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Greetings, Efficacious Refurbishment Instigates Communization---
Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, March 16, 2010 (Happy belated birthday to Our Cousin Brian, who turned twenty-four yesterday. No doubt a casualty of the loss of Our work calendar. If you find yourself a casualty of the loss of Our work calendar, please don’t suffer in silence; We really do want to wish you a happy twenty-fourth birthday. So lettuce know, ya know) :
(Other than that, We got nothing. We are off to Drexel to shoot a scene from The Producers for the advanced directing class. Kiss Us quick, We’re Zero Mostel. Or We’re the size of Zero Mostel. Or something. (We may have neglected to tell you the story from last week…when We went to class to perform Our scene (the original assignment having been to direct a scene to be performed live in front of the class), the teacher began the proceedings by asking how many people were unprepared to complete the assignment. Fully HALF of the class, that’s how many. “My actors from Craig’s List didn’t show up,” sez one. Craig’s List, people. We know that’s where We go whenever We want a new bicycle, and a bl0wj0b, and some actors. So these chirren now have to put their scenes on fillum to send to the teacher, who is in LA, no doubt being an extra on the set of How I Met Your Mother, speaking of which, they had the rerun of the one where Neil Patrick Harris was really fat on last night, and We accidentally caught it, and (A.) he was not as fat as We are and (2.) We’d still fu(k him.))
(We tried so hard not to digress there, and yet somehow We think We did anyway.)
(Our Our-O-Scope.)
If at all possible, reschedule your interviews or presentations. (Yeah. Like any of that is up to Us.)
It's not that you won't be on top of your game, (But it is highly unlikely that We will be on top of Neil Patrick Harris.)
but you won't be able to communicate the scope of those brilliant ideas as easily as you might at another time. (Somehow, We think We have wrung all the brilliance out of “I am wearing a cardboard belt!” that there is to be found, and changing the time really isn’t going to affect anything. Just a hunch.)
Hey, you're good enough to wait for. (All things considered, We’d rather be good enough to wait on. By a tasteful real waiter in a crisp white shirt and black pants two sizes too small. Who walks softly, carries a big stick, and says “fresh ground pepper?” in unctuous tones at appropriate intervals. It wouldn’t hurt if he could both define and spell “unctuous” in anti-unctuous tones in subsequent private circumstances. (Hey, a person can dream, can’t he?))
Explain that. (The word “that” is used in the English language for several grammatical purposes: to introduce a restrictive clause, as a demonstrative pronoun, and as a complementizer. (Oh, is THAT not what you meant? Or shall We try THAT again, with some extra unctuousity?))
(If today is your first exposure to Eric’s Daily Horoscope, please promise Us that you’ll read another installment (yesterday’s will be fine), wherein We are actually funny. We promise that We usually are. Just not today, for some reason. (This really doesn’t bode well for this Zero Mostel business later. Hmmm…))
Whether they're nice about it or not won't matter. (Shouldn’t that read “nice about it or naughty”?)
You're in a bad mood, plain and simple. (Nonsense. The sun is finally shining, We’re spending the afternoon with college boys, We’re getting a paycheck this evening…We assure you, there is absolutely nothing “plain and simple” about Our bad mood.)
A long bath and some scented candles couldn't hurt – (That would seem to be entirely dependent upon what One tries to do with the scented candles. (Well, okay, not entirely. The SIZE of the scented candles could be a factor as well.))
but initiating a long overdue conversation would be better. (Do you want the patchouli candle, or the sandalwood? And yes, it’s burning at both ends.)
This definitely wouldn't be the best day to make that major pitch to the boss. (If, however, ya wanna make that major bitch to your posse, g’head…that’s what they’re there for.)
Come up with a creative excuse, rework the idea, then give 'em hell. (Hairy.)
(We give up. The funny, she eludes Us. But We’re pretty sure We were funny yesterday. Go read yesterday’s horoscope again. KThxBye.)
(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:
http://www.humorscope.com
cowgrass…they plump when you cook ‘em.)
(Is it just Us, or does today’s pixture not quite adequately capture what must have been the gravity of the actual historical situation? In this particular artist’s rendering, can One not just hear Brutus hissing through clenched teeth to Cassius, “If one more tired old queen walks in here wearing this exact same bedsheet, I swear I’m gonna stab him with a nailfile!”?)
(Beware the American Idols of March.)
Greetings, Ephratans Retreat Into Cloister---
(That there was a little Pennsylvania humor, for some of Our more far-flung Pennsylvania readers. (For Our less far-flung and/or non-Pennsylvania readers, Pennsylvania is home to such bulging(!) metropolises (metropoli? Metropolee? Metropoli? Metropol-ah-ha-ha-ha-ah-ha-ha-ha (Sorry.)) as Bird-In-Hand, Blue Ball, and Intercourse. (Seriously…go Google ‘em on Wikipedia if you don’t believe Us.) Less-colorfully-named Ephrata is in fact home to something called a cloister. (All y’all must feel smarter already just for being here this morning.)))
