Having trouble timing the waves these days? After you've leapt nimbly onto your board, does the big one slam you to the ocean floor every damn time? Chill out, surfer person. It isn't Alzheimer's. Or Lyme disease. Or AADD. You forgot to set your clock ahead in April. When the big hand's on the little hand, sing a Beach Boys song. Most of them couldn't surf either.
The book that inspired a website is available from Cedar Tree Books. Written by someone who was actually raised by pugs, Postcards is a welcome addition to any mailbox. Sample chapters:
HOLLYWOOD - Born today you share a birthday with actress Heidi Montag—at least with her original parts. A former star of The Hills, Ms. Montag has had boob jobs, nose jobs, and a brow job. She has had her ass overhauled, the fat sucked out of her stomach and thighs, and other body and fender work--including a record ten procedures in one day.
Fortunately your circumstances prevent you from indulging in such foolishness when you feel like an ugly duckling. Instead you settle for a new pair of Stella McCartney Jeans from Bergdoff Goodman for $535. Be of good cheer. At least you can still chew your food, and you're not bumping uglies with that turd Spencer Pratt.
Sagittarius (11/22 - 12/21): Sagittarians are ever the cynics. Always willing to believe it isn't butter; that some people's minds wouldn't be a terrible thing to waste; and that maybe you don't deserve a break today. That's why Sagittarians are vulnerable to people who sell extended warranties on home appliances.
Capricorn (12/22 - 1/19): The harmonic investiture of the planets Currier and Ives suggests that you have something essential to prove. Could it be the First Law of Thermodynamics? The Pythagorean Theorem? That Tide really does get clothes whiter? In your quest for certitude, don't overlook the obvious. The proof may be right there in the pudding.
Aquarius (1/20 - 2/18): Your ability to function without the aid of psychotropic drugs is severely compromised by the onset of acute Umberallis Prophylaxis: fear of going outside without the proper rainwear. Enroll in a Weather Channel support group, fast.
Pisces (2/19 - 3/20): Seek shelter at once. Tax shelter, bomb shelter, shelter for the homeless, Shelter Island, it doesn't matter. If you plugged the numbers corresponding to your most significant planetary modulations into the Astrology for Idiots software, the screen would go blank and you would get a "fatal error" message.
Aries (3/21 - 4/19): There are four fixed signs in the zodiac, killer, but yours isn't one of them. You are scheduled for repairs, however, around the Fall Cinemax. Meanwhile, as an unfixed sign you're free to run with the status seekers. That beats holding the fort at the offices of The Status Quo. Use this freedom indiscriminately.
Taurus (4/20 - 5/20): In the major planetary conjunction of 2011, the three planets closest to Earth will be in Taurus for the first time since the Beatles broke up. The next time this conjunction occurs a woman will be elected president. This has nothing to do with you, but life generally doesn't.
Gemini (5/21 - 6/21): Your significant other has begun keeping a dream diary. Sources familiar with the diary whisper that her dreams regularly contain acts of violence against cats and of running away with the next door neighbor. Or did those sources says "acts of violence against the next door neighbor and running away with cats"? Time will tell, I suppose.
Cancer (6/22 - 7/22): Your birthstone is the guano. Your color is eggshell brown. Your power phrase is, "Beats me." Before you go setting your gearshift for the high gear of your soul, make sure the clutch is engaged, your seat belt is in position, your air bags are functioning properly, your insurance is paid, and you're wearing clean underwear.
Leo (7/23 - 8/22): Life is your karaoke tape, and there ain't a note you can't hit. The sun only has eyes for you. The stars are your spotlights. All the traffic lights are green, and rain falls only when you're sleeping. This kind of run ought to be framed and put on a wall as a reminder of human potential. Enjoy.
Virgo (8/23 - 9/22): Your gregarious, talkative nature is both a blessing and a bane. It enables you to con people and to get away with murder, but by the same stars you are four times more susceptible to becoming addicted to computer chat rooms than is any other sign of the zodiac.
Libra (9/23 - 10/23): Two distinct faces emerged during a reading of your salad entrails last night: Jerry Garcia's and Martha Stewart's. Obviously you are a trend setter, but terminal cognitive dissonance could erupt if either of those psyches were stuck in the other person's body.
Scorpio (10/24 - 11/21): You say you were an unwanted child? You lead a marginalized, meaningless existence? You hate your hair texture? You're a Persian trapped in an alley cat's body? You've lost your moral compass? A cold, existential dread corrodes your dreams? What makes you say that, anyway? Haven't you got anything good to say?
Other persons celebrating birthdays today: the always idiotic Dina Lohan and the recently slimmed down Dan Marino.
Amused? Disgusted? Royally pissed off? Click the Twitter link to share with a friend. Go ahead. It's free.
Ten Things You Should Flip the Bird to Before You Die 1. Religion
2. Voting
3. Seat Belts
4. Facebook
5. Paying for Music and Movies
6. The Bucket List
7. Classical Music
8. Pissing Indoors All the Time
9. Hats
10. Going to Bed Early.
Having trouble timing the waves these days? After you've leapt nimbly onto your board, does the big one slam you to the ocean floor every damn time? Chill out, surfer person. It isn't Alzheimer's. Or Lyme disease. Or AADD. You forgot to set your clock ahead in April. When the big hand's on the little hand, sing a Beach Boys song. Most of them couldn't surf either.
Meaner than a powdery, old-hag English teacher, The Grammar Prick will split your head if you split an infinitive.
The book that inspired a website is available from Cedar Tree Books. Written by someone who was actually raised by pugs, Postcards is a welcome addition to any mailbox. Sample chapters:
Strike a blow for freedom.
