Mummy Dicks

Mummies: Ancient Cure-All or the Original Soylent Green? Ah, the good old days. A time when the most reliable way to treat whatever ailed you—be it a headache, a bad case of the runs, or even an existential crisis—was to nibble on a bit of dried-up ancient corpse. Yes, folks, there was once a time when the upper crust of European society, in all their powdered-wig glory, thought the key to good health was eating mummies. Talk about taking "eating clean" to a whole new, disgusting level. You see, back in the 16th and 17th centuries, people were willing to try anything to avoid a premature dirt nap. So when some entrepreneurial quack figured out that grinding up mummy flesh into powder could be passed off as a cure-all, the idea spread faster than an influencer with a new detox tea. It wasn't just peasants chomping on pharaoh jerky either—oh no. Kings, queens, and even popes were in on this "health trend," all too eager to wash down their mummified medicine with a goblet of wine. Imagine being the guy in charge of sourcing the "ingredients" for this miracle powder. It’s bad enough that these mummies were once actual human beings with families and probably a few complaints about the afterlife, but now they’re being carted off by European grave robbers who could’ve easily been the inspiration for that sketchy guy selling “vintage” items on eBay. You thought selling snake oil was bad? Try selling 3,000-year-old powdered mummy to cure your erectile dysfunction. That’s a level of marketing we haven’t seen since someone convinced the world that kale tastes good. So, what did these brave souls think mummy powder could do? Well, apparently, it was a panacea for just about everything: headaches, muscle aches, stomach issues, and most likely even a bruised ego after your latest jousting match didn’t go so well. Got a broken bone? Sprinkle a little mummy on it. Suffering from gout? Mummy powder to the rescue. Basically, if something could go wrong with the human body, they figured a pinch of powdered Pharaoh would set it right. But, in a twist of fate that surprises absolutely no one, eating mummy didn’t actually cure anything. If anything, it gave people a mouthful of dry, dusty regret. Eventually, even the most gullible of health nuts started to catch on, realizing that maybe, just maybe, the ancient Egyptians weren’t packing their mummies with ancient wisdom but rather a whole lot of “please stop eating me.” So, the next time someone offers you a magic pill or a miracle cure, just remember: it’s probably no better than eating a mummy. And if they try to sell you on the health benefits of anything that rhymes with “humminy” or “daddy long legs,” run in the other direction. Or better yet, offer them some kale. It’s not powdered mummy, but it’ll taste just as bad.