Here is your horoscope for Monday, March 15, 2010 (Happy Aforementioned Ides of March to all of Our backstabbing friends. And Happy Monday to the rest of all y’all.):
(You may recall that We mentioned yesterday that We were off to the the-AY-turrr to see Naked Boys Singing About Baseball (actually a play, sans singing, called Take Me Out at Plays and Players). Who knew We would have such a good time? We had heard of, but did not know much about, the play, which won a Best Play Tony™ a few years back; it is the story of the impact that a star Major League baseball player’s coming out of the closet has on his team. Beyond that, We knew that there was copious locker-room-related (all Our lives, We’ve thought “lockerroom” was all one word…now Micro$oft Weird™ tells Us it ain’t so. Ya live, ya learn.) male nekkididity. Imagine Our surprise to find that it is a pitch-perfect (heh…see what We did there?) script (albeit in need of a trim. Be advised that it’s three acts (“baseball is a game of threes”) with a few chunks that cry out for blue-penciling. (On the plus side, it never felt long.)) It is almost uniformly (again, heh…this must be the easiest play in the world to write a review of) well-cast, from the leads (the player who comes out, who is refreshingly egotistical and obnoxious, and his best friend on the team, who also narrates (We just mistyped “narrates” in such a way that, as a correctly-spelled replacement, Micro$oft Weird™ suggested “marinates”. We’ll just pause here, while y’all try to conjure up a marinating narrator. (We should also mention that said marinating narrator is played by OurVeryOwnMisterBill…kudos!))), to the showboat parts (the redundantly retarded redneck, the two-snaps-in-a-circle gayGayGAY!!! accountant to the star player (on a side note, to Patrick (hi, Patrick)…the guy who played the accountant played the husband in Winchester (Winchester, for the rest of all y’all, was the first place winning play (written by Patrick) in last year’s Vagabond Festive One-Act Play Festival); he was not, on that occasion, two-snaps-in-a-circle gayGayGAY!!!))), to many of the secondary roles (We were particularly enamored of the performances of the gentleman who played the Japanese player (who unfortunately, scriptwise, would have fallen victim to a lot of Our desired blue-penciling) and the gentleman who played the catcher. (Somehow, even though We’re talking about baseball, that still sounds dirty.) And may We just mention, nekkididity-wise, that the nekkid gentlemen in said lockerroom (shut up, Micro$oft Weird™) take actual showers with actual running water onstage! (Not that this is a big deal. Back in the day when We Our Own Selves Personally used to work at the theater in question, We often took showers on stage. But that was because the roof leaked.) At any rate, you have two more weeks to catch (heh) this, so run (heh), do not walk (heh). Info here: http://www.playsandplayers.org/performance/takemeout )
(Whew! That’s a lotta stuff about baseball! Give Us a minute while We wring out Our j0ckstrap, and then let’S move on to:)
(Our Our-O-Scope.)
Pillows, chocolate, gourmet food and quality entertainment. (And yet, an alarming paucity of verbs. A dearth, if you will.)
(Ah, grammar! How We love thee!)
That's what you're after -- and that's all you'll be after. (On the other hand, We are, of course, before E, except after C.)
In short, (Too late.)
if it doesn't involve intimate, (Apparel?)
upfront and personal contact with charming companions and creature comforts, (Colon cleansers, carbon copies, and chicken cacciatore.)
(What? Clearly she was playing a game where she listed compound phrases beginning with C. Kiss Us quick, We’re Carol Channing. (“Corn? When did I have corn?” (Unlike Us Our Own Selves, that joke just never gets old.)))
you won't be interested. (We will, however, continue to be interestING. Usually to all the wrong people, but still. (Oh, please. Micro$oft Weird™ can suggest “marinate” for “narrate”, but doesn’t know what We mean when We accidentally type “worng”?))
Be fair. (Also, be a clown. Also also, be true to your school. Also also also, Bea Arthur. (Speaking of which, didja hear that Peter Graves died? No idea what one has to do with the other, but We never saw the two of ‘em together. Just another thing that makes ya go “Hmmm….”))
Share the wealth with someone who deserves it. (That would be Us.)
Want to put an end to the tension between you? Insist that you meet face-to-face. (We let those two sentences go by together so that you’d have ‘em at the ready to re-read when We mention to you that second-person pronouns are difficult, particularly when you (heh) are addressing someOne who refers to hisself using The Royal We.)
(All this grammar in here today…a number of Our more grammaphilic readers must be on the verge of 0rgasm. Our Sistah Ovella, OurShaun, Petr, and MizJill leap to mind. (Dunno ‘bout Ovella, Shaun, and Petr (did anyone else just hear that as "Kukla, Fran, and Ollie"?), but We are willing to bet that MizJill never imagined Us giving her an 0rgasm.))
