She bangs, she bangs

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Thursday, January 27, 2011.  Happy belated birthday to Petr, who turned twenty-four yesterday, while I was bemoaning yet another humpless Hump Day filled with snow.  Not to put too fine a poetic point on it, but this weather and whoever thought it up are cordially invited to French kiss the dingleberries off the poop-encrusted hairs on my anal warts.  (I’m British….we’re poetical like that.  We invented William Shakespeare.  Who knew, unlike Micro$oft Weird™, that “dingleberries” is ONE word, not two.  (How could it be two words, when they’re all stuck together like that?))

Moving on from this scintillating discussion of Things That Orbit Uranus, Himself has already been out to shovel, and is now back in his jammies, nursing his incipient heart attack.  Poor lamb…you will recall that, in this space, I have related that, in Himself’s  Dream Universe, despite having lost his jawb, he still has to go there every day and do nothing for no pay.  Well, last night, Rastus The House Ninja (only Cathy and Dena will get that (Hi, Cathy!  Hi, Dena!)) informed him that it Just Wasn’t Working Out.  It would be nice to believe that that would put an end to this horrific dream cycle, but we are not holding our breath.

In more cheerful news, I have stumbled upon a veritable treasure trove of candidates for Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Charles de Gaulle  Maurice Chevalier Jerry Lewis.  Witness today’s bright, colorful example.  So yay, me!

You are going through a spiritual renewal today — or at least beginning one.(Oh, indeed.  My spirit is a library book.  With the last pages missing, and a deeply suspicious stain on the dustjacket.  (Oh, shut up, Micro$oft Weird™….”dustjacket” is like “dingleberries”: All.One.Word.)  Speaking of spirits, I shall be learning to make an Old Fashioned in time for Happy Hour.  I was reading the recipe earlier…it contains the word “muddle”, so I ought to be brilliant at it.  Bottoms up!)

(This would be an excellent place for another Uranus joke.  If only I knew one.)

It may take quite a while to reveal the outcome, (Not really…the rule of learning to mix new drinks is that you have to drink your mistakes.)

(Hic.)

(Actually, it’s only 10:30 in the morning here, so I’m not polishing my mixology skills just yet.)

(NOW Micro$oft Weird™ is objecting to “mixology”.  It suggests that I might prefer “mycology” instead.  (Seriously.)  Hey, more cocktail for ME!)

but you should take heart (“Take heart” is shorthand for “open chest with chainsaw”, yes?)

in the fact that it is happening at all!  (I am so far from the beginning of whatever this alleged “thought” is that I cannot possibly be arsed to go back and figure it out.  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)

Take stock in one of your closest relationships today (My closets are having a relationship?!?)

— it is natural for people to drift apart,(All the way to Uranus?)

but you may not be realizing how quickly this friendship is fading. (Trust Woolite™ for your fine washables.  (Hey, we’ve got no income here…we could use the advertising revenue.))

A recent social outing didn’t turn out to be as much fun as you were hoping. (Well, duh.  Who DIDN’T already know that Ricky Martin was gay?)

Was it just a case of having unrealistic expectations, or are you guys drifting apart? (You’re just DARING me to put “Ricky Martin” and “Uranus” in the same sentence together, aren’t you?  Cheeky monkey.)

Readjust your expectations (Yeah, they’re not so great, are they?  (That was a little litter-airy joke for my little hairy friends.  (Charles Dickens was a HACK who was paid by the word.))

and realize that you can work through this change if you both want to. (I found a quarter in the Ack-A-Me parking lot on two separate occasions this week.  (Yes, I KNOW you’re jealous, but you really couldn’t handle the glamour of being me.))

It may be time to have an honest heart-to-heart talk.  (Two hearts, one chainsaw.  (Isn’t that a song from West Side Story?))

 You know you need to use your emotions and your power — wisely. (Where’s the fun in THAT?)

Someone you’re probably not all that attracted to has a crush on you, though. (My world and welcome to it.)

You have to be honest, direct and compassionate. (Back off, you monkeybutt-ugly dingleberry muncher; I wouldn’t sleep with you if I’d eaten my weight in Viagra™ and you had the last warm hole on the planet.  (D’you think I overdid the “compassionate” part?))

(And since when is “muncher” not a word?  Jeebus!)

 

(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.