Greetings, Egg Roll Incapacitates Chinaman---
Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, August 10, 2010 (If you are attempting to find the humor in today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Polly Wolly Doodle All Day, you will quickly find that there isn’t any. So har-de-har-har to you, Boo-Boo. (If you HAVE found some (purely unintentional) humor in said pixture, please let Us know, as We could use a good laugh.) The pixture depixts the end results of Our efforts with a new recipe for something called Vin d’Orange. (That’s Frawnch for “a bottle of wine with an orange up its @ssz”.) We put the wineglass in the pixture to give a sense of perspective, but somehow with Our madd photographical skillz all We managed to do was dwarf the jar, which is a GALLON jar, people. Here’s what’s in it: 1.5 liters of white wine, 1 cup of vodka, 1 cup of sugar, 1 cinnamon stick, 1 vanilla bean, and 8 oranges, scrubbed and chopped into 1-inch pieces. (The recipe called for only 4 oranges, but they were 8 for a dollar at the Italian Market, so We used 8.) You put this all together and let it sit for a week, stirring every day. (Yes, unrefrigerated.) And the end result? Very liqueur-like. It doesn’t taste like wine, and, while it does taste like oranges, it doesn’t taste like orange juice. The cinnamon is a surprisingly strong and un-suBtle presence, and in future efforts We might use only half a stick, and mitigate it with the addition of some cloves, or perhaps ginger. It is also not as sweet as you would imagine, as there is a bitterness imparted by the inclusion of the entire orange, pith and all. We drank it undiluted on the rocks in the company of a wine connoisseur last night (because We? Are the sort of person who knows wine connoisseurs.), and We agreed that it would probably be best enjoyed diluted with club soda or with the addition of something like Campari (hi, Deb!).):
(All this nonsense started because We were going to make limoncello like a good Souf Philly housewife, but that takes three months, and We decided to start with something that doesn’t require so much patience.)
(Well, that was a whole lotta words with very few jokes. Let’s see how many of all y’all were paying attention.)
(Our Our-O-Scope:)
'Just a touch' of anything will be absolutely out of the question, (Plus, with OUR luck, if We get ‘just a touch’ of anything, it will be Chlamydia. From a toilet seat. In a strip mall. In Jersey.)
(Aww. Micro$oft Weird™ automatically capitalized “Chlamydia”. It must’ve thought We were talking about the person. You know, Sucretia and Epiphany’s sister. Mitochondria and Saliva’s cousin. Used to ride the MyBus, back when We had a jawb.)
especially when it comes to the ones you love. (But, more to the point, when it comes ON the ones you love. (All together now: EEEUUUWWW!!!))
Just be sure you're prepared for the bill, which will arrive next month. (Who is this “Bill” of whom you speak, and how does he feel about supporting Us in the manner to which We wish to become accustomed?)
Be reasonable, (YOU be reasonable. WE are going to continue to be Us.)
or suffer through a terrific case of buyer's remorse. (We’re pretty sure We’re not going to be remorseful, as We were never particularly morseful in the first place. Because you know what They say: more than a morseful is a waist.)
Stalking out of the room indignantly (Okay, bye!)
-- after being told you're impossible to please today -- will only prove their point. (Oh, fine. But what if We really HAD (subjunctively) stalked out of the room (indignantly) right after the first part of the sentence? THEN what would you have done? Huh? If Helen Keller falls down in a forest, is there sound?)
So don't. (Tell Us not to live, just sit and putter. Life’s cashmere, and Our ball is in the gutter. Don’t bring around a clown to drain all Our pomade.)
(Who knew Funny Girl was so avant garde?)
Especially if they're just a tiny bit right. (What if there’s just a tiny bit left? (No, We have no idea what We’re talking about. Why do you ask? (Is noon too early for Wine With An Orange Up Its @ssz?)))
(Your Euro-O-Scopes:
cowgrass. We’re getting there.)
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