Be sure to evacuate all innocent bystanders before the fireworks start. (Quick! Some Fleets™ Enemas for the innocent bystanders!)
What energy? (What hump?)
You'll be hard-pressed (And hand-painted.)
to do anything other than smile, grin or wink -- languorously -- at someone you find irresistible. (We sure hope We don’t mix up “languorously” with “vaingloriously”, or there’s going to be h3ll’s toupee.)
Anything else can wait until tomorrow. (Except procrastination. Because you really shouldn’t put that off. (On the other hand, if you don’t put off procrastinating, you really aren’t procrastinating as much as you could be, are you? Slacker.))
(And that seems like as good a closing thought as any. Beware the March of Dimes.)
(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:
http://www.humorscope.com
no cowgrass left behind.)
Greetings, Enchantress Recants Incapacitating Chants---
Here is your horoscope for Sunday, March 14, 2010 (And a Velly Happy Monsoon Season to One and All. (It could, presumably, have been worse…it could have been snow. Of course, it remains to be seen if it’s ever going to stop, so there’s that.) Also, Happy Sunday, and Happy Ides Of March Eve. (Who the h3ll is Eve, and how did she get in here? (Eve was weak…(Thank you, Piper Laurie.))) We Our Own Selves Personally decided it would be wise to take a morning constitutional yesterday. Actually, We were on Our way to a seminar at a casting agency, entitled “Why You Will Never Work In Show Business, You Hideous Aged Hag”. But, all New Age-y Creative ViZZZualization aside, We bring it up here for those who enjoy playing along with the Eric’s Daily Horoscope Home Game (Thank you, Don Pardo.) We were going from 11th and Mifflin (S 11th St., for those who are MapQuesting) to 7th and Callowhill (N 7th St, in MQ). Which means We walked down to 7th Street to catch the northbound #47 SEPTA bus. Naturally, We walked along the bus route until the bus came…which didn’t happen until Lombard Street, for those who (A.) know the geography or (2.) are MapQuesting. We were a bit moist., to say the very least. (Isn’t “moist” one of those words that just sounds filthy?)):
(But other than that, what did you think of Dallas, Mrs. Kennedy?)
(In addition to Monsoon Season, it is also of course Sunday (currently a misnomer if there ever was one), so Happy Sunday, and Happy Pi Day to all of Our nerd friends. (Happy Pie Day to the rest of all y’all, because mmmm….pie!))
(Our Our-O-Scope today is not Our usual Our-O-Scope, but rather is an Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulational) Pro(gnostimacation) for the entire upcoming week from The Distracted Asstrologer at http://distractedastrologer.wordpress.com/2010/03/14/sun-sign-horoscopage-15th%e2%80%9321st-march-2010/ We offer it here without additional commentary because it’s pretty funny all on its own, plus We have to go get ready to leave OurHouseWhereWeLive again (We know…riiight?) to see some play entitled Naked Boys Singing About Baseball. Sometimes, the Glamour that is Our life is nigh on overwhelming.)
On Monday evening, Mercury and Uranus make the monthly meeting of Luminaries a bit more interesting by spiking the Sun and Moon’s cocoa.
On Tuesday, the silver-tongued god of commerce hears that Neptune and Chiron are making St Patrick’s Day aftercare packages, and offers them a healthy bulk buy discount on alka seltzer.
Wednesday finds the Sun with a St Paddy’s day tab at the Pisces bar and a new friend in Uranus. Neptune and Venus fall out after their third pint of stout and cider, while Mercury quietly packs his bag for a move next door. Not one for clearing-up, isn’t our Mercury.
Thursday’s Sun only moves to accept slow sips of alka seltzer from concerned Neptune. Venus raises her head from the floorboards, tells Chiron to sod off, then hides under the mat until the Universe stops somersaulting. In another room of the Aries house, Mercury phones landlord Mars, to offer him free cable, no questions asked. Shortly before midnight, the Sun accepts Chiron’s kind offer of two paracetamol and a pint of Irn Bru.
Friday is quiet, in a sleeping-off or watching back-to-back episodes of All Creatures Great and Small sort of way.
On Saturday morning, a window at the Capricorn castle flies up, and Pluto bawls across to Mercury. As catchy as the theme tune is, if he has to listen once more to those merry pom pom poms he would personally raze the Yorkshire Dales to the ground, rendering the role of a mid 20th century rural vet defunct. Mercury changes channel to Hi-De-Hi.
Saturday teatime, the Sun bursts through the front door of the Aries house, ready for his fresh, new, sober start. The week ends with the Sun and landlord Mars planning a new extension to the Aries house. It always gets crowded there this time of year.
