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Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Wednesday, March Twoth.  Happy Hump Day to each and every last muthahumping one of all y’all.  Despite the excitement of Hump Day and the spring-like appearance of today’s weather, We can pretty much assure you that today’s Erix Daily Horoscope won’t hold a patch to yesterday’s, (whatever the hell “hold a patch to” means), what with the Bieber birfday and Attack of the Playtex™ Living Girdle and all.   Come to think of it, Monday’s episode was pretty sparklicious as well, what with the Gay Super Bowl recap and the incredible tooting midgets.  Day-um, YouPeople expect a lot in your morning email for FREE.  Meanwhile, the law of Six Degrees of Separation states that We should be only six of YouPeople away from Justin Bieber reading his Erix Daily Horoscope birfday tribute.  That, of course, assumes (thereby making an ass of you and Uma Thurman) that any of YouPeople got up off your nakedly skimming asses and actually forwarded the thing.

DO any of YouPeople ever share these epistles with others?  (Helloooo?  Is there an echo in here?  (Does anyone else hear the sound of one hand clapping erasers? (Does the concept of clapping erasers mean that We are dating Ourself?  And, if We are in fact dating Ourself, are We at least buying Ourself a nice dinner before We expect Us to put out?  (Why are We woefully sure that, even if We were (subjunctively) dating Ourself, We would wind up deciding We would rather just be friends?))))

Meanwhile, a big-shout out to Our fan Chris, the only fan we have, to the best of Our knowledge, who is not connected to Us Our Own Self or to any of YouPeople.  He found Us by Googling something or another on Wikipedia (“Paranoid schizophrenic”?  “World domination fantasies”?  “Inappropriate undergarments”?  The possibilities are endless.) and has asked that We dust off Our seldom-actually-used Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopular) skills to have a go at (heh) his chart.  We have put same on Our To-Do list, and hope to move it to Our Ta-Da list shortly.

And now, without further To-Do, and a complete absence of Ta-Da, the bitch who puts the Ass Ho into Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulism), Kelli, and her crack-addle-pated prognostications, avec commentary from Moi.  (See how a little Frawnch classes up the joint? (Why does Micro$oft Weird™ think “moi” is misspelled, but “avec” is perfectly fine?))

Turn your eyes toward the new today (Apparently, English is Kelli’s second (or third) language.  What the hell does that even mean?)

and see what’s coming up next. (Ask Ethel Merman you happen to see…what’s coming up next?  Roses.)

(Our more mature readers now have two songs dueling for supremacy in their heads.  Our less mature readers are still singing Justin Bieber’s “Baby, Baby, Baby”. Apres moi, les splooge.)

Things are looking good for you, (That’s what Helen Keller said.)

and if you can surf tomorrow’s trends, (Oh, Kelli.  “Surf”?  Really?  You are so hep to the jive, Daddy-O.)

you should be able to keep up your momentum.  (“Momentum” being, naturally, a euphemism.)

No one really likes criticism, (That’s not true, you fu(king incompetent idiot!  Why don’t you check your facts from time to time, instead of spewing forth whatever idiocy leaps into what passes for the windmills of your mind?)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

but from to time, everyone needs to hear it — including you. (Whatevs.  Meanwhile, if you’re completely bored with today’s horoscope, and you’ve already forwarded it to six friends, here is a game you can play: 

Right now, you’ll benefit from the feedback of others, (To say nothing of the beefcake of others.  Pixtures of which have been promised Us in exchange for services rendered.)

so ask around about your latest endeavor.  (Beaver Cleaver…Endora’s endive…nope, We’ve got nothin’.)

Find out what they really think of your ideas and methods. (Who gives a shit?)

Could they be improved? (Oh, please.  Like it gets any better than this.)

Swallow your pride (Honey, if We could do that, We’d never leave the house.)

and don’t expect to hear singing praises. (Well, of course not.  It’s rude to sing with your mouth full.)

A healthy ego is important, (Leggo my ego!)

but so is humility. (Humility is right up there with sincerity.  If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.)

Today, your assignment is to grab a slice of humble pie and dig right in!  (Can’t We have humble cannoli instead?  (Is that a cannoli in your pocket, or are you just happy to see Us?))

 This morning’s ambitions might lead to success as early as this evening. (We love the smell of ambition in the morning.)

What do you put your mind to: Asking out that one big crush, or maybe rebooting profile (“Maybe rebooting profile”?  What the hell language is THAT?)

into something that is sure to draw attention? (Shut. Up. Kelli.)

(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.