Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Thursday, May 12, 2011.
Starzina is virtually BESIDE Herself this morning, as She awoke to find a piece of truly excellent news in Her email, as well as discovering that She had finally totally and completely entered the Third Person…
Once more, with grammar. We are beside Ourself with glee this morning…We do so love consorting with Highly Trained Professionals. Not, mind you, that We can share the source of Our rapture with you just yet, but all in good time. (Did We say “rapture”? The wingnuts would have Us all believe that The Rapture is coming on May 21th. We, meanwhile, haven’t a THING to wear. However, the day before that, Friday, May 20st, We shall share with you the source of Our Own Personal rapture, which, trust Us, is much better than whatever the wingnuts are promising. (Does it occur to no one that, if the people who THINK they are going to Heaven actually wind up there, no one else will want to be there? For, ya know, ETERNITY? Jeebus.))
But enough about that. (With all the hints We’ve been dropping We’re surprised none of you have figgered it out for your own selves.) You may recall a recent episode in which Our maimed big toe was performing Mame, as big toes are wont to do. Well, last night, Our maimed big toe went all highbrow cultured on Us and started performing excerpts from Sweeney Todd. Fortunately, We were taking the trash out when the giant blood blister that Ate Her Father’s Foot (what movie is that from?) burst in glorious Technicolor™, so the only thing We besmirched was Our front stoop.
Some of Our more intellectual readers will no doubt imagine that “taking the trash out” is some sort of euphemism. No, We were taking the trash out.
And thus is a subject well and truly changed. Like an old lady’s Depends™ before Sunday services. (Word pixtures…We paintz them.)
It occurs to Us that We have been remiss in mentioning Himself’s endeavors (or, indeed, come to think of it, Himself), so We should point out that, following their critically acclaimed sold-out performance at Helium Comedy Club in March, the WaitStaff Sketch Comedy Strormtroopers will triumphantly return to same on June 1th, and would love to see you there. Further info can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=216397555056276 Tickets here: https://www.seatengine.com/venue/helium-comedy-club/event/471
Suddenly it occurs to Us that, despite Our rapturous mood, We are not really feeling like All That. Although, if We are in fact under the weather, it is indeed lovely weather under which to be.
Let’s have a HorrorScope, shall We?
Frustration starts to set in today, as you find that people you thought you could count on leave you holding the bag. (Well, as long as it matches Our shoes. Meanwhile, if We could just get people to return Our phone calls/emails/smoke signals, We would hold all the bags they wanted. We about had a coronary yesterday when someone actually answered an email WITHIN AN HOUR. Of course the answer was “no”, but still.)
As long as you can cope with the details, (And as long as you can dope their cocktails…)
you should be okay to keep up with the flow. (It being, naturally, a heavy flow day. And that being just Our big toe. Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd…)
Just because you’ve been close to someone for years doesn’t mean you know them like the back of your hand. (How much time do people actually spend sitting around looking at the back of their hand? Don’t they have anything better to do?)
There are new depths to explore in your relationship. (Indeed. Ahem.)
If you can’t understand their actions or changes, you must ask them. (Alternatively, kill them. Puts a quick end to all those pesky incomprehensible “actions” and “changes”, that does.)
Open up communications. (We’d rather not discuss that right now.)
(Heh. See what We did there?)
You will both turn a corner together, and what lies ahead of you is a lifetime of adventures and joy. (We’ll have what she’s smoking.)
Let this positivism buoy you in other areas of your life. (We appear to have veered off into someone else’s horoscope entirely, haven’t We?)
(Attend the sale of Teeny Wad…)
Even at work, (?)
you can create a bright future by talking more honestly. (That? Is a bold-faced lie.)
Now is an awesome time to seek out new people and places. (Shouldn’t that be “TOTally awesome”? And shouldn’t you Shut? Up? Kelli?)
Try something wild and nutty (Oh, go fu(k a squirrel.)
— if you ever wanted to run the rapids, do it now. (Sorry…have We met? What is the likelihood of Our desiring to “run the rapids”? Whatever the hell THAT is.)
Work those guilty pleasures and see who pops up. (If the preceding sentence is wrong, We don’t wanna be right. (Apparently, blind lipsticked pig found an acorn. And then sang “Found A Peanut”. Just to piss people off.))
(We accidentally typed “Peanut” as “Peebut”. Freudian slip, or watersportsian foul? “There’s a flag on the play…”)
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.