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Friday, May 28, 2010

Allons enfants de la Patrie, le jour de gloire est arrive!

Greetings, English Restaurant Introduces Crumpets---

Here is your horoscope for Friday, May 28, 2010 (Happy Weekend to Juan Anne Dahl! We are told it’s a holiday weekend, so y’all won’t be workin’ Monday. Us neither. We will, however, be working today, writing an application for the WaitStaff to appear in the Wilmington Fringe Festival. (For Our far-flung, forever-young, well-hung readers (including William Hung (y’all didn’t even know We knew who that was, didja? We got Our finger on the pulse, Bay-Bee!)), that’s Wilmington, DELAWARE. Wilmington being one o’ them city names that pops up in d@mn near every state. Much like Springfield, which may actually occur in all fifty states. H3ll, even Philadelphia happens in Mississippi. (One types “Mississippi” so rarely…do all y’all spell it out as you type it, too? (Oh, YOU know what We’re talkin’ about…”em-eye-ESS-ESS-eye-ESS-ESS-eye-PEE-PEE-eye”. (Heh. We said “pee-pee”.))))):

(Jeebus Cripes, geography is boring! In other news, speaking of the far-flung, forever-young, and well-hung, We spoke to one of ‘em on the phone last night (now, of course, We can’t say who, as he might be embarrassed (people often don’t like others to know the extent to which they’ve been flung)). Shortly thereafter, We noticed that his SitOnMyFaceBook status said something about “French homework”. First of all, obviously, all y’all are jealous that someone of Our advanced years actually speaks to people who still have homework. That, for those who have always wondered, is what keeps Us young. Or regular. One of those. At any rate, that’s not why We brought that up. We were intrigued by the concept of “French homework”, and wondered just what exactly it could be. Eat a croissant? Contemplate One’s f0reskin? Scr3w somebody on the bidet? Ovella, help Us out here.)

(Having already mentioned the WaitStaff, We would be remiss not to tell you that Our Fringe show is entitled The Real Housewives Of South Philly. And We would be SwissMiss not to tell you that first, We will be doing Christmas in July: A Surprise Birthday Party For Jesus, both at World Café Live and at L’Etage. (That second show We mentioned will be in July. Stay tuned for further details.))

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

Oh, there's just no stopping you now. (How many people just sang “Ain’t no stoppin’ Us now?” (How many of you sang the French national anthem, just to be contrary? (Do We have the funniest friends, or what? (See? Y’all said “or what?”, thus proving Our point.)))

(Our comedies…see how complexicated they are.)

No one will want to, and you won't have even the slightest inclination to do it for yourself. (Because sistahs are doin’ it fo’ theyselves. (Don’t fight the funk, people.))

That said, you should probably be on guard against being excessive. (If We’ve told you once, We’ve told you a million times, don’t exaggerate.)

You should -- but you won't be. (Clearly, this sentence refers back to something Kelli said earlier. As though We had committed her pathetic brain poots to memory or something. (“Poots”, of course was a reference to Our discussion of yesterday. Because We remember the pearls We cast before the swine.))

Better take tomorrow off right now. (Okey-dokey-artichokey.)

Anyone who comes across as bold, brazen or less likely than most to buckle under extraordinary pressure will absolutely capture your attention. (Especially if they are an article.)

(We shall pause here, while those who went to Catholic school stop laughing.)

That, and your libido. (Okay, sentences? Have verbs.)

(Heh. See what We did there?)

It's time to stop putting energy into those little things that have kept you and a coworker from being mutually productive. (We were desperately hoping that “mutually productive” wasn’t one o’ them euphemism thingies, until We realized it makes no difference, because We no longer have coworkers.)

You're on the same team. (And there’s no “I” in team. There’s also no “I” in @sshole. So if some @sshole tells you there’s no “I” in team, tell him, “No, but there’s a number of ‘em in “Mississippi”… em-eye-ESS-ESS-eye-ESS-ESS-eye-PEE-PEE-eye!”)

(Heh. We said “pee-pee” again.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

Snap! Crackle! Pop! Rice cowgrass)

Thursday, May 27, 2010

When you’re a poot, you’re a poot all the way

Greetings, Evacuating Repeatedly Induces Colitis---

Here is your horoscope for Thursday, May 27, 2010 (Happy birthday to Deb, who turns twenty-four today. So is it hot out, or what? (Here’s a hint: if you said, “or what?”, you’re a ‘tard. Or possibly a former Alaskan governor.) In honor of summer, which is rapidly approaching and yet oddly seems already to be here, here are some of everybody’s favorite Manhattanonians headed for some fun-in-the-sun on Fire Island to the tune of a little ditty from Funny Girl by way of Glee in an Eric’s Daily Horoscope musical number (totally work-safe (Jeebus Cripes, it’s Funny Girl. By way of Glee. How dirty could it be?) ) ):

(Meanwhile, We are stubbornly refusing to turn on Our central air until Memorial Day (when it will no doubt be fourteen degrees below zero, and, consequently, a moot point (but hopefully not a moist poot, which would be a wh0re of another color)).)

(Ever fascinated by etymology as We are (etymology, for those who aren’t so good with words (hi, Gregory G0DD@MN! G.) is the one that isn’t about bugs), We had to Google “poot” on Wikipedia to be sure We were using it properly. Having found an extremely reliable and authoritative source ( ), We discovered that “poot” is predominantly used as a polite euphemism for “f@rt”. Some traditionalists insist that it is actually a combination of another polite euphemism for “f@rt” (“toot”) and “poop” and that it therefore actually means a WET f@rt (altogether now: “Who’s got a comb?”), which would render Our “moist poot” redundant, had We (subjunctively) been using “poot” in its most common sense (funny how those two words appearing next to each other in this sentence don’t mean at all what they usually mean when One sees them together. Not, of course, so much “funny: ha-ha” as “funny: I just pooted six ears of baby corn, and I don’t even eat Chinese food.”)).

(We are going to break up what is threatening to become a Jeff Stryker’s p3nis-sized paragraph by pointing out that Micro$oft Weird™ has placed a blue “incorrect word choice” squiggle under “ears” in the preceding sentence. It would like Us to change it to “I just pooted six YEARS of baby corn”. Jigga WHAT? Also, perhaps you should see your pootologist.)

(Heh. “Pootologist”. We kill Us.)

(At any rate, We were not using “poot” to mean “shart”. (Weren't the Poots and the Sharts the gang names in West Side Story? (We only asked that in case you forgot We were g@y.)) We thought it was a slang term for female genitalia, and, indeed, Our reference bears Us out, although it claims that “poot” is short for “putang”, which would seem to Us to either be a bastardization of “p00ntang”, or possibly Chinese for “c00ter”.)

(She does research by the seashore.)


(Our Our-O-Scope.)

You've seen the movie where the hero jumps from the bridge to the top of a speeding train, then chases and neatly nabs the soon-to-be-very-sorry bad guy? (No.)

Well, you may not be doing any train-leaping, but it still wouldn't be wise to mess with you. (And yet, people do it, on a daily basis. We have yet to meet three wise men. Although We are pretty sure We have turned back into a virgin.)

After weeks of imploring a certain someone for five teeny, tiny minutes together, they've unexpectedly suggested an entire evening. Tonight. (Don’t mind if We do.)

Unfortunately, your place is a mess. (To say nothing of Our face. (Seriously…the less said, the better.))

So what to do? (We still haven’t figgered out who this “certain someone” is, so We’re not even sure WHO to do.)

Duh -- have dinner out. (Surely We are not alone in refusing to accept advice that starts with the word “duh”?)

Admit your errors. (We thought We had made an error once, but We were mistaken.)

Smile, nod and shrug your shoulders -- a lot. (Obviously, you’ve been spying on Our exercise regimen.)

Then go back to your room, lock yourself in a closet and have a tantrum, with no expletives deleted. (Have you seen the size of Our @ssz lately? We’ll be having the DIET Tantrum™, ThankYouVeryMuch.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

cowgrass…great taste, less filling)

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Wild, wild horses couldn’t drag me away

Greetings, Equine Romance Involving Catherinethegreat---

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, May 26, 2010 (Happy Hump The Horsie Day! Originally, Our “Greetings” read “Equine Romance Involving Catherine”, but We changed “Catherine” to “Catherinethegreat” lest the non-historically savvy amongst you think We were calling OurCatherine a horsefu(ker. We do not generally call people horsefu(kers unless We stumble upon them in the actual act of fu(king (or being fu(ked by) a horse. (Pigfu(ker, on the other hand, We tend to call people with reckless abandon, no matter who or what they are or are not fu(king (or being fu(ked by) at the moment. And don’t even get Us STARTED on roachfu(kers, as We could tell stories about a roach motel that would curl your hair.) OurCatherine is, of course, a Faithful Reader of Eric’s Daily Horoscope AND an ardent WaitStaff fan…who could ask for anything more? (Apropos of nothing, Catherine, are you working at the restaurant on Sunday?)):

(Whew! That’s a whole lotta stuff about b3stiality! (I used to be into S&M, necrophilia, and bestiality, but then I realized I was just beating a dead horse.))

(We just love that joke, and We haven’t told it in such a long time. (So didja miss Us yesterday? We spent the day being ssssssssensitive at the Independence Visitors Center, teaching tourist wranglers to handle The G@ys, then We spent the evening being focussssed, with a group. Heigh-ho, the glamorous life! (Who you callin’ “ho”?)))

(Speaking of hos, horses, and horsehumping hos, We just Googled “Catherine the Great” on Wikipedia to be sure We had fully exhausted the horsefu(king subject. We were somewhat taken aback to discover that, after typing “Catherine”, Catherine Zeta-Jones had a higher Google ranking than Catherine the Great. What is this world coming to when some two-bit actress gets more attention than a woman who was Empress of Russia and a champion horsefu(ker?)

(This just in, from British punk rock band Male Bonding. You won’t see a band from THIS side of the pond making a video like this any time soon. )

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

You can buy a lucky horseshoe (But who would fu(k a horse with only three shoes? Doesn’t sound very lucky to Us.)

or toss a coin in the wishing well, (Is Kelli reading Our mail?)

but you really don't have to. (But what if We already did? Since you waited the whole way to the end of the sentence to tell Us We didn’t have to. B1tch.)

