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Friday, July 15, 2011

We gots plenty o’ nuttin’, and nuttin’s plenty for We




                                           



Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Frisée, July 15, 2011.  So.  The Harry Potter series is over.  Rosebud was a sled.  Daniel Radcliffe’s penis.  Whatevs. We got nothin’.

 We do, however, have this amazing video, in which the most adorable puppies and kittens dream of rainbows and unicorns. In 3D.  And you don’t even need to wear those funny glasses.  Check it out, why don’t’cha?

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for (although not waiting very long, eh?): Angela Lansbury’s pap smear. Alternatively, the HorrorScope:

(Is anyone else now envisioning Angela Lansbury and Daniel Radcliffe starring in a remake of Harold and Maude?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

Plan ahead today (We would love to plan head today.  Unfortunately, that requires another consenting adult, and We don’t know any.  Adults, that is.)

— your mental energy (Jigga wut?)

is just right for nailing down details (We are thinking that We could nail them down a lot faster with a nail gun.  Are there battery-operated nail guns?  Because We are thinking that people would not fuck with you on the subway if you were carrying a battery-operated nail gun.)

and making sure that you can cope with all the consequences, (Consequently, Consuela coped with the consequences in Copenhagen.  (We are thinking that perhaps We shall give up Our dream of becoming a best-selling children’s book author, as We cannot seem to find an illustrator, and devote Ourselves to writing English-As-A-Second-Language primers.  Obviously, “Consequently, Consuela coped with the consequences in Copenhagen” beats the living crap out of “The pencil of my uncle is in the garden.” Because what the hell is “the pencil of my uncle”?  (We are now imagining an entire chapter devoted to explaining to some poor foreigner what We mean by “the living crap”.)))

 whatever they may be. (Que sera, sera…kiss Us quick, We’re Doris Day. (If Doris Day married Dennis Day, then divorced him and married Morris Day, then divorced him and married Daniel Day-Lewis, she’d be, in addition to a slut, Doris Day Day Day Day-Lewis.  (Alternatively, she’d be Doris Quadruple-D Lewis, but then she’d have to go into porn.  (That was one of those bones We occasionally like to throw Our str8 boi readers.  (Of course, if you’re boned thinking about an eighty-seven year-old woman with breastusses the size of medicine balls, We are thinking you might want to seek some professional help.)))))

Think it all through!  (Then fink it all froo! Because that’s more fun!)

You will be dealing with quite a few people who care only about appearances today (What if they only appear to care only about appearances?  How will We know?)

— they are interested in cutting corners (And corning cutters, and courting cunners, and curing cunters.  (Didn’t see THAT coming, didja?))

and playing some tricks if that will help them look good. (See, they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.  But don’t tell that to Doris Quadruple-D Lewis , star of Doris Does Dallas. (That, of course, is the porn movie she made with Larry Hagman.))

You should be careful to distance yourself from these folks as early as possible. (How did We get tanced with them in the first place? (That was a bit of cunning linguistic humor that almost went awry when Micro$oft Weird™ attempted to autocorrect “tanced” to “tanked”.))

If you appear to be in cahoots with them, (“Cahoots”?  Really?)

some very influential people could get the wrong idea about who you are and what you are all about. (We are all about the Hokey-Pokey.)

Sticking up for your values is an opportunity to reinforce your values — (On the other hand, sticking up for an eighty-seven year-old woman with breastusses the size of medicine balls is a cry for help.)

remember that.  (That, and the Alamo.  Ooops; now We’ve forgotten the first thing.)

 If you’re freaked about a future in which you’re the only single left in your group, relax. (We are only single because there happens to be, at the moment, an odd number of people on the planet, and We are the odd Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) out.)

Just because you’re solo, that doesn’t mean a partner would solve all your problems. (But if he would solve ANY of them, wouldn’t We be ahead of where We are now?)

 A few of your coupled friends are jealous of your freedom right now. (Yeah, okay, whatevs.  We would like to take this opportunity to commend Our Gentle Reader who, according to Our Google Bloggoni-O-Meter, found these pages this week by searching “eric” and “jury doody”.  If you would care to identify yourself, We have a surprise prize for you.  (Okay, it’s copy of Doris Does Dallas.))


(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

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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.