See you soon, we must dash; when they’ve swept up the ash, we can meet down the street to have lunch

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Wednesday, January 19, 2011.  Happy Hump Day to all, and to all a good hump.  Not that there will be any humping here, thank you.  Poor Himself is still fast abed, having bestirred Himself (heh) yesterday just long enough to shovel up whatever the latest pile of crap to fall from the sky was.  (Parenthetically (indicated, you will note, by parentheses (hence the adverb (I was going to write a new children’s book entitled Hence the Adverb, but then I figured, what six-year-old knows what the fu(k is an adverb (naturally, I am aware that “what the fu(k” is NOT an adverb, but you get what I mean)))), how is it possible that it’s January 19^th, and yet it has snown sixty-two kabillion and eleventy-twelve days so far this year? (“Snow-snew-snown”…it’s a declension; try to keep up.))

Speaking of Himself, he’s really not having the best of luck with dreams lately.  He used to sit in meetings and dream of being anywhere else; now he has dreams about being in meetings.  Also, it is an ingrained part of his dream cycle, ever since having lost his jawb that, despite not having said jawb, he still has to show up at the EAC for work every day.  Last night, for example, he wound up having a nervous breakdown in a dream….his exact words being “Why do I keep going there?  They don’t pay me…”…and finally had to wake Himself up.

The point is, he is clearly losing what passes for his mind.

I wonder if I get the house?

Speaking of the loss of his mind, here is what he spent this past Sunday doing:

In still other news, stay tuned to this space for an upcoming bulletin about the WaitStaff.

Your affinity for children of all ages is peaking now, (It’s true; I do love children.  With some fava beans and a nice Chianti.)

so make the most of it!  (Well, I would, but it’s so difficult to cook children for one.)

Hang out with your own or your friends’, play little games at work or just make your life into something big and fun.  (How about the Spanish Inquisition? That was big and fun (well, it was fun if you happened to be an inquisitor.  Not, presumably, so much fun if you happened to be an inquisitee.  Those wacky Catholics.))

Okay, so that temper of yours may be a bit more obvious to others now. (REALLY?  DOES IT SHOW?  BECAUSE I WOULD HATE FOR OTHER PEOPLE TO BE UPSET BY HOW MUCH THEY’RE PISSING ME OFF.  REALLY. I WOULD. HATE IT.)

So what? (Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.   So what, indeed.)

If anyone is entitled to show their anger---in controlled fashion, of course (If anyone’s looking for me, I’ll be outside making anger in the snow.)

— no physical stuff, unless it’s whacking at some fastballs, (Wait…I can whack them in the balls? With impunity?  (Or at least, with a baseball bat?))

(I almost said “cricket bat”, but then I realised I was talking to a lot of Yanks who were probably still stuck on trying to figure out what “impunity” meant.)

it’s you. (Ah.  So I am That Girl.  Kiss me quick, I’m Marlo Thomas.  (Have you Seen HER LATELY?  Talk about nipped when she should have tucked.))

Anger, assertion and aggression are your business!  (Alliteration is, apparently, yours.  Asshole.)

(See what I did there?)

Imagine a world where everyone was nice all the time. (Fu(k that noise.  Let’s imagine a world where everyone’s nice TO ME all the time.)

Eeewww!  (That word is actually spelled “eeeuuuwww”.  Has this woman no editor?)

Still, do yourself and the person you’d like to continue seeing a favor: Make a reservation at the batting cage and then go and practice. (Are you actually revisiting that sports metaphor from all those sentences ago?  And, if so, why?  It never worked the first time around.)

Mix an action flick with a light romantic comedy, hand the starring role to you and you can see how sweet your love life can be today! (Not as sweet as it would be if you mixed a porno in there.)

Today is perfect for shopping around your script to potential co-stars.  (Johnny Depp, to the white courtesy phone please…)

(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.