Aries
Did last week not live up to the promises of renewed Va Va Voom? Was it disjointed? A little bit Va? A bit oom? This week adds continuity — particularly from late Wednesday onwards when your sign gets more company and your ruler plays nice — gives you the engine you need to pick up the speed, and a pen to add an exclamation mark.
(YOUR-O-Scopes:
http://www.humorscope.com
cowgrass…you’re soaking in it.)
(Lest We be j'accused of leaving all y'all high and dry (and, if you think you're dry today, you must be high (or perhaps We should all just stay dry by staying in and getting high)), We have leapt into the WayBack Machine to bring you Eric's Daily Horoscope from two previous March 13ths. And a pixture of a guy in a wiener suit. Enjoy!)I owe everybody money, I think r@cist jokes are funny, I'm a lowlife
Greetings, Eccentric Raconteur Invites Comment---
Here is your horoscope for Friday, March 13, 2009 (Oooooh, Friday The Thirteenth! Scaaaaaarrrryy, keedz! (Actually, the scariest thing about it is how quickly it will turn into Monday, without so much as a speed bump of a weekend.)):
(Maybe it’s me, but a text message from YOUR PHONE to tell me that YOUR PHONE is dying is NOT an excuse for missing our appointment. I’m just sayin’.)
(Meanwhile, We SMELL coffee, but We HAVE none. This? Is wrong. BRB.)
(Aaaaand We’re back. To YouPeople, of course, it is as though We were (subjunctively) never gone. Insensitive @sshats.)
(Because We are ESPECIALLY unfunny today, two jokes (“Unfunny”? Is an actual word. Who knew?):
(First, this:)
An Arabic family was considering putting their grandfather Abdullah in a nursing home. All the Arabic facilities were completely full so they had to put him in an Italian home. After a few weeks in the Italian facility, they came to visit Grandpa. ''How do you like it here?'' asks the grandson. ''It's wonderful! Everyone here is so courteous and respectful'', says grandpa. ''We're so happy for you. We were worried that this was the wrong place for you. You know, since you are a little different from everyone. ''
''Oh, no! Let me tell you about how wonderfully they treat the residents'', Abdullah says with a big smile. ''There's a musician here-- he's 85 years old. He hasn't played the violin in 20 years and everyone still calls him ’Maestro’! There is a judge in here -- he's 95 years old. He hasn't been on the bench in 30 years and everyone still calls him “Your Honor"! There's a dentist here -- 90 years old. He hasn't fixed a tooth for 25 years and everyone still calls him "Doctor"!! And me -- I haven't had sex for 35 years and they still call me "The Fu(king Arab".
(And this, from The Sainted Mother:)
THE GOLFING NUN.......
A nun walks into Mother Superior's office and plunks downinto a chair. She lets out a sigh heavy with frustration."What troubles you, Sister?" asked the Mother Superior..'I thought this was the day you spent with your family.'
"It was," sighed the Sister. "And I went to play golf withmy brother. We try to play golf as often as we can. You knowI was quite a talented golfer before I devoted my life to Chris.""I seem to recall that,” the Mother Superior agreed. "So I take
it your day of recreation was not relaxing?""Far from it," snorted the Sister. "In fact, I even took the Lord's
name in vain today!""Goodness, Sister!" gasped the Mother Superior, astonished."You must tell me all about it!""Well, we were on the fifth tee...and this hole is a monster,Mother - 540 yard Par 5, with a nasty dogleg left and a hidden
green...and I hit the drive of my life. I creamed it. The sweetest
swing I ever made. And it's flying straight and true, right along
the line wanted...and it hits a bird in mid-flight!'"
"Oh, my!" commiserated the Mother. "How unfortunate! Butsurely that didn't make you blaspheme, Sister!"
"No, that wasn't it," admitted Sister. "While I was still trying to
fathom what had happened, this squirrel runs out of the woods,
grabs my ball and runs off down the fairway!"
"Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!" sympathized the Mother.
"'But I didn't, Mother!" sobbed the Sister. "And I was so proud of myself!"
"And while I was pondering whether this was a sign from God, this hawk
swoops out of the sky and grabs the squirrel and flies off, with my ball still
clutched in his paws!"
"So that's when you cursed," said the Mother with a knowing smile.
"Nope, that wasn't it either," cried the Sister, anguished, "because as the
hawk started to fly out of sight, the squirrel started struggling, and the hawk
dropped him right there on the green, and the ball popped out of his paws androlled to about 18 inches from the cup!"Mother Superior sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest,
fixed the Sister with a baleful stare, and said..."You missed the fu(king putt,
didn't you?"
(And NOW, Our horoscope:)
You're not feeling that great today -- but it's not illness that's the cause. (No. It’s Life. Or the lack thereof.)
