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Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Come and knock on our door, we’ve been waiting for you

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Tuesday, March 15, 2011.  Very few people know that William Shakespeare was working on I Love Lucy when he penned the immortal line, “Beware the ideas of Mertz.” Of course, if he were (subjunctively) working in television today (which is obviously silly, as he was of quite advanced years when he worked on I Love Lucy (although he did live long enough to contribute several episodes to the first season of That Girl)), it would be “Beware American Idols from Mars”.

Hey, it’s Tuesday, people.  Thirty-seven percent less funny than Monday. Saving up Our jokes for Hump Day, We are.  Why don’t YouPeople make Us laugh for a change?  Send in some pixtures of yourselves nakedly skimming…that ought to do it. (It is just a LEETLE disturbing that, if We stop to think about it, We have actually seen a number of Our naked skimmers naked.  And still We don’t get laid.  Wuzzup wit dat?)

Speaking of funny, tomorrow, in addition to being Hump Day, is also the day of Himself’s WaitStaff show, The Real HouseWives of South Philly, at Helium Comedy Club.  Now, of course, if you’ve met Himself, you are well aware that he’s not the least bit funny (appearances to the contrary), but We do so try to humor his sorry ass.  And his little friends are very funny, so it’s rather easy to laugh at their antics and subsequently pretend that Himself was also funny.  And cocktails are served before, during, and after the performance, which makes it even easier.  Here is where you buy tickets:  And here  and here are some press with which to entice your friends to accompany you.

Meanwhile, “beware the Isle of Man”?  Not funny.  Also not funny:  Ayn Rand: “Beware the ideas of Marx.” (Please bear in mind that We are a Highly-Trained Professional, and you should not attempt this at home.  Especially if you are naked.)

And now, the moment you’ve all been nakedly skimming for: Erix Daily WhoresOnToast (now with thirty-seven percent more K-Y Jelly™!): 

Your internal combustion engine is purring today (Damn Mexican food.  (Or, as Mister Shakespeare wrote in the only episode of the Batman series he worked on before being unceremoniously dismissed, “Holy frijole, Batman!  I just farted in my tights and it went all the way down my leg!” (Shakespeare never did have a very firm grasp of camp.)))

— make the most of this hot energy!  (The nail in Shakespeare’s coffin, at least as far as Batman was concerned, was, of course, when Cesar Romero refused to utter the line, “Wet fart!  Who’s got a comb?” In a cunning display of linguistic economy, Shakespeare recycled the line into an episode of Family Affair, where it was delivered by none other than Sebastian Cabot, who won an Emmy™ for his efforts.)

You can make serious progress on almost anything from romance to entrepreneurship, and it’s fun, too!  (Speaking of the Starship Entrepreneurship, Shakespeare was, of course, a thespian in addition to being a cunning linguist, and only narrowly lost the role of Star Trek’s Captain Kirk to William Shatner. (It was a costuming issue, actually. Shakespeare’s extremely prominent third nipple was impossible to camouflage in the form-fitting Entrepreneurship uniforms. Also, Leonard Nimoy refused to work with him, after an unfortunate “hey-nonny-nonny” joke incident. (“Hey-nonny-nonny” jokes were, you will recall, the Shakespearean precursor to the “knock-knock” joke, two-thirds of Shakespearean plays having been written before the invention of doors.)))

You’ve definitely got a flair for keeping track of details. (Indeed.  Which is why we will at this point disclose that, in a stunning display of familial loyalty, Shakespeare’s great-grandson, Sherman Shakespeare, has obtained a job on the writing staff of Shatner’s new series, $#*! My Dad Says, and has sabotaged every script to date.  This has remained unknown until now because no one actually watches that show.)

So if you decide to help your sister/cousin/next-door neighbor/great uncle Max (Is that all the same person?  Are We suddenly from Alabama?  Or is it the cast list of Love’s Labour Lost? (Which, of course, Shakespeare used to pay for his beach house in Malibu by rewriting as the pilot for Three’s Company. ABC, naturally, couldn’t quite imagine a wacky sitcom starring Diana Rigg, Maggie Smith, and Sir John Gielgud, so they passed, but Shakespeare still got to keep his advance.))

out of a jam, (Or a K-Y Jelly™.  (You didn’t think We’d forgotten the smut, did you?))

they will sure be able to sleep easy knowing that you’ll dot their i’s and double-check their t’s. (Shouldn’t that be “double-CROSS their Ts”?  And what about their Fs? (In Ye Olde Middle Englifh of Shakespeare’s time, the letters S and F were the same letter.  “Shakespeare”, in fact, was the first English word to use the modern letter S.  Prior to that, it was F, F, F all the time.  As in, “but foft, what light through yonder window breakf?  It if the queef, and Juliet’f the fun.” (This, of course, was from a pre-Firft Folio version of Romeo and Juliet, in the first scene of which the words, “For a good time, call Juliet” are scrawled in the town square.  (Acts Two and Three of this version actually comprise the pilot episode of the short-lived TV-series, Bridget Loves Bernie, a recent drunken viewing of which is said to be the reason Meredith Baxter-Birney became a lesbian.))))

 They sure are lucky to have a sibling/next-door neighbor/cousin/grand niece or nephew like you!  (Well, you know Us; all things to all people.  Although We’re pretty sure that’s illegal in most states.  Much like Shakespeare’s original concept for The Flying Nun, in which all the roles were played, in the style of his day, by men.  This ill-conceived plan was scotched when Alejandro Rey refused to play the subtext of a romantic interest in Bob Denver’s Sister Bertrille.)

 Avoid any kind of inertia right now. (We shall sit very still until it passes.)

(And there, right in the middle of all of this Shakespearean claptrap, a little existential joke that would make the Bard himself pee green with envy.  Because We?  Are a Highly-Trained Professional.)

The urge to hover over the computer (Is nothing compared to the urge to Hoover your oeuvre. (We have no idea what We’re talking about, but don’t you just want to kiss Us right on the iambic pentameter?))

 and chat or browse all day might overwhelm you if you don’t do something early on. (Alternatively, do something oily in.  After you put something girly on. (Smut, smut, smut, smut, smut, smut, smut, smut….))

Invite a good friend to that new hot spot so you can see and be seen. (Hey nonny-nonny!  (Who’s there?) SEE YOU ALL TOMORROW NIGHT AT HELIUM!!!)
(Your YOUR-O-Scopes: )
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.