When I die, now don't think that I'm a nut, don't want no fancy funeral, just one like old King Tut.
You want to know how Egyptians pulled the brains out of mummies. or built the pyramids, or cursed King Tut's tomb? My dad's your man.
What about King Tut’s tomb?” I protested. “That boy king?” Zia rolled her eyes. “Boring. You should see some of the good tombs.
Our problems started in Dallas, when the fire-breathing sheep destroyed the King Tut exhibit.
We are suffering today from a species of Christianity as dry as dust, as cold as ice, as pale as a corpse, and as dead as King Tut. We are suffering not from a lack of correct heads but of consumed hearts.
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