Luck is on your side already, (Luck is also being a lady tonight. Of course, Luck may have never been a lady to begin with, so if Luck’s being a lady tonight, We are thinking that Luck is a drag queen. Wonder if Frank Sinatra ever figgered THAT out?)

(For Our str8 boi readers, that was a little musical theatre joke, based on lyrics from Guys and Dolls, and…oh, never mind.)

and there'll be no turning it away, provided you don't let yourself be enticed by something -- or someone -- that's not legit. (Leggit my eggit.)

If it's strictly taboo, (We’ve already had horsefu(king, pigfu(king, and roachfu(king; how much more taboo do you want We should get?)

completely forbidden or something that no one you're related to would even consider for a millisecond, you'll be game -- if not eager -- to try it. (You had Us confused there for a second. Because “g@y if not meager” was Our nickname in high school. But, on closer examination, that’s not what you said. Moving on.)

Stop worrying about it. (We said, “moving on.” Do you not listen?)

Every now and then, it's time to give in to total hedonism. (Funny, that’s what the horse said.)

(We would make a Mister Ed joke, but then you would think We were old.)

So go ahead. (Suddenly, there’s a whole new meaning to “horse head in your bed.”)

(Heh. We kill Us.)

Eat, drink and make merry. (It was Christmastime, and everyone was making Merry. So she went home.)

You can feel recuperate tomorrow. (And still Kelli has no editor. We have said repeatedly that We would do it for a dollar. (Of course, if We recall correctly, We weren’t talking about editing at the time.))

It's not as much as you deserve, (But then, what is?)

but you can certainly expect a bit more in your paycheck soon. (The aforementioned dollar would be more than Our paycheck.)

No fair jumping the gun, though. (Just like that wacky Mother Superior.)

Wait and see. (No. Horsefu(ker.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

cowgrass…manly, yes, but I like it too)

Monday, May 24, 2010

Fascinatin’ rhythm, I’m all a-quiver

Greetings, Entrails Reading Indicates Constipation---

Here is your horoscope for Monday, May 24, 2010 (Happy Monday to all of Our readers out there in MondayLand. As you can tell from Our Eric’s Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Yves St. Laurent Charles de Gaulle Pepe LePew CoCo Puffs Chanel, today was supposed to be “Put your big girl panties on and deal with it” Day here at the Mouseketeers’ Club. (Although imagining the critter in the pixture wearing panties is just a little beyond Our scope at this juncture. (You do realize that “scope” in that particular sentence does NOT refer to Eric’s Daily Horoscope; if it did, it would be “’scope”. And realizing that, you have probably gone on to wondering why, if it’s “pixture”, it’s not also “junxture”. And henceforth, it shall be.)) At any rate, We got a late start today after some gastrointestinal ructions caused by a Rancid Banana Incident (that’ll teach you not to show up where We tell you to), so We are currently not wearing any panties at all, Big Girl or otherwise. (We were about to say that We hoped that viZZZualizing that made your morning, when We noticed that it had slipped, suddenly, into afternoon. Quel frommage.) So “Put your big girl panties on and deal with it” Day will just have to be tomorrow, which is just as well, considering that Our panties say “Tuesday” on them. (Which is particularly alarming to people on Fridays; We have no idea why.)):

(So Lost ended. We were most taken aback by the number of jackasses who were apparently spending their first day on the WorldWideInterWebNetz, busily spoiling the thing before it was even over on the East Coast. Really, people? Your SitOnMyFaceBook statuses? (Stati? Stalactite, stalagmite, Stalag 17…) As though somehow, out of the millions of Us who were watching, YOUR opinion of the finale was somehow definitive. Dream on, puny mortals. Who do you think you are, Eric’s Daily Horoscope?)

(Speaking of stupid people, Creative ViZZZualizationas and Daily Affirmations remind US of this (safe for work):

(Which, in turn, reminds Our friends at Dr. CoolSex Comedy of this (also safe for work)):

(This just in: piranhas don’t kill people; people kill people.)

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

Before you decide there's no way you could ever possibly do what 'they' have asked of you, take a moment to think about exactly what it involves. (Well, if it involves panty-wearing, it ain’t happenin’.)

You may be so frustrated with past issues (To say nothing of passed tissues, post fissures, and pastiche shoes. (You say “pistachio”, We say “nuts”; let’s call the whole thing off.))


that you aren't able to clearly see your present capabilities. (Wait…there are presents? And it’s not even Our birthday…)

Explain to whoever you're supposed to be seeing tonight that it's just not possible -- and not because you don't want to be there. (Ah, but We are aiding and abetting at the teaching of sketch comedy tonight. Passing on Our wit and wisdom to a new generation, as it (subjunctively) were. (For those whose translation skills are not quite as finely honed as they might be, the preceding two sentences read: “cute college bois”.))

(Much like the other day’s (very fleeting) “good mood”, “those whose” also looks like it should rhyme but doesn’t. Sigh.)

Reschedule, and apologize very sweetly. (So We’re guessing that “too bad, so sad, @nal s3x with your dad” won’t cut it?)

Maybe some roses are in order? (Someone gave Us roses once. We wound up flat on Our back with Our legs in the air. Our friends all said, “Honey, ain’t you got a VASE?”)


