Greetings, Elite Rho, Italic Chi---Here is your horoscope for Sunday, February 28, 2010 (And thus endeth February; so it is written, so it shall be dumb. Also, thus spake Zarathustra, but who the h3ll listened, because what kind of a stupid name is Zarathustra?):
(In keeping with Our new tradition of Sunday publication (We are aware that “new tradition” is possibly somewhat of an oxymoron, although everything has to start somewhere. So We trust that you will allow Us to indulge Our passion for neologism (heh…he said “jizm”) and call it an olly-olly-oxen-free-moron, as long as We are careful to distinguish it from freemasons and free radicals. (If you meet someone who can parentheticalize as well as We can, you just bring ‘em right on over. We’ll leave ‘em weak, and begging for less.)), We continue with Our “Sunday Pixtures In A Religious Vein” series. While We find the text moderately clever, We believe that it in no way justifies the degree of smug emanating from what appears to be its author. We are willing to cut him some slack for the 2003-ish facial fungus, as the pixture may well have been taken in 2003. However, there is no excuse for the appalling lack of orthodontia.)
(A Red Sox cap, however, is always cute. (Fourteen Eric’s Daily Horoscope str8 boi readers just fainted dead away upon realizing that We know who the Boston Red Sox are. It is fortunate that they are unconscious, because We fear what would happen to them upon learning that We Our Own Selves Personally actually own a Boston Red Sox cap.))
(And now, from a different corner of the WorldWideInterWebNetz, where people apparently have entirely too much time on their hands (We know…riiiight?), here’s this, which is totally work safe, but, if you’re at work on Sunday, you are a godless heathen, and you are due for a good smiting:)
(Apparently, this video has no intention of ever being uploaded, as We have already waited an hour. It works just fine on Our computer, so We blame Google. Fortunately, We didn't tell you anything about it, so you don't know what you're missing.)
(On a lighter note (la!), here’s this, also work safe. Point your mouse at the blackness and click: http://www.procreo.jp/labo/flower_garden.swf )
(You’ll do anything We tell you to, won’t you?)
(Our-O-Scope…)
You'll instinctively understand what it takes to get along with others, no matter what the circumstances. (What is “an Uzi”, Alex?)
Fortunately, they'll be more than willing to extend you the same courtesy. (So, wait…today Our phone calls will be returned? We suspect We should not hold Our breath…(breaths? (The Royal We is complexicated.))
Needless to say, (Wanna bet she says it anyway?)
entertaining at your place will go extremely well. (Especially since We are all alone. And easily entertained. Perhaps We shall throw Ourselves a surprise party…We’ll get Ourselves out of the house on some pretext, then, when We come back, We’ll jump out from behind the furniture and yell “Surprise!”)
(We’d better wrap this up quickly…We’re gonna need to go buy party hats. (Sssshhhh….don’t tell Us. It’s a surprise!))
(How sad is it that, once We are finally senile (by next Tuesday, at the rate We’re going), that surprise party will actually be possible?)
Expect a pleasant, easy day -- and a chatty, exciting evening. (Too many adjectives…We don’t have a thing to wear!)
Ready to pose the question? (Yes: How much wood would a woodchuck suck if a woodchuck could suck wood? And, more to the point, what is the woodchuck’s hourly rate?)
Okay -- but they might not be ready to deliver the answer. (Hey, as long as Our Chinese food’s still hot when they bling it on they bicycre. Egg foo yung, moo goo gai pan, cream of sum yung gai.)
Much as you'll hate it, wait. (Can We hate while We wait? We’ll kill two birds with one stone that way. Unless, of course, We find bigger stones. Then there’s no telling what We might kill.)
You can restore peace between warring factions, squabbling coworkers and family members with old grudges, as long as you're willing to get involved. (But We are pretty sure We threw out all of Our old grudges when We moved. So presumably We’re going to have to get some new grudges. Sigh. Home Depot, or Loews? We can never find anything in those stupid stores.)
It's time to ask for help. (What the fu(k aisle do you people hide the d@mn grudges in?)
You're not fond of that kind of thing, (Well, you know what They say: Abscess makes the heart grow fondue.)
but you'd better get used to it. Quickly. (Was that a threat? ‘Cause We’ve got an Uzi, and big stones, and We’re not afraid to use ‘em.)
(YOUR-O-Scopes:
say it with cowgrass)
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