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Thursday, September 22, 2011

You can ring my beh-eh-ell, ring my bell

Greetings,  Entenmann’s™ Raspberry Inspires Carboloading---

(Micro$oft Weird™ doesn’t think “carboloading” is a word.  Micro$oft Weird™ has apparently not noticed Our @ssz eclipsing the sun.)

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, September 22, 2010 (We have absolutely nothing to report, but We got email from OurShaun in London, England, Britain, UK yesterday saying that he “loved” yesterday’s horoscope.  And, since Our wit wasn’t particularly scintillating, We are guessing that what he loved was the Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Crème Brulee Nanette Fabray Robert Goulet Why Do The French Love Jerry Lewis.   So, since We have another one like it, We thought We’d share.):

(Also, Happy Hump Day. If you are humping, We don’t want to hear about it.  If you are humpbacked, on the other hand, you can ring our bell.)

(In other news, you can go here  to get FIVE DOLLAR tickets to see the WaitStaff’s Real Housewives of South Philly at the Wilmington Fringe.  Also, We are appearing this Saturday night at 7PM in some theater at Ursinus College for the low, low price of FREE. Are We two-bit wh0res, or what? (If you will be in the vicinity of Uranus College, ask Us for actual details.))

(Speaking of wh0ring, here’s Everybody’s Favorite Messiah, Jesus H. Christ, with His YouTube video:


You need to reach out and help your friends who are in need — and there may be quite a few of them! (Alright, you needy b1tches, line up for gruel.)

You probably won’t get too much done of your own business, (Well, We suppose not.  All this damn gruel ain’t gonna make itself.)

but you should have plenty of time tomorrow. (Also, your son’ll come out tomorrow.  Bet your bottom dollar he’s a bottom.)

In a gaggle of geese, you’re a swan. (What the fu(k is THAT supposed to mean?)

In a clutch of hens, you’re the head bird. (The word you’re looking for is “cock”.  (Come (heh) to think of it, the word MOST of Us are looking for is “cock”.))

(A-doodle-doo.  Also, yabba-dabba-doo, and a little dab’ll do ya.  BOO-yah!)


In a flock of nightingales, you’ve got the sweetest and most powerful voice. (Also, We taste like chicken.  Really OLD chicken, but still.)

Yep, (“Yep”?)

you’re kind of a natural leader type. (Also, this is Our natural hair color.)

And right now, you’ve got just the right inspiration as to where to go and how to get there. (Why is it getting so warm in here, and what are We doing in this handbasket?)

This inspiration will turn you into a 100 percent bona fide top bird. (Kiss Us quick, We’re Tippi Hedren.)

So go ahead and crow until everybody listens. (Or possibly Mary Martin. (If you actually got that, you are (A.) very, very old and (2.) gayer than Liberace’s purse fu(king Charles Nelson Reilly’s ascot in a field of pansies while Paul Lynde’s Tuesday panties look on and sip a banana daiquiri with an umbrella in it.))

You’ve got great creative flow and vision  (Quick…who’s got a Maxi-Pad™?)

— which is ideal for work, but also great for any romantic endeavors. (Is it just Us, or is there absolutely nothing romantic about an “endeavor”?)

Dream up a hilarious message to someone special, (Your entire family has been eaten by rabid dogs!)

(It strikes Us that that sounded like a fortune cookie message and, as such, should definitely end with “in bed”.)

or issue the perfect invite! (Hey, We already made gruel for all you needy b1tches…what the h3ll else do you want from Us?)

 (Your YOUR-O-Scopes):
Have you driven a cowgrass lately?)