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Monday, March 14, 2011

Lady willpower, it’s now or never, give your love to me

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monday, March 14, 2011.  Happy birthday to Berdine, who turns twenty-four today.  And happy belated birthday to Sean, who turned twenty-four over the weekend, albeit on The Left Coast, so, presumably, he turned twenty-four a few hours later than he ordinarily would have (on The Right Coast).  Of course, with the shift to Daylight Saving Time, he may have missed turning anything whatsoever.  In case anyone is concerned, it appears that he is still gorgeous.  So there’s that.

Within ten minutes of mounting (oooooohhh!) the WorldWideInterWebNetz this morning, We were sick to the very death of hearing about Pi Day, especially as we were fairly sure there was no pie in Our immediate future.  So, instead of wishing you a happy Pi Day, we shall wish you a Happy Daylight Saving Time Day. The fact that it was still light out a 7PM last evening did indeed warm the cockles of what passes for Our heart.  (Please pardon Us for a moment…first Sean, now cockles…We shall have to hunt down Our smelling salts, as  We are clearly about to have The Vapors.)

Himself, of course, is still fast abed, the change in time having completely addled what’s left of his brain.  (Although it wouldn’t surprise Us in the least if he were dreaming of Sean, and cockles, and Sean’s cockles. (We used to be into S&M, necrophilia, and bestiality, but then We realized We were just beating a dead horse.))  Himself and his little friends (that is, of course, they in today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Marcel Marceau Brigitte Bardot Jacques Cousteau Dack Rambo) are working their fingers to the funny bone to bring an hysterical evening of sketch comedy to the Helium Comedy Club this very Hump Day.   Here is an article you may have seen about them in today’s Metro on your morning commute:  and here is how you buy tickets, which, We are told, are selling like hot cakes.  Or hot cross buns.  Or hot Sean’s cockles.  Or something:  .

Here is another piece of media that just came in as We went to press:

So We’ll see you all on Wednesday, yes?

Despite occasional transgressions like Pi Day, We do so desperately love Our WorldWideInterWebNetz…how else would We get emails from SitOnMyFaceBook telling Us that “Ruth Buzzi has accepted your friend request”?

And now, from Our cockles to yours (and here’s an explanation of cockles that’ll dampen your ardor for the entire subject: , unless, of course, you immediately switch to thoughts of Sean’s hot cross buns), herewith Les Scopé du Horreur (some people speak Frawnch fluently…We speak it with a certain je ne sais crotch):

If you get things moving today, (And, having had Our bran, We no doubt will.)

you are sure to find that people are accommodating. (Yay!  Let the poo-flinging commence!)

(Micro$oft Weird™ would have it that “poo” is not a word.  Apparently, it has not heard of Winnie The Poo And Titter Two.  (We have discovered a fascinating legal loophole…obviously, child pornography is illegal when it is pornography with children IN it.  However, it becomes a much grayer area when it is pornography FOR children.  Look at Barney, for example.))

(So sorry.  We would tell you NOT to think about Barney now, but that would We suspect, have the opposite effect.  Much like if We said “try not to think about fornicating lemurs”, you would be able to think of precious little else BUT fornicating lemurs.  (Assuming, of course, that you know what a lemur is.  But then of course you are OUR Gentle Readers, so you’re clever that way. (Notice how it didn’t even cross Our mind(s) that you wouldn’t’ know what “fornicating” is.)))

(We initially mistyped “but then” as one word in the preceding (“butthen”), which, naturally, made Us think of “buttsex”, which, of course, brings Us full-circle back to Barney.)

(Whatever you do, DON’T think of Barney naked.)

(No, not Barney Rubble, either.)

(Wow.  That was a lot of stuff, and We’ve only had Kelli’s first sentence so far.  Moving (heh) on.)

Your energy favors initiative and momentum, (Not to mention Sucretia and her cousin, Mitochondria.)

especially in matters relating to the heart. (To say nothing of its cockles.  (No, really…say NOTHING. (We’ve just gotten Sean calmed down after “Winnie The Poo And Titter Two.”)))

Make a big change!  (This boy is a woman now…he’s found out what it's all about …and she's learning, learning to live ...)

(Many of you are now asking yourselves the musical question “Whatever happened to Gary Puckett and the Union Gap?”  (The youngsters, of course, are asking, ”What the fu(k is the old battleaxe nattering on about now?”)  Well, here is their very own website, whence you can order something called “The Lost Tapes”.  Which comes, cleverly, on CD.  You’re welcome. )

 You spent quite a bit of your hard-earned money last month — but it was Valentine’s Day, 
(Actually, We’re not sure how YOUR calendar works, but, on OUR calendar, last month was called “February”. Asshat.)

and we all tend to get a little crazy around then. (Who you callin’ crazy?)

It’s only surprising that you didn’t get crazier and spend even more than you did. (Speaking of spending, most of you are aware of Our financial situation, and the fact that We don’t have two nickels to rub together.  Well, in Our travels on Saturday, We actually found two nickels lying in the street.  So We brought them home,  and rubbed them together.  Maybe We did it wrong, because this “rubbing nickels together” business?  Not all it’s cracked up to be.  Just sayin’.)

 You’ve just realized that the one thing you didn’t buy was something you really, actually need for yourself — because the time just didn’t seem right. (Also, because what the hell are We supposed to buy with two nickels?)

(Micro$oft Weird™ would like Us to change “what the hell” in the preceding sentence  to “what”.  Micro$oft Weird™ needs to shut its fu(kin’ pi-hole, or We’re gonna change it to “what the fu(king fu(kety-fu(k?”)

Well, sit down with your pad and paper, and maybe you can work it out.  (Or sit down with your Maxi-Pad™ and your rolling papers, and maybe you won’t CARE if you work it out.)

Your reaction may be instantaneous, but do you really want to broadcast it as-is? (We are, at the moment, giving serious consideration to broadcasting ass-over-teakettle.)

Take a deep breath or two and let your feelings evolve. (Our feelings do not evolve.  Our feelings were all created by God in six days.  And on the seventh day, He was arrested.  For perjury.  The whackadoodles never tell that part.)

 Try bouncing them off someone close. (We are looking long and hard (hi, Sean) for an appropriate antecedent for “them”.  We thought she might be making a poo-flinging reference, but then We realized that appropriately-flung poo sticks, it doesn’t bounce.   So We have decided, in Our infinite wisdom, that “them” refers to old Smith-Corona typewriters.)

(Duck, Ducks!)

(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.