Then you career from career to career

Greetings, Entropy Reorganizes Introvert’s Closet---


Here is your horoscope for Monday, January 18, 2010 (Happy Martin Luther King Day, everyone! It has just come to Our attention that today is a day of volunteerism (who even knew that was an actual word? And yet, Micro$oft Weird™ accepted it without batting an eye (or crossing a T (or rolling a J)), so We have volunteered to write a horoscope, to entertain those poor schnooks among you who do not have today off. We shall save you some Martin Luther King Day cookies for later when you come over to exchange presents. We can’t wait to see what you got Us!):


(Meanwhile, courtesy of Our Robin, here's this: http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/2010/01/01/2009-the-year-in-painfully-polite-and-hilariously-hostile-notes/ )


(Ordinarily, people (heh), on an Eric’s Daily Horoscope Monday morning, We would be telling you all about Our weekend. But, in an unprecedented epipleptic feizure of creative enterprise, We wrote Eric’s Daily Horoscopes on both Saturday and Sunday of this weekend, leaving Us very little weekend remaining to talk about. (Which, come to think of it, is an extra special treat for those of you who are working today, and who only read Eric’s Daily Horoscope on work days. You’re welcome.) So We are going to tell you all about a movie We watched called Humpday, and thereby save you the time and trouble.)


(The premise of this offense against taste and decency (oh, dear…have We given Our opinion away already?) is “two str8 guys decide to make a g@y p0rno film”. Now, you could imagine how wacky, zany, madcap hijinks might ensue, if the movie were (subjunctively) made with Steve Carell and Jim Carrey. Or how a dramatic journey to self-discovery would win Oscars™ all around for Jake Gyllenhaal and Johnny Depp (We will pause here while MizCynthia locates the smelling salts (Hi, MizCynthia!)). This is not that movie. In this movie (which is so indie it was made by Indians in Indianapolis during the Indy 500), the str8 guys in question “decide” to make the p0rno to impress some hipster friends who are running a “p0rn-film-as-art” contest. Yeah, right. This would be your first clue that the script was written by a woman. And not just any woman, but a woman who clearly comes from a planet where there are no men. Because a woman from this planet who had a functional brain in her head, or a str8 guy, or even a g@y guy writing this script would know that, if two truly str8 guys are actually contemplating having s3x with each other, there had better be a big-@ss pile-o-money involved, or ain’t nobody gonna buy it. We’re just sayin’.)


(Can We get a “h3ll, yeah!” from Our str8 boi readers? ThankYouVeryMuch.)


(Now, having totally bungled the premise, you would think that MissWoman would at least have written a script. But, oh, no, MissWoman was too busy directing and acting in her back alley ab0rtion to bother typing anything up. Entire scenes, sez she proudly, were improvised by the actors. Please permit Us to inform you just how badly improvisation in any form sucks the sh1t out of dead rats. KThxBye.)


(Then, as if that weren’t (subjunctively) all bad enough, the rancid rotting cherry on the diarrhea sundae (that would be a word pixture that We painted there…you’re welcome) was the casting. Even with all the cards stacked against them, We could imagine Steve Carell and Jim C, or Jake and Johnny, somehow pulling this off (that there was a little pun for Our British readers). But, as you may have already guessed from the fact that MissWoman put her own self in the picture, William Morris and CAA weren’t exactly on her speed dial. So into the two male lead roles she casts the two men in all of Hollywood (indeed, possibly in all the world) that you’d least like to see n@ked and/or having s3x, with each other or with anyone else (with the possible exception of Nicolas Cage and Ben Stiller, but maybe that’s just Us). In fact, for the egregious offense of having appeared in this movie, not only should these two improvising @ssclowns be prohibited from ever being n@ked again, not only should they be barred from any future s3x act, they shouldn’t even be allowed to have p3nises.)


(So there. We have hereby saved you ninety minutes of your life. You’re welcome.)


Mercury is now going forwards again - which means that life should start to seem more straight-forward. (Actually, it’s straight-ahead and GAYLY-forward. (Is anyone else having trouble getting rid of the image of Nicolas Cage and Ben Stiller having s3x in a pile of backhair? Just Us? Alrighty then.))


There will be fewer people throwing temper tantrums and/or acting madly confused - gasp! - some recently-elusive people will even start returning their phone calls and emails! (We will believe that when We see it. Although We’ll be giving out some second chances for same later in the day, so be prepared. Yes, We mean YOU.)


For you, Mercury has been going backwards in your TENTH HOUSE (don’t HOLLER! (Holla!))


of career. (Well, We can name one indie film director who won’t be hiring Us any time soon…)


If you've been going round the houses at work, making silly mistakes, enduring upsets with colleagues or co-workers and generally wishing you could get away from it all to a place where you don't need to go to the office, that was Mercury retrograde for you! (Actually, that was the past six months. And this morning, when We woke up to p33 at the time when We used to have to get up to go to work, We were ever-so-glad to go right back to sleep. (After we p33d, mind you. (Which We got out of bed to do. (Just to be clear.))))


(Before We changed it to “p33”, We had initially typed “pee”. Micro$oft Weird™ wanted Us to change it to “peek”. The h3ll?)


Today as Mercury changes directions, you can expect one last blast of mayhem. (which will no doubt be followed by dismayhem. (Heh. See what We did there?))


And after that? (Apres moi, le splooge. (That there is a little French, for Our Sistah Ovella. (Hi, Ovella!)))


It's smoother sailing. (And, hopefully, crunchier peanut butter. Because choosy mothers choose spliff.)


(Why, no, We don’t have any idea what We’re talking about. Thanks so much for asking.)


If you've been rethinking your career strategy over the past few weeks, (Oh, dear. We have neither career nor strategy. Lassie, get help!)


it's almost time to implement your new plans. (To say nothing of Our new pants. (No, really…say nothing.))


Hallelujah! (Lovely. We say, “say nothing”, she says, “hallelujah”. Our world, and welcome to it.)


(YOUR-O-scopes. Now with 37% more backhair. (Eeeeeuuuuwwwww!!!):


http://www.humorscope.com/



cowgrass: a little dab’ll do ya)