Greetings, Encyclopedia Reader’s Intelligence Crashes---
Here is your horoscope for Monday, August 23, 2010 (Happy Monday to all Our peeps and peepettes! In case you were unaware, today is National Futility Of All Human Endeavor Day. (But then, what Monday isn’t?)):
(You will recall that We were off this Sunday to raise funds for a fillum at a fillum fund-raising fundraiser. (For some reason, We just had a flash of an Amish barnraising, which We are pretty sure isn’t at all the same thing. For example, at the end of an Amish barnraising, they’d have, oh, I don’t know, a BARN, whereas, at the end of the fundraiser in question, the fillum makers didn’t so much have any funds. However, that is neither Our point nor Our problem, as the fillum makers in question had no intention of putting Us Our Own Selves Personally into their little fillum, and, in fact, would probably not p1ss on Us if We were (subjunctively) on fire. (We are going to use this mention of fire like a crowbar to yank Us bodily out of this parenthetical digression…)). THERE We go, and now We’re back, from outer space, We just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face…(ooops.) The amusing part of Our story involves the loose lip-synching ship drag queens who were to follow Us in the entertainment portion of Our program. Prior to curtain, one of them was showing Us her sparklers, which fit tastefully into the pointy ends of her McDonna-esque conical brassiere. We expressed Our concern for her well-being, igniting such things so near a headful of wig which was so clearly not human hair. Skipping ahead in Our story, We strutted and fretted Our fifteen minutes upon the stage and went home, where Our WorldWideInterWebNetz informed Us that said drag queen had set fire, not to her hair, but to the stage at the World Café Live. There were, apparently, no casualties, and a good time was had by all.)
(Changing the subject for a moment, We are appalled that Micro$oft Weird™ refuses to recognize “barnraising” as a word. This is clearly a case of anti-Amish discrimination, and We intend to protest by promptly gathering all Our Amish friends together and raising a barn at Ground Zero.)
(What a shame that you can tell We are joking by the fact that, with as few friends as We have, the likelihood of any of them being Amish is practically nil.)
(We have no idea what to do with the fact that Micro$oft Weird™ also doesn’t recognize “headful”.)
(Speaking of discrimination, We have been following with some envy the travels of a fellow blogger who was invited (all expenses paid, mind you) to some faugh-faugh-faugh convention of blogging elite in New Yawk City. Why, We lamented, couldn’t We be invited to such a gathering? We blog. Only two people read Us, but still, We blog. Turns out, the convention in question was for WOMEN bloggers. Well, slap Our face and call Us Mary. Women bloggers, indeed. Ain’t *I* a woman? Well, AIN’T I? Seriously. We are polishing up Our delivery of Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I A Woman?” speech, slightly repurposed, for next year’s Women Bloggers Convention. There won’t be a dry seat in the house.)
(Extra credit for any of all y’all who are currently pixturing Us in drag as Sojourner Truth.)
(Here is the SitOnMyFaceBook event for the upcoming WaitStaff show in the 2010 Philly Fringe Festival, The Real Housewives of South Philly: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-WaitStaff/177605379471?ref=ts#!/event.php?eid=140078749365736&ref=mf Please note that that show will also be playing on September 25 at Ursinus College (for all of Our Ursinian readers), as well as the following weekend, October 2 & 3, in the Wilmington Fringe Festival (for all of Our Delawarian readers).)
(For those of you who missed the fillum fundraiser, here is the monolog We performed there. (This video just surpassed 500 hits. Really, people? The Little Engine That Could is for fu(king CHIRREN, okay?)):
)
(Our Our-O-Scope:)
Tying up loose ends will be quite rewarding now (Especially tying them really tight around people’s necks.)
-- so strike while the iron is hot. (Alternatively, strike ‘em with a hot iron. The screaming, the scarring…it’s win-win.)
Start early, and resolve to stay late if need be. (All things considered, We would much rather start oily, and resolve to stay laid.)
You'll be so darned proud of yourself tomorrow (And yet, apparently not proud enough to say “damned”, like a grownup.)
you won't be able to stand it! (This list of things We are able to stand diminishes by the second.)
Whether you're asking or accepting, (Or asskissing or Amishbarnraising)
(It’s probably not necessary to point out that Micro$oft Weird™ doesn’t recognize “Amishbarnraising” all as one word. However, We are flummoxed and flabbergasted by its feigned ignorance of “asskissing”.)
it's time to nod your head and reach out to shake -- or tenderly grasp -- someone's hand. (As We mentioned earlier, reach out all you want. Just be sure there’s a hot iron in your hand.)
Be confident. (Isn’t that the slogan for some sort of feminine hygiene product? (Ain’t I a woman, dammit?))
It's all good. (Also, it is what it is. Also, Shut. Up. Kelli.)
Don't bother packing a thing. (Surely you jest…Sojourner Truth can’t wear just any old shoes.)
When you end up where you're going, you'll feel like a brand-new person (Ain’t I a woman?)
-- which calls for a brand-new wardrobe. (And probably a hat. Because We are feeling that Sojourner Truth would wear a hat. Possibly involving cabbage roses.)
(Your Euro-O-Scopes:
Cowgrass makes mornings they’ll remember.)
I can attest that you are, indeed, a woman. I've heard you roar.
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