Love is in the air here at AbsurdlyAwesome.com and what better way to show it than by interpreting a little love horoscope? I’ve never felt more like a woman in my entire life than when I added multiple horoscopes to my iGoogle page just to give you people something to read once in a while. Be grateful that I made this sacrifice for you because if a girl ever sees my iGoogle page I will now have virtually no shot at banging her.
Right out of the gate I’m confused as fuck. Apparently I have a fat amount of “lusty energy” going on at the moment, which I think my internet history will show is an ongoing ordeal. The part that confuses me, though, is that this “sexy encounter” was supposed to happen on Tuesday or Wednesday… It just so happens to be Thursday and I’m sexy encounterless. Perhaps if I knew about this earlier I could force a sexy encounter. I don’t want to call it rape so how about we refer to it as “aggressive sexiness”? Either way, I’m a bit to late for this one and with the dry spell that I’m currently on I will forever be bitter about this horoscope’s delayed insight into my sex life.
This whole thing really made me think, because maybe I did have a sexy encounter and just never realized it. The only thing that could be considered a sexy encounter is probably when I made a roast beef sandwich. I stared longingly at the sandwich as the roast beef slices blew in the wind. Its nice, big bread-sts caressed my lips until I finally let its entire goodness deep inside me. I don’t know exactly where the sandwich went, but I hope it calls me again soon for another erotic adventure. If you’re reading this, sandwich, I don’t know what I did wrong, but next time I promise that I will pay more attention to your needs.
Then I find out that Friday’s full moon prompts me to speak my mind about the future of my relationship or career. Wait a minute… My career? Am I supposed to be having a love affair with my job? I guess it does kind of fall in line with my past girlfriends, for a few reasons:
I think that I need it, but it’s really just holding me back.
My job is a complete bitch.
I guess I never realized how similar those two actually are. Maybe I should quit my current job and start working for Arby’s so I have a better chance at reuniting with my latest love, but only if my next horoscope tells me to.
This is the absolute last “Ask Josh” question I have left in the hopper so send those bitches in. Remember, they’re supposed to be about something in your life that you need advice on. I’m not going to answer questions like “What kind of dog should I buy?” because the only answer to that would be “whichever one will end up killing you”.
Try not to fall asleep:
“This is going to seem shallow. My concern is what I will do when my father dies. Not concern about him dying – I know that’s on the cards soon enough, but concern about the funeral and what I have to do and say. I am an only child and he’s old so the burden will be on me to do what’s necessary. He made the arrangements when my mother died and I was grateful not to have to do it. But I realise that this will be my job next. He has lived a long and eventful life and I have to say that I haven’t been paying attention. I know there are things that he’s done and people that he’s met that should be mentioned at his funeral but I don’t know where to begin or even how much of it is true, since he is prone to exaggeration and bullshitting. How do I find out the relevant facts now, while he’s alive, so that I know what to say when he’s dead? How can you broach that subject to someone who isn’t probably thinking about death? How do I even find out who his friends are and who I would need to inform? There are even siblings of his that have been airbrushed from the family tree – I know they exist but not where they are or why they are never mentioned. I have not been a very good daughter and I know that all eyes will be on me to get the show on the road – I need to make plans before the inevitable happens. What do I do Josh?”
I’ve never been so tired in my life. That is probably the greatest sleep inducing story that I have ever read. I like when people write one gigantic paragraph for a question that could be summed up in one sentence. When I started reading this I got a severe headache and became dizzy and violently ill all at once. Then my mind collapsed on itself. If I were you, I wouldn’t be worried about your dad dying. I’d be worrying about someone murdering you because of your boredom… Or you boredoming someone to death. Either way, fuck you.
That was going to be the end of it. I was just going to end with a “fuck you” and not try to answer your question. Then I realized that I’m here to help people, even the retardeds. Not to mention I just thought of a super awesome way for you to deal with your problem. You should kill your father and then hide his body somewhere that nobody will find it. There’s no way you could have a funeral for someone who might still be alive, could you? It’s the perfect solution. You might be expected to grieve a little bit at his disappearance, but everyone forgets about those disappearing bastards after a few months anyways. You’ll never have to deal with that old fuck again!
If that seems a little too difficult of a task for you then I have another possible solution. It’s a technique that I’ve used my entire life. I call it the “not it” technique. Whenever you get the call about your dad dying the first thing out of your mouth should be “not it!”. Then they’ll probably say something like “Umm, what?” So just say “I said ‘not it’ so I don’t have to deal with the whole funeral planning thing and all that related bullshit, plus I don’t even think he was my real dad, soooo…” I’m pretty sure that would shut the person up and make them feel bad for bringing up your possible fake father situation.
Even though I’ve given you a couple very easy to use techniques for dealing with you daddy issues, remember there is always one more. How about you act like a fucking adult and deal with it. You’re not a five years old that gets overwhelmed about things like play-doh, and if you are five then click “Contact Josh” and send pictures. Either deal with it or find someone who will. What, do you not have friends or other family to help you plan this out? It wouldn’t really surprise me if you didn’t, because you have the personality and story telling ability of rhubarb. On a related note, when I was young I destroyed our neighbors rhubarb patch. My parents were upset with me so to make it up to her they gave her some of our fresh cherry tomatoes. How the fuck is that fair? Horribly disgusting rhubarb for fresh, delicious cherry tomatoes? Probably the worst day of my entire life.
I don’t really believe in Hell, but if I did I would imagine it would be a place where Christmas is celebrated every day. Christmas in Hell would probably include demon kids following you all day while singing carols, mistletoe over Satan’s cock, and this:
Yes, that is an entire door wrapped up like a present. I, my friends, am living in Christmas Hell because this just so happens to be the door to the apartment directly across from mine. Every day when I leave my apartment I have to be faced with this shiny, annoying, Christmas nightmare. That means that I have to start my day off with a severe headache and an unhealthy amount of hate for the next three and a half weeks.
I guess I could always just tear it down, break into their apartment and steal all of their shit. When the police come to question me I could just say that I thought someone left me a gigantic Christmas present. The only problem with that is I’m guessing the only things of value in their apartment are Santa trinkets and Jesus crosses. I could also kill one of them and decorate my door with their blood for my favorite of all holidays “Murder Your Annoying Neighbor Day”. The more I look at the live version of this picture the more I lean towards option number two.
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