That was Uncle Joe, he was movin’ kinda slow…

Greetings, Eligible Respondent Invalidates Contest---


Here is your horoscope for Thursday, March 04, 2010 (Today, Our WorldWideInterWebNetz inform Us, is National Grammar Day. (So why, We ponder parenthetically, does Micro$oft Weird™ want Us to bungle Our subject-verb agreement by changing “inform” to “informs”, when “WorldWideInterWebNetz” are clearly plural? Sigh.) Of course, this means little or nothing to Us, since here at Eric’s Daily Horoscope, every day is National Grammar Day. There is a YouTube video of someone called Grammar Girl singing a National Grammar Day song, involving some wordplay on “March Forth”. Get it? However, as Grammar Girl sings about as well as One might expect someone called “Grammar Girl” to sing, We have spared you. You’re welcome. Now mind your pees and queues. (Micro$oft Weird™ suggests that We change “pees” to “peers”. If We were (subjunctively) to do that, however, We would also be forced to change “queues” to “queers”, thereby creating an entirely new saying: “Now mind your peers and queers, dears.” We’ve no idea what it means, but it’s catchy, no?)):


(We Our Own Selves Personally are much more enamored of the fact that, here in Souf Philly, it is Trash Day, which means that We will finally be rid of about ninety-two weeks’ worth of garbage and recyclables that We have been collecting through all of Our various blizzards. If only trash were (again, subjunctively…when the h3ll is National Subjunctive Day?) worth money, We’d be rich. Of course, if wishes were horses, We’d have a house full of horsesh1t, too.)

(Heh. “A house full of horsesh1t.” We kill Us.)


(So if there were (subjunctively) a National Subjunctive Day, when would it be? Or would giving it a definite date make it impossible to be National Subjunctive Day? If Helen Keller falls down in the forest, is there sound? WAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!)

(Edited to add: speaking of words, this neologism (heh...he said "jizm") just in from Our ex-non-son-in-law IceyPop: "bigocrite: a bigoted hypocrite".)

(Our-O-Scope…)


You feel pushed into making a decision -- a very intimate, very personal decision. (Paper or plastic? Do I want fries with that? Sigh.)


Given your druthers, (Wait. A. Minute. It is National Grammar Day, and Micro$oft Weird™ is gonna sit there and pretend that “druthers” is an actual word? What the Sam Hill? (Heh. See what We did there? (We Our Own Selves were confused for a moment, as We were misremembering the owner of the general store in Hooterville to be Sam Druthers, when, in reality (if One construes Green Acres to bear some resemblance to reality), his name was Sam Drucker. Now there’re two brain cells We’ll never get back.)))


you wouldn't have to make up your mind quite so soon. (Oh, trust Us…Our mind is totally made up. Fictionally fabricated out of whole cloth, as it (subjunctively) were.)


(Don’t mind Us…We’re still reeling from the fact that Micro$oft Weird™ is pretending that Hooterville isn’t real.)


No, it's not fair. (Exactly. So We shall be holding Our breath till We turn blue until further notice.)


But if you opt to fold your arms and say, 'Let me think about it,' this opportunity could pass you by. (Suppose We uncross Our legs and say, “Dive right in, Bay-Bee; the water is fine!” Then what happens?)


(How could Hooterville not be real? Both Green Acres and Petticoat Junction took place there. Haven’t you ever heard of reality television? Jeebus.)


Dreams are lovely -- especially when you meet someone who seems to be the missing link. (Oddly enough, The Missing Link bears little resemblance to the man of Our dreams. Go figger.)


The key phrase here, however, is 'seems to be.' (Actually, the key phrase is “Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp”, but if they don’t think Hooterville is real, how are We ever gonna talk ‘em into Mata Hairy?)


If it sounds, smells or looks like trouble, (We’ll wind up dating it in no time?)


walk the other way. (What, like an Egyptian?)


You're a magnet, (And you’re an @sshat. What’s it to ya?)


and you need to be picky about what you attract. (Opposites, no doubt. What’s the opposite of Us? Them. Hmm…this doesn’t bode well. (That was a little linguistic humor…some cunning linguistics, if you will. Or even if you won’t. Eat your g0dd@mn linguini, there are children in India who don’t have any pasta!))


(Sorry.)


They're pushing hard for you to sign on the dotted line, and not all that anxious for you to explore the fine print. (Just wait till We show them Our fine washables.)


Call a trusted, qualified friend to look things over. (Day-um! Our friend has some serious adjectives attached! Bet he’s wearin’ a suit, too.)


(We have no idea what just happened. Try to act natural.)


(YOUR-O-Scopes:


http://www.humorscope.com


If you think it’s butter, butt it’s snot, it’s cowgrass)