There’s got to be a morning after…

Greetings, Everyone Relishes Icelandic Cuisine---

Here is your horoscope for Monday, November 29, 2010 (We trust that you have stuffed all your stuffing, pumped all your pumpkin pie, and masticated all the turkeys you’ve desired to keep you happy for another year.  (“Masticated all the turkeys you’ve desired” is, of course, a euphemism, but We’re not telling you for what.  (All y’all who had to run to your Funk & Wagnalls to look up “masticated” should probably be making a new year’s resolution to read more.  Cereal boxes, USA Today, and the Twilight series don’t count.))  We Our Own Selves personally have moved on to the next big holiday in the cavalcade.  No, We’re not talking about clutching Our pearls for Pearl Harbor Day (but extra credit for you if you thought of that before We did).  We are referring, of course, to Christmas, for which We have already trimmed Our tree, mailed Our cards, bought and wrapped most of Our gifts, and intercoursed Our penguin.  (We put that last bit in there just to see if you were paying attention.  Also because We were stuck on how dirty “trimmed Our tree” sounded.) You are all, no doubt, peeing green with envy, but, if you pause and reflect, you will realize that this is much better than being peregrine with ennui.):

(“Masticated”, “cavalcade”, “peregrine”, “ennui”…it won’t be long before high school students start being required to read Erix Daily Horoscope in order to prepare for their SATs.   Dibs on the boys’ swim team.  (Did he actually SAY that? (Oh, unclutch your pearls, Lavinia, those high school boys could probably teach Us a thing or two.))

(Meanwhile, if One can clutch, Micro$oft Weird™, why can One not unclutch?  Also, who the h3ll is Lavinia?)

 (Our-O-Scopes:)

Look up the word 'glib' in the dictionary, and don't be surprised to see your picture there. (Alternatively, if you look up the word ‘gullible’ in the dictionary, it’s not there.  (Heh.  That boys’ swim team will believe ANYTHING.))

Yes, your verbal skills will definitely be the stuff that legends are made of. (Surely We don’t need to point out to you that “verbal skills” and “oral skills” are two different things?  (This would be the juncture at which you reply, “No, and don’t call me Shirley.”  (You have heard that Leslie Nielsen died, haven’t you?  Leslie Nielsen was, of course, the captain of the SS Poseidon.  Which will make for a very sad New Years around these particular parts.)))

Now get busy making yourself a legend for other reasons. (Well, We’re gonna need a mink coat first.)

(See, you may THINK We are dating Ourselves (well, SOMEONE has to) with that joke, but We heard recently that they are bringing that ad campaign back, so, actually, We are on the cutting edge of pop culture, and nanny-nanny-poo-poo.)

(A rustle of Speedos™ as the boys’ swim team scurries off to look up “nanny-nanny-poo-poo”.  Which most likely will NOT appear on the SATs.  (Also, Speedos™ don’t so much rustle, but whatevs. (“Whatevs” will also most likely not appear on the SATs.)))

Any good reason will do. (If We shave it, you’ll swim faster.)

(This would be an excellent place for a joke involving Jeff Stryker, a submarine, and a periscope.  Unfortunately, We don’t know such a joke.  We are always grateful, however, for audience participation. (Those of you who are still mentally shaving the boy’s swim team should get a hobby.  (Or a hobby horse.  (Heh.  We kill Us.))))

Your ordinarily astounding memory has suddenly failed you. (That happened once before, but We forgot about it.)

All you can remember now is how great things were -- In The Old Days. (Mister, We could use a man like Herbert Hoover again.)

Stop that. (Hey, We’ve got pop culture up the @ssz around here.  Poop culture, that’s We.)

It's time to move on.  (Up, to the East Side, to a dee-luxe apartment in the sky-hi-hi.)

Admit your errors. (We thought We were wrong once, but We were mistaken.)

Smile, nod and shrug your shoulders -- a lot. (Then oil up the boys’ swim team and do the Hokey-Pokey. (Ooops…was that the outside voice?))

Then go back to your room, lock yourself in a closet (Have you met Us?)

and have a tantrum, (And a Pamprin™.  Also, an egg roll, Mister Goldstone.)

with no expletives deleted. (@#@%@#$^%@.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )