I’m feeling transcendental; am I here?

Greetings, Eaves Relieve Ivy Chives---


(Oh, shut up; it’s Monday.)


Here is your horoscope for Monday, April 26, 2010 (Happy belated birfday to Our Manhattanese Sistah, Asphyxia-8, who turned twenty-four yesterday. You may have noticed that there was no Eric’s Daily Horoscope yesterday, or Saturday. Or you may not have noticed. How the h3ll would We know? At any rate, We are back to a five-day publication schedule.):


(But enough of this business talk, you came here, if you came here at all, for the misery, and to have your life be made better by comparison. And We are here to tell you, We have already fired up Our fancy-schmancy new coffeemaker that grinds its own beans. Of course, One’s coffee does not come out so fancy-schmancy when One neglects to use a filter. We’re just sayin’. In still other news, OurHouseWhereWeLive is haunted. Here’s how We finally figgered it out: the bulb in Our befridgedator blew. (It’s been so long since anything around here has blown, We didn’t even understand what had happened at first.) Now, on a scale of household calamities, this particular event hardly registers. Even We, with Our limited motor skills, can replace a burnt-out befridgedator bulb. Without even calling one of Our l3sbian friends. The only difficulty One could possibly foresee in such a task was the absence, naturally, of any replacement befridgedator bulbs in Our house. So imagine Our surprise when, after trundling off to purchase same (a pack of TWO, no less. Because fool Us once, day-old poo; fool Us twice, Katmandu. (Isn’t that a Bob Seger song? (What ever happened to Bob Seger?))), We attempted to replace said befridgedator bulb, and discovered that the first of the two replacement bulbs was defective, and the second one, while not (at least not quite as) defective, wouldn’t light. Hmmm, sez We, and trundled off (is it just Us, or is there a lot of trundling in this story?) to find the befridgedator manual. Now here comes the haunted part. All of Our appliance manuals are kept in the very same drawer (the very same drawer as each other, in case that wasn’t clear). And every time We go to find one of them, they are all there except the one We are looking for. Scary, no?)


(See? HAUNTED!)


(Of course, it’s a good thing We are able to man up and do these home improvement tasks Our Own Self, because it has been well over six months since ContractorBoi (remember him?) stopped returning Our phone calls and emails for reasons unknown to Us. (Well, perhaps not entirely unknown…there is the suspiciously miswired device in Our basement that rings a constant alarm and seems to be counting down toward some sort of explosion. Needless to say (and here We go, saying it), We won’t be recommending HIM any time soon.))


(Of course, ContractorBoi is not the only one who’s stopped returning Our phone calls and emails. It makes Us wonder just what horrible atrocity it is that We’ve perpetrated on these people. And, more to the point, is it the SAME atrocity, or DIFFERENT atrocities? Would it be so d@mn difficult, before cutting off all contact, to send one more missive exclaiming, “How dare you apostrophize my bandicoot?”, thereby letting Us know in what way We have offended them, and possibly enabling Us to keep from offending others in such a way in the future? Sigh.)


(Our Our-O-Scope.)


The universe has arranged for you to cross paths with individuals who'll excite and inspire you. (That depends…inspire US to WHAT?)


Is this foolish? (Does anyone actually say “foolish” anymore? Doesn’t “foolish” sound rather, well, foolish?)


Should you be cautious? (We don’t know about you, but We would be very careful and wary of being too cautious.)


Is it simply time to take one giant step outside the box? (Oh, the h3ll with it…step ON the box! After all, you only live once. (We’re pretty sure Shirley MacLaine doesn’t read Eric’s Daily Horoscope.))


It's all up to you (Great…something else We can totally fu(k up.)


-- but don't doubt your instincts for a single second. (Yeah…’cause they’ve done so well so far.)


You're not interested in flirting, or being flirted with, unless the individual in question has been preapproved and found worthy by a very particular panel of one. (Actually, We’ll pretty much take what We can get.)


You go! (Um, that’s “You go, GURRRRLLLLL!!!”, Missy. Try to keep up.)


Cut yourself a break. (Also, cut yourself the cheese. (Because it’s been quite some time since We’ve had a good old fashioned f@rt joke in here.))


Instead of putting together your usual schedule and feeling bad because you couldn't pull it off, (We dunno ‘bout you, but “pulling it off” is generally ON Our usual schedule.)


give yourself the day off. (Okay, you’ve talked Us into it.)


It's not hedonistic. It's realistic. (It’s also supercalifragilistic. To say nothing of expialidocious. (No, really. Say NOTHING. (Also, it’s ComCastic! (Remind Us to tell you about how Amos (or Andy…We’re not sure) was going door-to-door last week, peddling Comcast upgrades. Seriously. We have two words for you: “Mister Eric”.))))


This moment of fame could well last a lot longer than fifteen minutes. (Well, lord knows this morning has gone on forever so far.)


Keep a pen handy, (Our penis handy.)


(Heh. See what We did there?)


because you'll need it. (Oh, We KNOW!)


Most fans don't have their own. (Well, We ain’t sleepin’ with ‘em then. So there.)


(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:






http://www.humorscope.com




it’s cowgrasstastic!)