Sensitivity, sensitivity, I'm just loaded with that.

Greetings, Epicurean Refuses Indochinese Corndog---


Here is your horoscope for Thursday, March 25, 2010 (Well, Pumpkins, in an effort not to leave you high and dry without your fix of Eric’s Daily Horoscope, We bring you this, which is low and wet. And abridged. (We just typed “effort” as “efoort”. Apparently, We now speak Norwegian. Put that in your lutefisk and smoke it, Ikea. (So take a letter, Ikea….address it to my wife…send a copy to my lawyer…gonna start a new life…(Sorry. (What the h3ll ever happened to R.B. Greaves, anyway? (We just Googled him on Wikipedia…the answer is, Absolutely nothing.))))) It is currently 12:30PM EDHT (Eric’s Daily Horoscope Time…duh!), and We have already arisen at the cr@ck of @ssz, abluted Ourself into a state of Close-Up Readiness, ridden a MyBus, performed G@y Sensitivity Training for the Philadelphia Tourism Something-Or-Another (ask Us about Our black baby doll), stopped by to see Our Sistah Ovella (since We were Being Sensitive in the very building where she works…clearly, she was playing hookey. (Or h00ker. We always get those two games confused)), deposited Our G@y Sensitive check into the bank, and had Our pixture tooken at the DMV. Our @ss is p00ped, to coin a phrase.):


(Some notes on the preceding. (These will be especially helpful to graduate students of World Literature in the future, who will no doubt write countless PhD dissertations dissecting the epistles of Your Oh-So-Humble Scribe.) When We say, “cr@ck of @ssz”, We mean, coincidentally, the exact time We use to arise to betake Our sorry Self to the EAC. However, at no point when We were going to the EAC did We ever ablute Ourself into a state of Close-Up Readiness. In other news, a cute g@y boi who used to ride the MyBus with Us, while not on today’s MyBus, was a participant in the G@y Sensitivity Training. (The phrase “G@y Sensitivity Training”, meanwhile, should have way more esses in it.))


(We trust that, when We said, “ask Us about Our black baby doll”, you knew that We meant a doll that was a baby who was black, not that We were wearing a baby-doll nightgown made of some black material. That would have been awfully inssssenssssitive of Us (although how cute would We look?).)


(Also, on Our way to the DMV to have Our pixture tooken, We found a penny in the street for luck. Which is no doubt why We had Our pixture tooken by the only-semi-retarded DMV pixture tooker, instead of the totally-retarded DMV pixture tooker, or the not-retarded-at-all-but- so-d@mn-cheerful-you-just-know-she’s-a-Jesus-freak-even-though-Jesus-thinks-she-drives-like-she’s-from-Jersey DMV pixture tooker.)


(The pixture, naturally, is hideous. They do offer you the chance to retake it, but who the h3ll wants their driver’s license pixture to look better than they do?)


(Lordy, We’re tired all over again just typing all of that! But here, as your reward for living through it with Us, is this: http://cantyouseeimbusy.com/ It is courtesy of MizGerreGarrett, and is work-safe…in fact, it is designed for all you poor schnooks at WorkJawbs, so you can play computer games and hide them from your boss. (Because it would be foolish to play boss games and hide them from your computer.) Enjoy!)


(In still other news, the T-Shirt Saying Du Jour Au Jus Three French Hens: “The last thing I want to do is hurt you…but it’s still on the list.”)


(Our Our-O-Scope.)


That crowd forming around you consists of fans, (The phrase had better be “ADORING fans”, or We’re not putting on Our black baby doll.)


all of whom are lining up to catch a glimpse of you. (Then they’re gonna be very confused when We throw skrimps at them, aren’t they?)


It's up to you to keep them at bay while still holding on to their everlasting love and admiration. (The phrase is “ENDLESS love”. We know this because there’s an endless song by the same name.)


Smile pretty and wave elegantly. (Or wave a leg gently. But, whatever you do, don’t wave Elmer Gantry. Or bang the drum slowly. Not that that’s what We were talking about. (yeah…like We have any ikea what We’re talking about.))


Remember -- it's elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist. (So We’re j3rking off on them then?)


(Ooops…We have once again fallen into the Vat of Vulgarity. Too bad, so sad, @nal s3x with your dad.)


Your business sense is cunning, (You should see Our linguistics.)


acute (Especially in Our black baby-doll.)


and not to be doubted. (Are you sure about that? (Heh. See what We did there?))


Convey that to the higher-ups and your carriage will await. (See? This is why, way back at the beginning, We had Pumpkins.)


Responsibility for the glass slippers is another matter entirely. (Well, you know what They say: “People who live in glass slippers smell like feet.”)


(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:


http://www.humorscope.com


cowgrass…because you’re worth it)