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Friday, October 21, 2011

Roll me in designer sheets, I’ll never get enough


Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for  Frito-Lay-Bets-You-Can’t-Eat-Just-One-And-Oddly-Enough-They’re-Not-Talking-About-Dicks, October 21, 2011.  So, happy Friday, kidz.  Funny how this week seemed so short, and yet last week seemed so long. (Farewell, auf wiedersehn, goodbye.) Not, of course, so much “funny: ha-ha” as “funny: nobody ever got BOTH hands up there before”.

As you can see, We’ve totally got nothing today.  In fact, We venture to say, We’ve got PLENTY of nothing, and nothing’s plenty for We.  But Happy Rapture Day, y’all.  Or should We say, Happy Rapture Re-run Day.  We were GOING to ascend directly into Heaven, but We couldn’t figure out what to pack.  Is it cold there this time of year?  Because that hardly seems like Heaven to Us.  We’re pretty sure We haven’t a THING to wear.  And don’t tell Us One doesn’t need clothes in Heaven.  Because looking at all y’all nekkid doesn’t sound like Heaven to Us, neither.  Judging from some of your faces, your birthday suits need pressing.

Oh, well.  Maybe that prune-faced old bible beat-off got his date wrong.  Again.  Ya think?  He’ll no doubt just reschedule.  And yet, the wingnut whackadoodles who want these lunatics to take over the gummint will continue to campaign.  Sigh.

It’s really just as well We won’t be having the Rapture today.  There are only so many Blondie jokes One can make.  (There are, on the other hand, any number of Dagwood jokes.  And don’t get Us started on Mister Dithers.)

That right there was a little bait-and-switch comedy.  You thought We were gonna do Debbie Harry jokes, and We went all Penny Singleton on your asses.  That, of course, is because there ARE no Debbie Harry jokes.

(Our old folks readers are all like, “Who the fuck is Debbie Harry?”  Meanwhile, all of Our readers under the age of a hundred and two are all like, “Who the fuck is Penny Singleton?”  Because We?  Are an equal-opportunity “who-the-fuck-er”.)

(With a fuck-fuck here, and a fuck-fuck there, here a fuck, there a fuck, everywhere a fuck-fuck… Who-The-Fuck-er had a farm, EE-YI-EE-YI-OH.)

(Nothing like a little sing-along first thing in the morning, is there?)

In other other news, Starzina’s Time Of The Month Horoscope: Libra is winding into its final days; you can either click to watch it here:

 


 or share this link with your friends with Libra birthdays:


Soon, We will be entering Scorpio.  (Scorpio loves when We do that.  Especially with no warning.)  But first, the HorrorScope:

Today should feel like an adventure (Sometimes you feel like Our nuts; sometimes you don’t.)

— and you are the hero, of course!  (We?  Are the heroine.  But not, unfortunately, the heroin.  Because clearly, We are an easy habit to kick. (In Our universe, the phrase “kick the habit” was coined because who doesn’t hate nuns?))

It’s a great time to say hello to a new love interest or to shift gears and start off in an entirely new direction.  (We would shift gears, but We cannot drive a stick.  And this?  Is a dirty, dirty analogy.  Slut.)

You’re going to be very quick on your feet today, (Also light in Our loafers.)

which means your reaction time will be fast — but will it be too fast?  (That depends…how many habits do We have to kick?)

Think out every move you make, carefully and methodically. (These things must be done delicately.)

(We are now pixturing Margaret Hamilton on a Woolite™ commercial.)

(Are We going too fast for you?)

 Like a championship chess player, you should anticipate other people’s moves and stay several steps ahead.  (The way things are going these days, We’d be lucky to be a championship Candyland™ player.)

This isn’t a competitive thing; (It’s a black thang; you wouldn’t understand, yo.)

 it’s a time-saving thing. (Will Our time earn interest?  Because, so far, it’s not very interesting.)

You don’t want to do something that you’ll just end up having to do again a few days from now, do you?  (That depends.  Are We talking “re-grout the bathroom” or “sex with Johnny Depp”?)

 Today be gracious towards friends who want to set you up on a date. (Shut the front door!  Who are these “friends”, and why do they never call to set up these dates?)

 Even though blind dates can be nerve-wracking, (Especially when they try to light your cigarettes for you.)

(Wait for it…THERE ya go!)

you never know when you might meet your next big romance by chance. (Wearing pants in France with Vivian Vance.)

Your pals know you best, so let them have a chance to prove their Cupid capabilities. (Oh, dear.  Not Cupid stunts, AGAIN…)


 (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.