What’s Yr Sign? The Upstate Ether Zodiac



Redneck Dawg (March 21 to April 20):
Dim and one-dimensional, you’ve got your base tastes down pat and have no interest whatsoever in exploring anything new. You are an open book: shallow as a puddle and simple as Bisquick.

Baygenie Ken (April 21 to May 20):
Shifty and untrustworthy, you profit off the hard work of others, and then rub their noses in it after the fact. You think you can hide behind your masks, but no amount of disguise will hide the shortness, baldness and fatness in your soul.

Spartacus Crab (May 21 to June 20):
Pushy and dictatorial, you’re more than happy to bring on epic meltdowns just to satisfy your own interests. Feigning to be a team player, you’ll throw everyone else under the bus, and then hope it runs out of gas before it hits you.

Albany Jones (June 21 to July 20):
Tidy and organized, with a masterful sartorial sense, you are the hidden wizard who makes things tick from your secret bunker beneath the Empire State Plaza. If the babes knew you existed, you’d be a playa, but you opt instead to love your machines instead of other people, potential unfulfilled.

Ol’ Dirty Piece of Strange (July 21 to August 20):
You have an undeniable animal magnetism that drives the ladies mad and makes the men step aside when you come up the sidewalk, screaming and shaking. But that’s okay, since you just came from their houses, where you were diddling their wives. Who cares if your trousers stink?

Richie Muffinstuffer (August 21 to September 20):
The world is handed to you a silver platter, which you lose, but the world hands you another one, since there’s an endless supply of silver platters out there for the likes of you. Endlessly cheerful, because you have no wants, people are drawn to you because of what you can buy them. But, hey, you have so much money you can buy and still have plenty for yourself later. So why be stingy?

Underpants Gnome (September 21 to October 20):
Big attitude in a little package, with a chip on your shoulder the size of a redwood and the worst job this side of the offal tasters. People pity and fear you, though the fear tends to outweigh the pity, especially when they see you writhing about in a pile of their intimate garments.

Pee Pee Dog (October 21 to November 20):
Cuddly and easily excited, eager to please but accident prone, you mesmerize and horrify people in equal parts.

Gobrin Shalk (November 21 to December 20):
Xenophobic and paranoid, always seeing slights when none are intended, convinced that everyone is out to get you, you lash out every time someone tries to make inroads with you, and are destined to a lonely, bad-toothed life and dismal, painful death, probably at the hands of a large sea mammal.

The Wailrus (December 21 to January 20):
Oh, the whining! Oh, the angst! You are a blathering bundle of complaints and petty whimpers, the world handed to you on a platter, which you hate because it’s silver plate, not sterling. And silver plate makes your teeth hurt, probably because of the cancer. Oh!

Special Kitty K (January 21 to February 20):
Not the brightest bulb in the box, people tend to give you what you want, even if it’s bad for you, because it’s easier than trying to explain stuff to you. When people say they’re laughing with you, don’t be so sure.

Fucking Sucks Monkey (February 21 to March 20):
You are the bummer dispenser. No matter what’s going on, you will be there to tell everybody that it’s not as good as it used to be, or not as good as your other thing, or just not good at all. Thing is, nobody thinks you’re worth a tinker’s damn either, but they’d just rather avoid you that tell you that.

Absinthe for Richie Muffinstuffer

Richie Muffinstuffer: Hey Overlords, is it true that absinthe is legal in the United States again? I’ve been reading about it all my life. I’m thinking it has to be even better for drugging and seducing attractive visitors than vodka, Robitussin and pomegranate cocktails, right? Who can tell me what it’s like? Money’s no object, obviously. Thanks!

Oscar Wilde (In Hell): I once remarked that “after the first glass, you see things as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, which is the most horrible thing in the world.” From beyond the grave, I would amend this to say that seeing things are they really are is only the second most horrible thing in the world. The first most horrible thing in the world is the dramatic irony of exploding of syphilis contracted after a youthful liaison with a female prostitute after being imprisoned as the most infamous bugger of the 19th century. But, still, you get my point.

Mustapha Mond: I think living in Binghamton would be worse than that.

Oscar Wilde (In Hell): Right. I stand corrected. Absinthe is the third most horrible thing ever. After syphilis and Binghamton.

Mustapha Mond: Nah, I still might have to move it down the fourth place, behind syphilis, Binghamton and that awful Shallow Hal movie. That burns worse that a venereal disease ever could.

Oscar Wilde (in Hell): Oh, I dunno. Shallow Hal had a pretty weak script, but that Jack Black is kind of cute. Never mind that other awful movie about me that had me chasing that poncey Jude Law around, though. I like my boys rough, and with some meat on their bones. From the great beyond, I’m looking at you, O’Brien!

O’Brien: Alright! At least someone is!

Published in: on March 5, 2010 at 4:13 pm  Leave a Comment