I had to kiss a lot of frogs to find my grass was green enough ...

Greetings, Elevated Railway Inevitably Collapses---


Here is your horoscope for Friday, February 26, 2010 (Happy birthday to Walt, who turns twenty-four today. Presumably, if he’s anything like the rest of Us, in a snow drift somewhere. Meanwhile, not a particle of snow stuck to anything here till late last night, so the TrashPussies (you will recall yesterday’s emo-punk rock band the TrashPussies, yes? Continuity is everything around here. Except when it…oh, look; a balloon!) could easily have collected Our trash. (Newbies are, at this juncture, wondering why the h3ll an emo-punk rock band would go about collecting people’s trash. And to this We say: you will have to read yesterday’s entry. Eric’s Daily Horoscope is a slow-immersion process. For example, if you throw a frog into a pot of boiling water, it (the frog, that is) will jump out. But if you put a frog in a pot of room-temperature water, put the pot on the stove, and bring it slowly to a boil, the frog will stay in the water until you have frog soup. Next thing ya know, some b1tch from PETA will come along and throw red paint on your grandmother’s fur coat. Because science experiments are stupid. The End.)):


(Now that We reflect upon it, We suspect that’s not a very good way to make frog soup. Because, despite being stupid enough to sit there until the water reaches the boiling point, We are pretty sure the frog will ultimately have an “A-ha!” moment and p00p itself before expiring. Thereby leaving you with frog p00p soup, and a ruined fur coat. And, while frog p00p soup may be a delicacy in China, please reflect upon the fact that these are the same people who brought Us thousand-year-old eggs and sushi. (Thousand-Year-Old Eggs and Sushi is, of course, the heretofore unpublished sequel to the Dr. Seuss classic, Green Eggs and Ham. Would you, could you, in a rickshaw?))


(We were on the very verge of defying all y’all to come up with a rhyme for “rickshaw” when “kickshaw” leapt unbidden into Our cranium. Look it up, then use it three times in a sentence, and watch how fast your doctor adjusts your meds.)


(Meanwhile, the snow continues to fall. It appears to have all drifted onto Our side of the street. It also appears, from the quantities of footprints therein, that they filmed an episode of American Bandstand out there sometime during the night. Perhaps if We just keep typing Eric’s Daily Horoscope until the spring thaw, We can ignore the fact that We shall have to go out and shovel.)


(In case there were still any of you out there in Greater Bloggonia who thought it was somehow Easy To Be Us, We would like to point out that We spent last night dreaming about doing a crossword puzzle. Seriously. This is no mean feat (and also no lean meat, but you probably could have guessed that without Us telling you). Try it your own self…look at, say, the New York Times crossword puzzle for a few minutes without picking up a pencil. Now close your eyes, and start trying to solve it in your head. See?)


(In other news, We unearthed a pair of bunny slippers from the archives to be used in Our recent WaitStaff show. They were not, ultimately, used in said show, but We have yet to return them to the vault. So We are currently typing this wearing bunny slippers. We just thought you ought to know.)


(No, bunny slippers are not the only thing We’re wearing. P3rverts.)


(Our-O-Scope…)


If you glance down and find yourself wearing a pair of ruby slippers, figuratively speaking, at least, don't be disturbed. (We swear to you, We had not even seen this horoscope when We put on the bunny slippers. Which, by the way, bear no resemblance whatsoever to ruby slippers. Although the bunnies’ eyes are orange. And, now that We look at them again, they appear to be possessed by the Devil. Oh, great. Any minute now, We shall start bunny-hopping and be unable to stop. It will probably be weeks before anyone finds Us. Sigh. All this because We killed one d@mn frog.)


Only by clicking your heels together three times can your dreams come true. (Bunny slippers don’t so much click. Also, they don’t have heels. But, speaking of magic, it occurs to Us that perhaps We should have tried kissing the frog, to see if it turned into a prince. Although We are thinking that boiling a prince to death in a pot on One’s stove would have a lot more repercussions than boiling a frog. And would, presumably, result in a lot more p00p. Of course, it would be prince p00p, but still. (See? It’s not easy being Us.))


Sure, it sounds Pollyannaish, (Indeed it does. But even more amazing than that is the fact that Micro$oft Weird™ recognizes “Pollyannaish” as a word.)


(We realize that We are in mid-Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulation) here, but We are pretty sure that We’ve just had a brilliant idea for a series of children’s books, all revolving around prince p00p.)


(We would be remiss if We did not, for those of you who recall Prince Harry N@ked Day from a few weeks back, recall for you a favorite saying of Our friend BoBoB (give Us a shout-out if you’re in here, BoBoB): “I’d eat a mile of his p00p just to see where it came from.”)


(You’re welcome. Oh, look….Kelli’s still blathering on.)


but you won't know if you don't try. (Honey, We know the fire’s hot without sticking Our hand in it. Shut. Up. Kelli.)


Start clicking. (Whose idea was it to put on these bunny slippers, anyway? See what you made Us do?)


Before you call a friend to whine at length about 'how different' your current flame seems to be, think about it: Who's really changed here? (We? Do not “whine”. We complain, at length, in a loud, clear voice, carefully pitched in such a way as to penetrate the background static of lesser mortals talking, but We do not “whine”.)


It may seem that without investing any energy at all, everything is already perfect -- just as you want it to be. (Yeah. It may just seem like exactly that. We’ll have what she’s smoking.)


Wake up and smell the roses. (Scr3w the roses…Prince Harry’s n@ked in a pot on Our stove…We need to convince him We were just giving him a bath before he starts to p00p himself.)


(YOUR-O-Scopes:


http://www.humorscope.com


The best part of waking up is cowgrass in your cup)