You made me love you, I didn’t wanna do it

Greetings, Elephant Remembers Infinite Circus---


Here is your horoscope for Thursday, July 08, 2010 (Now, We realize that today’s Eric’s Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Fries Dressing Toast Foreign Legion will have some of you imagining that We have started touting a fillum entitled Ticked-Off Tragedies With Fried Chicken. Mais non. We are, as is Our wont, looking out for your well-being (why We bother, We’ll never know). This pixture is for those of you who are slaving and toiling away at your jawbs, and are unable to make it to the beach until the weekend arrives (if you can make it there at all). We hope the pixture in question will help to assuage a little of your regret, as it (subjunctively) were.):


(You’re welcome.)


(Okay, We assuaged your d@mn regret for you; what the h3ll are you gonna do for Us?)


(Does it strike anyone else as odd that the words “assuage” and “sausage” are in no way related?)


(Speaking of fillums that We ARE touting, We trust that you have already purchased your tickets to Ticked-Off Trannies With Knives at QFest. This, of course, is the fillum starring the lovely and talented Willam Belli, and, if you have been remiss in obtaining tickets to same, you can do so here: http://www.qfest.com/film-details.cfm?c=240&id=9536  . We are told that Willam is gracing the front cover of this week’s City Paper, although We have yet to see same, as the online version is, as of this writing, still last week’s issue. Once they change it over, however, you will find it here: http://citypaper.net/coverstory  (In related news, how did it take Us all the way till today to notice that “Willam” rhymes with “fillum”?) )


(Your daily affirmation: http://dailydragqueenaffirmations.com/affirmation)


(Our Our-O-Scope)


You're right where you want to be, (Well, if you discount that whole “sitting on the beach while n@ked native bois fan Us with palm fronds” concept.)


and it's no accident. (Thank Chr1st for Depends™!)


So if your first impulse is to thank others, (Right after We assuage their regrets. Or regrout their sausages. One of those.)


or write the whole thing off to blind luck, (We are thinking that, if you are blind, you are not particularly lucky. Except, perhaps, as it may relate to today’s Pixture Du Jour. (This would be an excellent place for a Helen Keller joke. Not that We Our Own Selves Personally would ever stoop to such a thing, but WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!))


resist it. (Too late. Also, too bad, so sad, @nal s3x with your dad.)


Consciously or not, you made this happen, so give yourself a little treat (Snausages™!)


-- a day at the spa, maybe? (Right at the beginning, you told Us that We were exactly where We wanted to be. Now you’re sending Us to a spa. Way to contradict your @sshatted self, you @sshat-wearing @sshat.)


It may be over, but you definitely won't be willing to admit it -- either of you. (That’s Us…never say die! (Also, if you’ve seen the size of Our @ssz lately, apparently never say “diet”, either.))


While you're deciding, be willing to compromise to keep the peace. (The h3ll with that noise…We’re gonna figger out a way to keep ALL the pieces.)


You'll have lots of brilliant ideas, but they'll zip away before you know it. (We had an idea once, but it died of loneliness.)


(Meanwhile, from the WorldWideInterWebNetz yesterday: “It’s so hot, I’m sweating like a pedophile in a Barney costume.”)


Be sure to jot them down -- and wait a couple of days to present them. (Yeah. Because waiting is Our strong suit. Also, diving is Our wet suit, and Hop Sing is Our jump suit, and Mah Jongg is Our leisure suit.)


(What do We want? NONsense! When do We want it? Nairobi!)


(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:






http://www.humorscope.com/




it takes cowgrass to get revenge)