Stop scowling at yourself in the mirror. (This is Our face. This is Our face on Midol™. Any questions?)

You're fine, just the way you are. (Oh, goody. So Billy Joel loves Us.)

If you can't make yourself believe that after several tries, ask an objective friend for their opinion. (We are much more likely to ask an opinionated friend for their objections.)

Stop wondering what you could possibly have done differently. (We doubt We could even do it the same.)

You can't undo what's been done. (But can you redo what’s been undone? Undulating donations, do-rag the trombone.)


Besides, everything happens for a reason. Accept it all unconditionally. (See above: Creative ViZZZualization/Daily Affirmation.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

cowgrass…it does a body good)

Friday, May 21, 2010

Then you know you doin’ the funky chicken

Greetings, Eggplant Remoulade Intrigues Chef---

Here is your horoscope for Friday, May 21, 2010 (We don’t exactly remember where We came across (heh) today’s Eric’s Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Foie Gras Cette La Faux Pas Candle-La-Bra George Bernard Shaw, but We certainly find it deeply disturbing. For one thing, what the h3ll kind of wall treatment is that? And, for another, whose black shawl is that on the bed?):

(Not to mention the chickenfu(ker. (Well, technically, We suppose, chickenfu(kEE. (Hmmm…since putting it that way, We are given to contemplation of the gentleman in the pixture as a young Colonel Sanders. Suddenly, We have an entirely new perspective.)))

(Changing the subject (because, really, there’s only so much chickenfu(king One can take), you know how you need to have your glasses to find your glasses? (If you are too young to know what We are talking about, go fu(k a chicken; grown folks are talking.) Well, We have now discovered that you need a cup of coffee in order to make coffee properly. Otherwise, you might do something brilliant like, oh, say, not use a filter. Oh, and in case you were wondering what that rattling noise in Our garbage disposal was? That would be the flipperty gizmo from the coffeemaker that enables One to take the pot off the burner before the coffee is done making itself.)

(Is Our life fascinating, or what? (That little noise you just heard was both of Our Faithful Readers saying, “Or what.” (Of course, who else’s Daily Horoscope has George Bernard Shaw and Colonel Sanders as labels on the same day? Let’s just throw in Johnny Depp for a wacky, zany, madcap threesome, shall We? Thereby ensuring that the chicken in question is well and truly fu(ked.)))

(Meanwhile, this just in courtesy of Our LOretta, for those of you who don’t believe that We have been doing jawbs, and that We are sssssssensitive: We are not exactly sure why We appear so deformed (and so LARGE), but just look how well We are protecting Our little black baby from evildoers.)

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

You may not win the Nobel Peace Prize, (Oh, d@mn. And that was at the top of Our to-do list for today.)

but your ability to come up with unique, (Sorry to interrupt what is no doubt a thought of incomparable brilliance, Kell-meister, but We were just suddenly struck by what a, dare We say, UNIQUE word “unique” is. If it were (subjunctively) of English origin, it would clearly mean “not ique”. Which would render it somewhat useless, since “ique” doesn’t actually mean anything and, consequently, doesn’t require things to be designated as its opposite. But “unique” comes to Us by way of Ze Frawnch (why, oh, why is Our Sistah Ovella not here for this?), for whom the suffix “-ique” means “like, or akin to”. For example, the name “Monique”, containing, as it does, the French Jamaican word for “man” and the suffix “-ique”, means “like a man”. “Pique” means “like a pee”. And “unique” means “like the UN”, and We think We can all agree that there’s nothing quite like the UN. Also, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition. Thus endeth today’s lesson.)

(Oh, is Kelli still talking?)

ingenious solutions to ancient personality conflicts could easily earn you an honorary mention at the very least. (Whatevs. We lost the thread.)

Of course, even if you are nominated, you'll be far too modest to accept. (But it;’s an honor just to be marinated.)

Trying to hide your feelings from someone? (No. Feel free to cast your seed on a stone if the need for a stone should be felt.)


Well, then, run like the wind, (But do not break like the wind, or they’ll know exactly how you feel. And what you had for lunch.)

and avoid them at all costs. (How many of all y’all just laughed so hard that you f@rted? (Wet f@rt...who’s got a comb?))

If you happen to catch their eye, there'll be no secrets. (Also, you’ll be standing there with their eye in your hand, and EEEUUUWWW!!!)

They say that to the victor goes the spoils (Who the fu(k is this “Victor” guy?)-- but they also say that pride goes before a fall. (Actually, They say “goeth”. Don’t They? How unique of Them. Chickenfu(kers.)

What a decision! (Why does that feel as though it should have been preceded by “Oy”?)

How about accepting the spoils without being smug? (How about accepting the poils without being a mug? (Suddenly, We’re doing Guys and Dolls. (If you got that joke, you are really, really g@y. And probably also old. But not necessarily in that order.)))