(Apropos of nothing, even if One sits in the very back seats of a SEPTA bus, it is difficult (albeit not COMPLETELY impossible) to mentally transform it into a stretch limousine.)
Your energy is just smothered by recent events that seem to have taken over your life, but you should rebound pretty soon. (When? When Our house finally finishes collapsing around Our ears? Or when We are arrested for income tax fraud? Our life, she is so glamorous and exciting. Like a 70s disaster movie.)
As excited as you may be about an upcoming social invitation, (Oh, please. Between the soul-sucking ab0rtion that is Our day gig, three sets of rehearsals, and the odd meeting with Contractor Boi re: the imminent collapse of Our hovel, who has time for a social life? The only way We are ever going to have a drink with anybody again is if they start having cocktail service on SEPTA. (We are seeing everyone with a tasteful brown paper bag. We are also trying desperately not to picture the stewardess who passed them out.))
(“Boi re” in the preceding sentence had a green squiggle under the space and “re”, because there was an extra space, and a red squiggle under “Boi”, because “Boy” ain’t really spelt that way. When We clicked on the green squiggle to eliminate the extra space, the red squiggle went away as well. Even though, in THIS paragraph, “Boi” is still marked with a red squiggle as misspelt. (We will so TOO say “misspelt” if We g0dd@mn well feel like it, Micro$oft Word™.)) Our life is SO interesting, don’t’cha think?)
you need to slow down and give yourself time to do some research on this event. (Oh, were you in the middle of a sentence, CowHead? Too bad, so sad, @nal s3x with your dad. (We are going to KEEP saying that till it catches on, kidz, so jump on the train or get run over.))
Get a better sense (Oh, good l0rd, must We do EVERYTHING OurSELVES?)
of who will be there and who won't be there (Let’s simplify this plan: We? Won’t be there.)
-- and adjust your expectations accordingly. (Accordion. No, really. That sentence is funnier with “accordion” in it. But then, what sentence isn’t?)
Make a plan for what you will talk about with certain people. (@nal warts.)
There is a chance you can move things forward in a professional relationship, so don't miss out on it! (Meaningless interrobangs! A false sense of excitement! Does it get any better than this?!?! (Here’s a hint: NO.))
Now is not the time to be spontaneous, even with fun stuff. (Okay, well when IS the time to be spontaneous, so We can mark it on Our calendar and plan for it?)
Watch out for that self-fulfilling prophecy -- it's a killer. (Well, now that you’ve told Us who the killer is, what’s the sense in reading the rest of the book?)
If you let the negativity creep in, it'll turn into a cancer on your self-esteem. (Oh, please. We had Our self-esteem removed YEARS ago. Along with Our heart. It was part of a weight-loss program. (Obviously, it didn’t work. We are now considering an assectomy.))
Don't let one or two bad days on the dating circuit ruin your whole outlook on life. (Okey-dokey-artichokey. Oh, and? Shut. Up. Kelli.)
(And now, YOUR weekend horoscopes.)
Aries (March 21 - April 19)
Someone will tell you today "Boy, what a girl goes through to send her brother through proctology school." Despite being forewarned, you won't have anything to say, but Eric’s weekend will be worse.
Taurus (April 20 - May 20)
Good day to buy chocolate for someone you love and ruin Eric’s weekend.
Gemini (May 21 - June 20)
Uh oh. The cows have come home, and the fat lady is about to sing. Better come up with some new excuses, quick! You can do that while you're coping with the unpleasant result of the cows coming home to Eric’s house, making his weekend even MORE miserable.
Cancer (June 21 - July 22)
This is an excellent day to dare. Dare to eat a peach. Dare to wear your trousers rolled, and walk along the beach. Dare to be different. Dare to have a better weekend than Eric. That sort of thing.
Leo (July 23 - August 22)
Today you will be suddenly struck by what a genius Norman Rockwell was, and how unappreciated (in the major art circles) he remains. You will vow to do something about it, and will inadvertently ruin Eric’s weekend.
Virgo (August 23 - September 22)
You will have a nightmare tonight, in which you find yourself dangling from the ceiling, while brightly colored paper mache animals with glowing eyes file into the room. One of them will be carrying a stick. Perhaps you shouldn't eat so much candy before going to bed? Still, Eric’s ACTUAL weekend will be much worse than your nightmare.
Libra (September 23 - October 22)
You will realize soon that you've missed your true calling in life -- that of a New Vaudevillian, a theatrical marvel of the Age of Cable. Starting as "Professor Snibble and the Yodeling Pigs!", you'll rapidly achieve notoriety, and (much later, with a different act) respectability, thereby ruining Eric’s weekend.
Scorpio (October 23 - November 21)
Excellent day to fill some pantyhose with popcorn and do the reindeer dance. Hey, it’s more fun than Eric is going to have.
