part of the ritual, worshippers will share the Holy Hot Dog and all partake of a sip of soda from the JumboMegaCup. After a short break, a guest speaker will usually deliver a half time show sermon. This sermon will often be a subject of furious online debate amongst the worshippers,. Afterwards, as you leave, be sure to pick up a souvenir from the “Tuck Shop”.

There is a large seminary college where postulates are trained for religious service. The first thing they learn is that cheering is a serious athletic endeavour. They must be prepared to exceed those they support in gymnastic prowess. They are also taught to expect and forbear low wages and a general lack of respect. Students are kept company by a friendly ghost who inhabits the building, known affectionately as “The School Spirit”. The college uniform colour is yeller.

The church of RaRaRa rarely involves itself in politics. When they have ventured into the hustings, their candidates have been known to flip flop.

Members of this faith will often save all their lives to be interred in the largest human pyramid possible after death. Followers will often involve themselves in the study of astronomy throughout life. They believe that after death, the journey to the afterlife takes us to become one with the heavens and it is best to know the route in advance. They believe that potentially we are All-Stars.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Latrine – Goddess of Music Festivals

June 9, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Latrine is principally a summer Goddess. Many think she originated in the 1960s, but in fact she is much, much older. It is said she was formed from the wet earth churned by the feet and spilled beer of the first humans to gather and entertain each other with turns around the campfire. She has no permanent temple, all music festivals are her sacred spaces. Latrine has the power to maintain good spirits in any weather. No matter how much it rains, she’s never a stick in the mud.

Attending a ritual of worship for Latrine can be a full on and taxing (at 20%), though worthwhile experience. Whilst there are many small and family friendly services around the country every year, the most famous are bewilderingly huge. She is such a widely loved deity that, in order to attend the most popular gatherings, one must first engage in either a multi million pound auction, have a top notch internet connection and the fastest “refresh key finger” in the west or be prepared to throw down in a vegan street-fight. Following this one must muster one’s survival equipment and journey to try and find a patch of field big enough for your tent within a miles walk of the main stage.

Latrine has been said to apparate at honoured music festivals. There is even a photograph of the crowd watching R.E.M. play “Losing My Religion” at Glastonbury 1999 which is said to have captured one of her visitations. If you look carefully, that’s her in the corner. She seems to be divinely illuminated by a heavenly spotlight. Latrine has been known to work miracles for the musicians, performers and crew who strive to stage her rites. One legendary tale, told in revered tones in green rooms around the world, is of how she came to the rescue of The Who. Their minibus ran out of petrol on the way to the Reading Festival in 1966 on a remote country road where they could see for miles and miles with no sign of civilization. The band were just thinking “We won’t get fuelled again!” when Latrine appeared to them with a full Gerry can. They asked “Who are you?” but she just smiled and kept her secrets behind blue eyes. Henceforth this blessed vehicle has become known as The Magic Bus.

The most holy sanctuary within the festival site is the Port-a-Loo. Visiting one is an essential necessity of the proper order of worship. Inside one will receive enlightenment into the full spectrum of the human condition. If Latrine is smiling upon you, your visit will be timed just after her angels in biohazard suits with the sludge-gulper have refreshed the cubicle. For the 0.0956 nanoseconds following their visit, there will be toilet paper and a slightly less pungent odour.

The priests and priestesses of Latrine can be identified by their “Crew” wristbands and AAA laminates. Each festival their role begins as one of organisation, transitions into damage limitation, and ends as a disaster area clean up operation. Worshippers who leave a mess are not considered to be the true faithful by the inner circle. Blessed are those who use a bin. Some clergy are trained specifically as healers to man the first aid tent. They are said to be highly skilled medics as they know the difference between Placebo and The Cure. The security priests have health and safety as their paramount concern. This is why they insist that everybody looks at their hands whilst dancing. Latrine’s greatest powers are her ability to open your mind to new experiences, to create happy memories and the feeling that it was all worth it. She is also known to the Romans as “Domum Stercore”.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Heinie – The Moon(ing) Goddess

June 5, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Heinie is a Goddess you can really get behind. She is an exuberant and cheeky deity who knows good Craic. She’s too high, going too far, too soon. And that’s why there is every chance that you may see the hole of the Moon. Should Heinie appear to you, you will be able to really see her tranquillity. Should you capture a photo of her apparition, it’ll be one for the al-bum. Heinie always appears as the same avatar. She never apollo guises.

The Temple of Heinie is located on cul de sac in a deep ravine between the rolling hills near Nether Wallop. The many reviews by tourists will tell you that the architecture of the temple is best admired from the backside. Be sure to take in the roof, which is supported by graceful moon-beams, and travel up the main staircase to the renowned “Moon Landing”.

The first recorded High Priestess was Lady Culo. She is reputed to have been a highly intelligent and well educated woman. A statue of her still bends over in the temple of Heinie to this day. There is a superstition that if one rubs the left buttock of the statue, three wishes will be granted. Her genie-arse is much revered. The other statue of note in the temple is a life sized bronze of Buzz Aldrin, who is regarded as a prophet. It’s plinth is inscribed with the words “Neil before me”.

If a young lady desires to enter the priesthood of Heinie she will prepare for several years. In addition to meditation, exercise and prayer, she will prepare a collection of skimpy thongs. These are laid away in her bottom draw ready for the day of her initiation. Once she graduates to full priestess-hood, she will wear them for the daily rite where the clergy bare their behinds and raise them to the heavens in prayer. This takes place every day as the dark cleft of the night turns to the crack of dawn. Sometimes the priestesses will moon competitively. They each try to win several victories in a row. Every priestess wants to have a winning streak. On rare and special occasions they will decorate their derrieres with wode, but this only happens once in a blue moon.

The French greet their friends by kissing each other on both cheeks. When the faithful of Heinie greet one another they kiss each other on all four cheeks. Followers of Heinie will find that their wealth waxes and wanes wildly throughout the month. One week their coffers can be full, and a couple if weeks later they’re down to their last quarter. They often have a philosophical and reflective attitude towards these strange tides of fortune.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.