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:’s finger-lickin’ good)

Thursday, May 20, 2010

You put de lime in de coconut…

(Orange you glad We didn’t say “Banana”? (Especially after yesterday’s atrocities…))

Greetings, Elephants Repeatedly Inspire Comedy---

Here is your horoscope for Thursday, May 20, 2010 (Well, last night was certainly a vast improvement, as many friends descended upon L’Etage to see just exactly how We wound up with a banana in Our bananacreampiehole. (Did it throw you that We made that all one word? Sound it out…We’ll wait. (This is your brain; this is your brain HookedOnPhonics. Any questions?))):

(Meanwhile, the rest of all y’all have two more chances to watch Us become intimately acquainted with random tropical fruits tonight at 8PM or Sunday, May 23rd, at 7PM at L’Etage Cabaret at 6th and Bainbridge Streets. The Mother Of All Sketch Comedy Shows. You can get tickets HERE. And don’t think We’re gonna stop plugging Ourselves (did that come out wrong?) then, because We are already committed (or at least We should be) to Christmas in July, for one show at World Café Live and two shows at L’Etage, not to mention (and yet here We go mentioning it) Our Fringe Festival show, The Real Housewives Of South Philly.)

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

(If you are, as We are, an observant person, you will note that today’s KelliScope begins and ends with the same word (“smile”, just so you don’t get distracted and wander off). It will, however, take more evidence than this to convince Us that said KelliScope wasn’t typed by some quantity of chimpanzees at some quantity of typewriters.)

Smile, and prepare for a very enthusiastic yes from the person you've been working up the courage to ask a certain favor of. (Never use a preposition to end a sentence with, B1tch.)

(Heh. See what We did there?)

Oh, and if it's not a favor? (We’ve got the fever for the flavor of a Pringles™. (Actually, it has been years (probably actually decades) since We’ve had a Pringles™ in Our bananacreampiehole (and, parenthetically, probably equally long since We’ve had bananacreampie in there, but We digress), and yet We are still able to marvel at how a the snack food industry was so perfectly able to capture the flavor of that stuff that you floss out from in between your teeth.))

Expect an even more enthusiastic yes. (Oh, please. We are so old, enfeebled, and out of the loop, We would settle for a tepid mayhaps.)

(We are pretty sure there’s a joke to be had from “tepid mayhaps”, but We’re not quite sure what it is. Plus, We can’t just be giving them all away…why would you buy the cow if you can get the bananacreampie for free?)

(We are just gonna pause here for a mo-mo and let all y’all run wild with alternative pronunciations for “bananacreampiehole”.)

(There…wasn’t that fun?)

Celebrate privately for now. (You realize, naturally, that We intend to take “privately” as meaning “with one’s privates”? KThxBye.)

You can alert the media in a week or so. (Although it would be much more fun to alert Wikipedia in a kimono, no?)

(It is all so much easier once One accepts that One has no idea what the fu(k One is talking about.)

(Meanwhile in keeping with Our tropical fruit theme, Carmen Miranda. (Because otherwise, We have no label for today.))

You don't have time for lunch? Or dinner? Better make time. (Oh, sure. Because Our @ss doesn’t already eclipse the sun.)

No matter how little it may be, it's something. (That’s what she said.)

Besides, it's true what they say about quality vs. quantity. (The bigger the better the more in the sweatpants?)

You're confident, but not quite so confident that you're ready to make demands. (And yet the phrase “small, unmarked bills” hovers on the lips of Our very bananacreampiehole…)

You know you're perfect for the job. (Now if We just knew what the job was.)

You can do it. (Yes We can.)

Get busy. (Also, get jiggy widdit.)

Oh, and smile. (What, and let them cram the banana in sideways?)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

cowgrass…betcha can’t eat just one)

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Shirley, Shirley, Bo Birley, Banana Fana Fo Firley

Greetings, Ethiopians Retroactively Impeach Chimpanzee---

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, May 19, 2010 (Today’s Eric’s Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Georges Pompidou Madame Pompadour Pomp et Circumstance is clearly from the We Will Do Anything For A Laugh Department. We will give you three more chances to see just exactly how We got Ourselves into this particular picklish predicament: tonight and Thursday, May 19th and 20th at 8PM or Sunday, May 23rd, at 7PM at L'Etage Cabaret at 6th and Bainbridge Streets. The Mother Of All Sketch Comedy Shows. You can get tickets here. NOW. (Here’s a hint: it involves Tennessee Williams, and an orangutan. Because We? Do classy sketch comedy.))

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

Your great energy (Have We met?)

inspires you to try some new physical activity, (Let’s get physical, physical…)

be it exercise, play or something creative. (How do you spell “horizontal mambo”? (Actually, the phrase “how do you spell…” doesn’t work so well in writing, because by the time you’re asked to answer the question, We’ve already shown you how We spell whatever it is, and, presumably, We have spelled it correctly. So, like most human endeavor, asking said question in writing is utterly futile. Sigh.))

It’s a great time to work toward better fitness, if that appeals to you. (Oh, silly Us! Here We were, working Our way toward better FATness. In fact, We venture to say We have worked Our way to the BEST fatness. (“Fatness” is a peculiar word, no? We were all prepared for Micro$oft Weird™ to deny its very wordiness. Until We remembered the Fat Ness Monster. AKA Kirstie Alley.))

It’s just one of those crazy days (It is, isn’t it? In fact, it’s like the whole d@mn week went off its meds.)

— the kind when anything can happen! (Except never to Us.)