Sagittarius (November 22 - December 21)
It will occur to you to wonder, what if Jesus had actually said "The geek shall inherit the earth", but was just misquoted? Then you'll think of Bill Gates. Then you'll start to worry, and ruin Eric’s weekend.
Capricorn (December 22 - January 20)
You've been complaining too much, lately. You might find more to enjoy in your life by watching a documentary about a lot of people starving to death in miserable third-world slums. I know that always cheers me right up! It won’t help Eric, though; his weekend is still going to suck.
Aquarius (January 21 - February 18)
Time to start looking for a new car. Try to find one with more personality, this time! (And less of a sense of humor.) That’ll REALLY ruin Eric’s weekend.
Pisces (February 19 - March 20)
You should give your car a name, so people will be more impressed when you give them a ride. I think you should call yours "The Federation Starship Intrepid". And always do that little two-finger wave and say "engage", when you start off, of course. That’s the sort of thing that’s guaranteed to make Eric’s weekend miserable.
cow:grass::vulture:liver
Thief! Rat! No-good rabblerouser!
Greetings, Ethiopian Recipes Ignore Calories--- Here is your horoscope for Thursday, March 13, 2008 (Beware the Ideas of March.):
You've got plenty to say and should take the opportunity to say it. (Yeah. Because THAT never gets me in trouble. But first, this important bulletin: if you are the guy who was in my dream last night, or if you KNOW the guy who was in my dream last night, CALL ME. (I got a good, up-close-and-personal look at this guy, and it was no one I have ever met before. But I would surely like to meet him again. His name started with a J…Josh or Judd or something short like that. (How pathetic is it that I meet more interesting people in my dreams than I meet in real life? (Of course, my “real” life at this point consists of riding trolleys, rotting at the EAC, and putting things in boxes, so, yeah. Meeting people? Not so much. (Whose dumb@ss idea was this “moving” thing?)))))
You might have to make time in that meeting or ring up someone you haven't spoken with in ages, (More to the point, someone I haven’t spoken to since the Middle Ages.)
but it's definitely worth it! (It occurs to me that it is possible that the reason I *HAVEN’T* spoken to some people in ages is that I have said repeatedly in these hallowed pages that I am moving, and said people fear being roped into helping. Because I? Was not so much the born yesterday. (I know this surprises you, what with how young I look…especially compared to things like Ancient Egypt. And dirt.))
Things will be totally black and white, today. (Heh. Didja hear about Geraldine Ferraro yesterday? “If Obama was a white man…” Every time I heard that, I alternated between singing “Daidle-deedle-daidle, daidle-daidle deedle-daidle dum” and being really annoyed that a supposedly well-edumacated woman doesn’t know how to use the subjunctive properly. (The splinters in the windmills of my mind….let me show them to you.))
All the issues you are looking at will be clear and easy to figure out, without any confusing gray areas. (Several of the areas, however, will be perplexingly puce.)
This is one of those days where quick thinking will be easy, (Heh. “Perplexingly puce.” I kill me.)
and any argument you get involved in will be over as soon as you bring up your one killer point! (Well, DUH! It’s easy to win arguments when you just kill people! Any IDIOT can do that.)
This lack of nuance and complexity will enable you to cut through all the noise people are making. (Even more enabling will be my really, really big machete. Because you will find that, if you cut off their heads, people generally stop making noise pretty quickly (although not necessarily immediately)).
You'll feel quite proud of yourself for helping people see the light so easily! (I just got totally and completely bored of this horoscope. Wherever will I find meaning in my life now?)
You got the number, now make the call! (1-800-WHO-GIVESAFU(K)
Feeling shy? (Indeed. Also reticent. To say nothing of demure. Bashful, timid, and diffident. The Seven Really Boring Dwarfs. (Also, I just totally cheated and cut out a sentence of Kelli’s horoscope because I had nothing whatsoever to say about it. And, had I not (subjunctively) admitted to same, all y’all would be none the wiser. The Power….I has it.))
An email to your crush gets your message across. (So does a bl0wjob. I’m just sayin’. (Also, please tell me we’re not going back to this “crush” cr@p from several weeks ago.))
Thursday, March 13, 2008 Lead me not into temptation. I can find it myself.
Greetings, Ending Rendered Intended Contention---
Here is your horoscope for Friday, March 12, 2010 (Happy birthday to the lovely Sean, who turns twenty-four today. He is probably too lovely to even be reading this, but We do like to make an effort. Actually, We are pretty sure that there are a number of you who are not reading this, so, if you’re not, please leave Us a comment so We know that you’re not. (Eric’s Daily Horoscope: We’re doing Our part for the 2010 Census.)):
(Meanwhile, nice weather We’re having, eh what? And, as if today weren’t (subjunctively) unattractive enough, tomorrow is supposedly going to be full-out monsoon season, followed by still more rain on Sunday. And, after the hectic week We’ve had, We had intended to run a lot of errands this weekend. In between Our many other commitments. (No, We are not finally being committed. You can hold your breath all you like…they’ll never catch Us!)) We may just have to don We now some unnatural fibers (i.e. Not Our G@y Apparel) and go out anyway…after all, fa la-la la-la, la-la la-la.)
(Clearly, the LP that is Our mind has a scratch in it. (The chirren just all ran off to Google “LP” on Wikipedia. Silly chirren…the InterNetz are for p0rn. Also, cricks are for squids. We, on the other hand, are cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs™.))
(We just peeked in on Bloggonia (to see what condition Our condition was in), and lo, all y’all are chomping at the proverbial bit to read today’s installment. So We suppose We had better best hurry on up.)
(Our-O-Scope…)
Even the most stoic and solid of authority figures have off days. (Isn’t “stoic’ a peculiar word? It’s like somebody ran out of letters before they got to the end.)
(Speaking of non sequiturs, the lemur has escaped again. Also, We should alert you that We will probably not be coming to you live tomorrow morning, as We are off at the cr@ck of @ssz to a seminar about Why We Shall Never Find Work In Show Business. So you shall have to make do with reading Our Greatest Hits until at least Sunday.)
They've also made bad decisions based on the best of intentions. (Well, you know what They say: the road to LA is paved with hair extensions. (Why do They keep saying such stupid things that don’t make any sense? And, more to the point, why does anybody keep listening to Them?))
Mention that before you start confessing your sins. (Well, they’re not so much sins as they are creative wrongdoings. Also, bite Us.)
You're torn between a) walking away, (Renee?)
and b) asking them to elope immediately. (Elope? We cantaloupe. Watermelon!)
(Do you see what you’ve driven Us to?)
Seeing as there's a bit of a discrepancy between these options, (Actually, We are pretty sure there was never any crepancy in the first place. So precious little discrepping was ever even possible. (Meanwhile, mmmm….crepes.))
(Speaking of crepes, L’Etage, where the WaitStaff will be performing in May, is right above Beau Monde, which is a creperie. So, if you have not yet become Our fan on SitOnMyFaceBook, you could do so here: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pages/The-WaitStaff/177605379471?ref=ts. Because crepes are yummy.)
take the night to sleep on it. (Also, if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it. (We’re not exactly sure where that just came from, but We’re gonna try to send it right on back. This is a Beyoncé -free zone.))
(YOUR-O-Scopes:
http://www.humorscope.com
it takes two hands to handle a cowgrass)
Greetings, Eloquent Reupholsterer Introduces Chairperson---
(We’re gonna just pause here for a mo-mo while We let the suBtlety of that greeting permeate your conscientiousness…)
Here is your horoscope for Thursday, March 11, 2010 (So it’s official. Ms. Betty White will be hosting the Mothers’ Day edition of Saturday Night Live. Which is amazing on a number of levels, not the least of which is the fact that there are only three people who realize that that show is still on television, so which one of ‘em told Betty White? And, while We are certainly a big fan of Ms. White, We notice that there has been no viral SitOnMyFaceBookian groundswell of support to have Us host Saturday Night Live (or SNL, as they apparently call it. Like, ya know, when Beverly Hills 90210 changed its name to just 90210, because it was just so tragically hip that it couldn’t stand its own self. Jeebus. Shannen Doherty wasn’t even on it any more by that point. But We digress…) Yes, boyzzz and gurrlllzzz, We, in case you hadn’t heard, are unemployed and in need of a jawb. Betty White is collecting Social Security and living the high life; who’s gonna start a SitOnMyFaceBook campaign to get Us the hosting gig at Saturday Night Live? Day after day all y’all sit there passively while We hump through joops to entertain you; is it too much to ask you to do one little thing for Us?):
(Apparently.)
(“Hump through joops”. Heh. We slay Ourselves.)
(In other news, yesterday was supposed to be a good day. We had places to go, people to see, and actual functions to fulfill. We showered, We shaved, We FDSed Ourselves into a stupor, and We sallied forth, wondering all the while who the h3ll was Sally, and why did she come in fourth? (The comedy in here, she is like machine gun fire, no?) Unfortunately, it appears that We suck, and should just stay home. The End.)
(Live from New York, it’s Thursday morning!!!)
(Our-O-Scope…)
You're a combination accountant, strategist and political advisor at the moment. (And yet, not receiving a paycheck. Go figger.)
What you do with all this great analytical stuff is up to you, (If We tell you that We’re gonna wrap it in sandpaper and cram it, sideways, will you be able to guess where We’re gonna put it?)
but if you're smart, (Yeah. That could happen.)
you'll think big, (Two Siamese twins from Salinas/Were conjoined from birth at the p3nis/Keeping surgeons at bay/They were oft heard to say,/”But we’ve only one p3nis between us!”)
(Sure, you knew there was a d1ck joke coming. But, much like the Spanish Inquisition, nobody expects a d1ck limerick.)
aim at the heart of the matter (Equivalent results may also be obtained by aiming at the hat of the martyr. (No, think about it. See?))
and expect nothing but complete and total success. (Better advice, at least as regards Our Own Personal life, would be obtained by putting the period after “nothing”. But only if it’s a happy period.)
You're due to meet someone new under quite unusual circumstances. (Is there anyone who is seeing that as even remotely a possible good thing? Because to Us, it is screaming “mugging”.)
Just keep in mind that there's no such thing as a coincidence. (Oddly enough, We were just thinking that.)
(That there was a little existential humor. So, if you don’t exist, you won’t get it.)
You've got a bone to pick with a higher-up, (Heh-heh, she said “bone”.)
but this just isn't the right time to pick it. (Well, good. Because it’s all We can do to pick Our nose.)
Sit quietly and bide your time. (Also, walk softly and carry a big stick. Also also, don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes. ‘Cause that sh1t burnzzzzz.)
Give it two weeks. (Scr3w that noise…just fire its @ss outright.)
(And that’s about as funny as We can be for one day. You’re welcome.)
(YOUR-O-Scopes:
http://www.humorscope.com
cowgrass…it’s a floorwax! It’s a dessert topping!)
Greetings, Emphatic Refusal Inspires Counterproposal---
Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, March 10, 2010 (Happy Hump Day! Well, March has certainly come in like a lava lamp, hasn’t it? Lettuce hope it doesn’t go out like ladyparts. (We are becoming enamored, these days, here at Eric’s Daily Horoscope, of Ze Running Joke. Not to be confused with Ze Runny Yolk, of which We are not particularly eggnamored. (Zat last part was neither running, nor a joke. Discuss.))):
(We had a dream last night that We were having a dinner party. It was not, however, taking place at OurHouseWhereWeLive. There were at least twenty people there, many of whom were actual people We know, some of whom may be moving their lips to these very words as We type them. (Well, not as We type them, but you know what We mean.) In the dream, Our guests were so very rude to Us that, if We were (subjunctively) to run into them on the street today, We would have a hard time not being mad at them in real life. We have no idea why they were being so awful to Us; We only almost poisoned one of ‘em.)
(Meanwhile, the following bit of levity comes from Our MizDonna. It is perfectly safe and harmless, despite requiring you to Reach Out And Touch Someone. We have tested it Our Own Selves Personally: “Call the Nestle Crunch Hotline at 1-800-295-0051. When asked if you want to continue in English or Spanish, wait quietly for about 10 seconds. Once you are presented with options, press 4. Listen to the next set of options...then press 7.”)
(Yesterday, We went to rehearse the scene We are doing today for the Drexel student’s advanced directing class. Why has none of all y’all been kind enough to point out that We are a million and two years old?)
(Our-O-Scope…)
'Just a touch' of anything will be absolutely out of the question, especially when it comes to the ones you love. (Did We mention that in the aforementioned scene that We are doing, We are playing a child molester? That kinda makes Kelli’s Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulation) in the first sentence even funnier.)
Just be sure you're prepared for the bill, which will arrive next month. (Who is this “Bill” of whom you speak, and what the h3ll is taking him so long to get here?)
Be reasonable, (Sorry…have We met?)
or suffer through a terrific case of buyer's remorse. (Well, you know what They say: why buy the cow, when you can get remorse for free? (Why do They say that? It doesn’t make any sense…))
Stalking out of the room indignantly (Ooooh! Can We flounce? Because We feel a good flounce coming on.)
-- after being told you're impossible to please today (We? Are the furthest thing from “impossible to please”. Seriously, people.)
-- will only prove their point. (Which is, naturally, on the top of their head. Next to the hole.)
Especially if they're just a tiny bit right. (Honey, if they’re “just a tiny bit right”, then they’re mostly WRONG. So they’d best get to steppin’.)
Dressing for success is a good idea. (De debbil made me buy dis dress. (That was a little Flip Wilson to brighten up your morning, boys and girls. (That whooshing sound you just heard was all the chirren rushing off to the WorldWideInterWebNetz to Google “WhoTheFu(kIsFlipWilson?” on Wikipedia.)))
Dressing for your current mood--if you want to be successful-- isn't. (Hmm…is there a color that’s blacker than black? What color is a black hole? (Oh, get your minds out of the gutter. P3rverts.))
Lay off the hot pinks, deep reds and electric purples. (Well, there goes Our plan to dress up as ladyparts.)
(You’re pixturing that now, aren’t you? “The question before us is “Where’s her clitoris?”)
(Aaaaannnndddd We’re outtie.)
(YOUR-O-Scopes:
http://www.humorscope.com
cowgrass...when you care enough to send the very best)
