Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monday, January 31, 2011.  Happy We’ve-Finally-Put-An-End-To-Fecking-January.  Also, Happy Eve of the Snowpocalypse.  One imagines that if One keeps saying the weather can blow One, One will eventually get a blowjob.  One is wrong.

I am hastening like hasty pudding (whatever the hell that is) to get today’s Erix Daily Horoscope out the proverbial door, as it is being awaited by at least one Faithful Reader with bated breath (NOT “baited breath”….we’ve discussed this before) to see if I am indeed a discreet lady.  Longer-term Faithful Readers would realize that one thing I have always agreed with Himself upon is that Discretion is The Better Part of Valour.  (Also, Digression is The Better Part of Velour.  (See what I did there?  (No, really…see?  I had a digression about digression.  Because I’m British, and we’re funny that way. (Not, of course, so much “funny: ha-ha” as “funny: the hat the Queen’s wearing today looks exactly like the backside of a female gorilla”.))))  All of which is to say, tales will not be told out of school, no one’s reputation will be tarred with the tarry brush of tarriness, and All’s Well That Ends Well, odds bodkins and forsooth.  (Many Yanks assume that we Brits are constantly saying things like “odds bodkins”…in reality, I don’t even know what the fu(k it means.)

At any rate, you’re welcome.

Speaking of queens, I must also hasten hastily through this epistle like a hasty haste-making waster so that I can wake up Himself and force him out into today’s sunshine before the deluge begins this evening.  A little Vitamin D could do a body good.  (Especially if that D happens to stand for “Dick”.  I’m just sayin’.)

Now that absolutely no one has any idea what I’m talking about, here is the horoscope proper:

Try to stay grounded today (Really?  Shall I be sent to bed without supper as well?)

— though that might seem pretty hard. (That’s what she said.)

It’s a good day for you to take it easy (Oh, Sweetie.  “Easy” is my middle name.)

and try to get some perspective (Kiss me quick, I’m MC Escher.  (I just never get tired of that joke.  (Please, Escher, don’t hurt ‘em.)))

when things seem more difficult than they usually do.  (Even more difficult than that is when things seem more difficult than a didgeridoo. Because what’s more difficult than that?  Not much.)

Energy is a very valuable — and finite — resource, as you can see in the rest of the world. (What the hell has the rest of the world got to do with anything?  We’ve got our own personal energy crisis, right here at Casa de Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs™.  Even if I stuck a broom up Himself’s ass, I’d still have to set him on fire to get him to sweep the floor.)

(You’re picturing that now, aren’t you?  Cheeky monkeys.  (Hmm…perhaps I’ll make a YouTube video…))

This is definitely something you should keep in mind in terms of your own enthusiasm and capabilities right now.  (Oh, yes, my enthusiasms.  Let me show them to you.)

Conservation is the right approach, (But don’t get it mixed up with constipation, or you just won’t give a shit. Also, a liberal amount of conservatism would seem to be a contradiction in terms, no?  Also also, all things in moderation, especially moderation.)

(What do we want? NONsense!  When do we want it?  Noun!)

so don’t overextend yourself too much. (Bend and stretch, reach for the stars…there goes Jupiter, up your arze….)

(That was a little song from my days in children’s television programming on Miss Starzina’s Romper Room School. (I never laid a fu(kin’ hand on those kids!))

It might be tempting to jump in and become a part of everything that’s going on around you, but resist the urge. (See, we Brits call them “jumpers”, but you Yanks call them “sweaters”.  You say “potato”, and I say, “non sequitur”.)

Put your attention only where it can do the most good.  (I’m sorry….what did you say?  (See what I did there?))

Before you send that message, check in with yourself. (Wait…I’m sending myself a message?  Why?  Wasn’t I listening when I was talking to myself?)

Is this really someone you want to meet, or are you just killing time? (I’m guessing it’s really someone I want to kill.  (It’s a pretty safe bet.  This winter crap is making me want to kill pretty much everyone.))

 Stay open to fresh opportunities. (Oh, I am WIDE open.  Fully dilated, as it (subjunctively) were. Oh, look…Jupiter just fell out!)

(Micro$oft Weird™ is suggesting that I change “dilated” to “diluted”, but that’s a whore of another color.)

Ambiguity only complicates matters. (Promiscuity, on the other hand, fornicates EVERYbody. (Hey, you put YOUR slogan on YOUR T-shirt, I’ll put MY slogan on MINE.))

 

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

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.