Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monday, January 24, 2011. Happy belated birthday to Deedee, who turned twenty-four over the weekend. In case you’re having trouble translating today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Christian Dior Yvette Mimieux, it says, “You are cordially invited to blow the fu(king weather out your big fat smelly hairy @sshole.” Sheer poetry, no? Here at Casa de Crackpot, we require a three- or four-day window in the precipitatory aspects of said anally-expelled weather in order to have our roofer come over and take our leak. And it looks like that is not going to happen yet again this week. Needless to say (she said, promptly saying it anyway (as One does)), we are less than thrilled.
In other news, we are just DAYS AWAY from a WaitStaffian announcement of mammoth proportions (no, it has nothing to do with the size of Himself’s @ssz.) You are all, no doubt, simply lactating with anticipation. As you do.
“Lactating with anticipation.” Heh. I kill me. Milk…it does a body good.
Apropos of nothing, here is a joke:
A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, walked up to the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes, and said, “I'd like to buy some cyanide."
The pharmacist asked, "Why in the world do you need cyanide?”
The lady replied, "I need it to poison my husband."
The pharmacist's eyes got big and he explained, "I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband, that's against the law! I'll lose my license! They'll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!"
The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife.
The pharmacist looked at the picture and said, "You didn't tell me you had a prescription."
You’re not being selfish today; (How the hell did THAT happen?)
that much is clear. (Well, at least SOMETHING’S clear. Meanwhile, speaking of clear, it LOOKS like a beautiful day outside. Unfortunately, all reports are that it is as cold as the proverbial witch’s tit in the proverbial brass brassiere. (Is it just me, or does a brass brassiere sound singularly uncomfortable regardless of ambient temperature? And wouldn’t it turn your breastusses green? (If you think I worry about unusual things, you should hear the things I DON’T tell you about.)) Nevertheless, as apparently tomorrow God’s Ex-Lax™ is kicking in and some frigid heavenly crap is destined to fall upon us, I expect it would be prudent to go out for some form of constitutional today.)
Even if you do end up ahead, (How is it that one ends up Ahead, but BEhind? Why not BEhead and Ahind? (Is it just me, or does “Ahind” look like the name of some guy behind the counter at 7-Eleven?))
your friends and colleagues are likely to end up even further along, thanks largely to your team spirit. (Oddly enough, my team spirit smells like teen spirit. (If anyone would care to send over a drunken nineteen-year-old for a comparison, I’d be eternally grateful.))
It’s going to be an interesting day, (Although you’d certainly never know it from this horoscope.)
as the expression goes, (There’s an expression that says, “It’s going to be an interesting day “? Am I the only one who’s unfamiliar?)
complete with the possibility of a visit from the dreaded green-eyed monster. (To say nothing of the green-titted witch in the brass brassiere. (See? There’s a thread here and everything. Meanwhile, Micro$oft Weird™ informs me that “titted” is not a word. Especially when one puts three Ts in the middle of it. But even with two Ts, it is frowning upon it. And suggesting that I might wish to replace it with “tatted”, “totted”, “twitted”, “titter”, or “tilted”. None of which is the same thing at all. I suppose “titty-twister” is out of the question?))
If it shows up, don’t blame yourself. (I need a scapegoat!)
Jealousy is in the air; it has been for some time now. (All things considered, I’d rather be sniffing the teenagers.)
That doesn’t mean you did anything to cause it, or that you’re responsible. (Oh, please. Once that drunken nineteen-year-old shows up, I’ll show you just how irresponsible I can be.)
Your only defense is to be honest, stand your ground and explain what happened. (I was swimming where some boys were.)
After that’s done, you can only hope they understand. (Understand. The first word I ever heard…(All the gay bois are now hysterical. Everybody else is all “WTF?”))
There’s no time like the present to put a little romantic energy out there! (Considering the back-alley abortion that is today’s weather, I am thinking one might want to keep one’s “romantic energy” indoors. Just sayin’.)
Don’t go all-out (Or balls-out. Because it’s COLD out there!)
— simply helping a colleague or complimenting a cute stranger can make your world brighter. (Does the cute stranger happen to be a drunken nineteen-year-old?)
(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:
http://www.humorscope.com )
http://www.humorscope.com )
Starzina Starfish-Browne was born in the wagon of a traveling show…well, okay, not really. She was actually born in Lowake, Texas, the daughter of a beautician and either a garage mechanic or the town mailman. At sixteen, she escaped her humble beginnings by running off with Doctor Browne’s Traveling Medicine Show and, more to the point, Doctor Browne. Following the dissolution of this unfortunate entanglement (Doctor Browne was a Virgo and Starzina is, of course, an Aries), which produced a daughter, Starzina entered a contest in Soap Opera Digest and won a scholarship to Oxford (yes, in ENGLAND), where she earned her doctorate in the newly-created dual major of Astrology and Human Sexuality. There is absolutely NO TRUTH to the rumor that Starzina’s second daughter has Royal blood, despite tabloid photographs allegedly depicting her cavorting on the Italian Riviera with Princes William and Harry, clad only in Prussian helmets and armbands of questionable taste. Starzina currently resides with her daughters in Philadelphia, the City That Loves You (On Your) Back, where she enjoys Double Coupon Day at the local SuperCruise and “encouraging” the coxswain of the Penn rowing team.