You’re always game for the unexpected, (There’s just nothing like a good Spanish Inquisition. (Actually, their omelettes aren’t bad, either.))

especially if it involves some thrills, (Also, frills, pills, and espadrilles.)


and you can smell the excitement in the air when you wake up. (I love the smell of Maypo™ in the morning. (That, of course, is the famous quote from the fillum Apocalypse Now. It is unclear to Us why he said “Maypo™”, although he is obviously not the sort of character to be enamored of Cream of Wheat™. Always after me Lucky Charms™; they’re plastically suspicious.))

Following your bliss has never really been a problem — for you, anyway. (Hey, who p1ssed on Our bliss?)

Still, how do you identify the right bliss to follow? (Wait…there’s more than one?)

The right answer could clear up a whole bunch of troublesome romantic puzzles. (Jigsaw or crossword? (There’s actually a pretty funny joke in there, but setting it up would be positively exhausting. So We’re gonna pass. Because what have YOU done for US lately?))

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

I am a cowgrass banana, and I’m here to say, I am the best banana in the world today)

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Listen to Jesus, Jimmy…just say “No” to the marihuana.

Greetings, Egress Regressively Ingresses Congress---

(It doesn’t matter how many times you read it, it still won’t make any sense. Move on, already.)

Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, May 18, 2010 (Happy birthday to Gregory G0DD@MN! G., who turns twenty-four today somewhere on the outskirts (ooooh!) of Greater Bostonia in the Witch City. (Does “outskirts” sound dirty to you? Does “inskirts” sound dirtier? (Clearly, We have a career ahead writing str8 p0rn. That is, when We’re not busy doing g@y sensitivity training for folks in the hospitality industry. Which is where We were yesterday morning at the cr@ck of @ss, and why there was no Eric’s Daily Horoscope yesterday. (We know you missed Us; We could hear you wailing, gnashing your teeth, and beating your breasts. (Your battered breasts could not be reached for comment. (As We typed that, We started thinking of “battered breasts” as “breasts covered with batter”. Now We are hungry for chicken. Also, all of Our str8 boi readers just came in their pants. (You’re welcome.))))))):

(Seven, count ‘em, SEVEN parentheticals! Obviously, We are back with a vengeance. Of course, it is only fitting that We should be a cunning linguist on Gregory GD G.’s natal anniversary. (There was going to be a really clever joke in there, but We got distracted by something shiny and forgot what it was. Fu(king Alzheimers.))

(We seem to recall asking on Friday how many of you We were going to see at Our show on Sunday. The answer, apparently, was none. Which is better, presumably, than the answer being “nun”, but not by much. So We’ll give you three more chances: Wednesday and Thursday, May 19th and 20th at 8PM or Sunday, May 23rd, at 7PM at L’Etage Cabaret at 6th and Bainbridge Streets. The Mother Of All Sketch Comedy Shows. You can get tickets here. NOW.)

(What else have We been up to, you ask? How nice of you to pretend to care. On Friday, We watched the kidz at Drexel perform Reefer Madness. On Saturday, We went to G@y Bingo, where the Real Housewives of Souf Philly did a promo for the WaitStaff show, and We were accosted by a drunken drag queen for using Our cell phone. On Sunday, We did the show that none of you saw, and on Monday, We did the aforementioned g@y sensitivity training (and trust Us, We are ever-so-sensitive at 5:30 in the morning) and assisted at MizGerreGarrett’s sketch comedy class in the evening. Obviously, We are a busy active woman with an overactive bladder. We are pretty sure We just found Jimmy Hoffa in Our Depends™. (What was Jimmy Hoffa doing in Our Depends™, you ask? The backstroke.))

(And what have YOU been up to? Oh, who gives a sh1t.)

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

Ordinary activities will be a bit trickier than usual, (We certainly hope that means that tricky activities will be more ordinary.)

leaving you with only one choice: improvise. (We do a sketch about improv in the WaitStaff show. It is entirely scripted. Because improv isn’t funny.)

Stop obsessing about what seems to be a lack of options. (We lack so many things. We are, for instance, so poor that We can barely pay attention.)

(We had a dream last night about other people cooking in Our kitchen. Someone left a pot of broccoli boiling on Our stove until it burned to a crisp. We couldn’t find any of Our dishes. We have no idea what any of this was about, but what the h3ll 3ver happened to good old fashioned s3x dreams?)

Focus on the most bizarre, outrageous solution possible -- it could very well end up being the right one. (We dare not even contemplate what this might actually mean if it were (subjunctively) true.)

It's not them (Also, it’s not you; it’s me and you.)

-- it's that you're not happy with yourself right now. (Really? So what are We gonna do, break up with Us?)

Your mission is to make them understand that when you feel better, you'll be far more affectionate. (As always, if you or any of your IM Force are caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This horoscope will self-destruct in five seconds.)

(Why would anybody care what somebody’s secretary had to say about anything?)

The way you usually do things just won't work now. (Fine. How ‘bout We do something in a good mood, with a man?)

(It strikes Us that “good mood” looks like it should rhyme, but, of course, doesn’t. How that affects Our mood remains to be seen.)

Your only option is to think of something new -- which won't be a problem. (Well, We should certainly hope that if We expend all the energy of thinking up something newe, it won’t be a new PROBLEM. Jeebus.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

if you’ve got a passion for cowgrass, and you’ve got a craving for saving)

Friday, May 14, 2010

Till some button-pushin’ cowboy played that love song

Greetings, Energetic Rapist Impregnates Cheetah---

Here is your horoscope for Friday, May 14, 2010 (We would like to point out that We have been very kindly sparing you long drawn-out descriptions of Our dreams of late, which have been complexicated and overplotted to say the least. We should just mention, however, that during last night’s opus, which involved some sort of corporate intrigue in an office setting, We were transferring data from one computer to another for some dire reason of vital necessity to the realm. And clutched in Our very paws was the medium for said transfer: a vinyl 33 1/3 LP record. To Our credit, We did not wake up immediately upon noting the absurdity of same. We did, however, fast-forward through the plot past the point at which We attempted to shove said record album into some computerian orifice.):

(It is clearly not easy being Us.)

(Today’s Eric’s Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Petit Pois Bon Soir Franchot Tone (Franchot Tone?!? How does He THINK of these things?) is, of course, Jesus and his mom, Mrs. Mary MotherOfGod, in the WaitStaff Christmas show. They will be making a return appearance in the upcoming show, The Mother Of All Sketch Comedy Shows, on Sundays, May 16th and 23rd, at 7PM, and Wednesday and Thursday, May 19th and 20that 8PM at L’Etage Cabaret at 6th and Bainbridge Streets. You can get tickets here. NOW.)

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

Try to avoid the tiny details today — though that may be easier said than done. (We are now trying, naturally, to think of something that would NOT be easier said than done. Specifically, something that would be easier DONE than SAID. For some reason, We keep thinking Franchot Tone.)

Your mind is on the big picture right now, and for good reason. (Is it the big picture that matches the couch?)

Let others take care of paying the bills for a while! (Did We find Ourseff a SugarBaby while We weren’t looking? (A SugarBaby, for you newbs in da house, is like a SugarDaddy, except young and cute.))

Someone is sending you clear signals right now, and try as you might, it’s impossible to deny what’s going on here. (Yes, ladies and genitals, it’s The Decline And Fall Of Western Civilization As We Know It.)

You’re definitely receiving a romantic love vibe, (Oh. We thought that was gas.)

and you may not quite be sure what to do about it. (That’s not true. We hear it’s like riding a bicycle. With the seat taken off.)

Go ahead and enjoy the positive attention — it’s always nice to feel wanted. (We’ll just sit here and hold Our breath.)

You may not exactly be on fire this morning, (Especially considering that it’s already this afternoon.)

so give yourself a little extra time to heat up. (Will do, mildew. Roger Wilco, Sergeant Bilko. (What the fu(k are We talking about?))

By late this afternoon, not to mention this evening, you’re likely to be generating some serious heat. (Obviously, you have not perused Our schedule recently. We have no time for hot flashes until next week.)

(Happy Weekend! (How many of you will We see on Sunday?))

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:


Thursday, May 13, 2010

Jeebus loves me, this I know; still, I called up Rent-A-Ho

Greetings, Erect Reject Injects Collector---

Here is your horoscope for Thursday, May 13, 2010 (So first up, a little cartoon about the goings-on in Nazi Germany, now known as Arizona. And below, a video about the latest Christian wingnut to be caught with his pants down. (NOT safe for work.) Ya know, here in what used to be the great United States of America, We support your right to believe in the Tooth Fairy if you want to. We used to, however, be very clear that We weren’t going to have any parts of your Tooth Fairy running Our country. On the other hand, maybe We shouldn’t get so upset. Perhaps We should just let the Republiklan Teabagging JeebusFreak C0cksuckers have their way. After all, if they were (subjunctively) in charge, We wouldn’t even notice the transition once the Chinese take over.):

(Micro$oft Weird™ just put a blue squiggly line under the “take over” in “Chinese take over”. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the language of Micro$oft Weird™, a red squiggly line under something means it is misspelled. A green squiggly line means something is grammatically incorrect. And a blue squiggly line means that, while no words are misspelled and there is not a grammatical error, Micro$oft Weird™ thinks you may want to reconsider your word choice. In this instance, for example, Micro$oft Weird™ would no doubt like Us to change “Chinese take over” to “Chinese take out”.)

(WaitStaff show blurb which you MAY have seen before (unless you are a n@ked skimmer (in which case, We have most likely seen you n@ked)) follows. But first, may We (mais oui?) just point out that this evening will be Our fifth of five days in a row of rehearsal. If this were (subjunctively) a television show, We’d be filming tomorrow in front of a live studio audience. (Presumably they say this because, back in the days of radio, they used to film in front of a dead studio audience. Because it was radio, so nobody could see the film.) We are exhausted at the very thought of rehearsing this thing yet again, and yet We do so strive for perfection in Our desperate quest for attention and applause. And, more importantly, your ticket dollars.)

(To redundantly reiterate while repetitiously repeating, the size of Our paycheck is tied to your attendance. The show, you may recall, is called The Mother Of All Sketch Comedy Shows , and it is happening on Sundays, May 16th and 23rd, at 7PM, and Wednesday and Thursday, May 19th and 20th at 8PM at L’Etage Cabaret at 6th and Bainbridge Streets. You can get tickets here. The show’s theme is mothers, and, in addition to special guest appearances by some of the WaitStaff’s mothers, it also boasts returns of audience favorites Yuri (and PuppetYuri), Jesus and his mom, Mrs. MotherOfGod, and a Very Special Episode of The Real Housewives Of South Philly, in which We actually meet the Duchess’s mother. So get your tickets. NOW.)

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

Declarations of love are one thing if you're in a loving relationship where everyone knows how they feel and the time to be a little bit circumspect about what you do and don't say is over…and PS if you want to argue with me about the premise this idea is based on, don't bother - it's just my opinion! (Also, a run-on sentence is a sentence that runs on and on, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing, while pretending to be a prognostication by One’s Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist), but with a completely craptastic cop-out disclaimer at the eventual end, disavowing any knowledge of ephemerisesses and other zodiacal whatnots in favor of a purely “just my opinion” slant, which, if We wanted somebody’s opinion, We’d give it to them, and We thought We came here to have Our starz read, because opinions We can get at the beaudy pahlor, and did We mention We finally got Our hairs did yesterday, and We look GOOOOOOD?)

Anyway, love galore is GREAT at the right time and with the right person. (Pussy Galore, meanwhile, is a character in a James Bond movie. But then, you probably knew that. We Our Own Selves Personally have never actually seen an entire James Bond movie, and We are not entirely convinced that We are missing anything.)

However, too much too soon has been known to knobble things (Now, see, when WE make up words, Micro$oft Weird™ puts squiggly lines under them. What is this “knobble” of which you speak?)

so mind how you go, (And who you blow.)

if you suspect discretion would suit you well now! (We are unlikely to engage in discretion, as We have not accrued much cretion in the first place.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

cowgrass…because you’re worth it)

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

One less bell to answer.

Greetings, Endtables Reupholstered In Calico---

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, May 12, 2010 (As you can see from the Eric’s Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Blanc Mange Frere Jacques Cousteau, since We constantly have to do everything Our Own Self because no one lifts a finger to help Us, while YouPeople were all busy with whatever petty concerns have been occupying your tiny little minds, We found Osama bin Laden. You’re welcome.):

(We have moved to a new paragraph to wish you a Happy Hump Day, because if We’d said “Hump Day” in the same paragraph with a discussion of that pixture, We might have puked up Our Own spleen.)

(WaitStaff show blurb which you MAY have seen before (unless you are a n@ked skimmer (in which case, We have most likely seen you n@ked)) follows:)

(We have been somewhat less relentless than usual in Our peddling of this show, but, as the size of Our paycheck is tied to your attendance, that nonsense is about to stop. The show, you may recall, is called The Mother Of All Sketch Comedy Shows, and it is happening on Sundays, May 16th and 23rd, at 7PM, and Wednesday and Thursday, May 19th and 20that 8PM at L'Etage Cabaret at 6th and Bainbridge Streets. You can get tickets here. The show’s theme is mothers, and, in addition to special guest appearances by some of the WaitStaff’s mothers, it also boasts returns of audience favorites Yuri (and PuppetYuri), Jesus and his mom, Mrs. MotherOfGod, and a Very Special Episode of The Real Housewives Of South Philly, in which We actually meet the Duchess’s mother. So get your tickets. NOW.)

(Because We are starved for live entertainment, We recently took a highly scientific definitive WorldWideInterWebNetzian quiz to determine What Letter Our Soulmate’s Name Starts With. The answer, lest We keep you in suspense for a moment longer, was M. (Before all y’all whose names start with M begin deleting Us from you address books, We should also point out that said quiz informed Us that We were going to meet Our soulmate at a magic show. So there’s that.))

(Is anyone concerned that Micro$oft Weird™ doesn’t even think “soulmate” is a word? What about Soultrain? (Nope.) What about Alexander Solzhenitsyn? (Oh, THAT it knows. We, of course, had to look up the spelling. (Well, naturally We didn’t know how to spell it; We were already wasting a brain cell remembering his name.)))

(Our Our-O-Scope.)

You're still in the right place at the right time to have a good think about your finances. (We are thinking that it is pretty much time to win PowerBall™.)

This is a cycle which only happens twice a year - the next similar cycle will take place in 6 months time. (So it’s a BI-cycle. Not to be confused with a BI-s3xual. Which is a mythical creature not unlike a UNI-corn. Not that We’re TRI-ing to stir up controversy. )

(Vacation time shares in Our mind are going fast.)

Don't use that as an excuse to do nothing though. (Wait…We need an excuse?)

Now is the time (For All Good Men to come to the aid of their Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist)…namely, Us.)

to work out how confident you feel (We are wearing Depends™ AND a MaxiPad™, and yet We’re pretty sure We just piddled on the carpet.)

about your financial future (There’s a future?)

and to take any steps you need to, (All thirty-nine of ‘em.)

if you're not feeling too good about the way it's all unfolding. (Here’s an idea…if everybody who’s reading this right now sent Us a dollar…We’d have two dollars. Never mind.)

Don't let your ego get in your way. (Leggo my ego. B1tch.)

If you need help, ask. (Yeah. Because THAT works. See also: ContractorBoi.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

Raise your hand, raise your hand if you’re cowgrass.)