Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Today, October 27, 2011. Oh, shut up. To recap from yesterday, Our bathroom lighting fixture is now detached from the ceiling, hanging suspended by its wires at the perfect level to smash the medicine cabinet door and/or One’s head against it. It continues to thwart all of Our efforts to open it and change its light bulbs, which would also be part of the process to reattach it to the ceiling. We are now the proud owner of a thoroughly useless and yet extremely decorative fifteen-dollar adjustable wrench, which chortled wrenchily at Our efforts to tighten it around the light fixture’s nipple. (We will not be resurrecting yesterday’s extended tit metaphor. Sorry, str8 bois. (We will also be letting “wrenchily” stand, despite Micro$oft Weird™’s admonitions to the contrary.))
It may interest you to know that, despite the inclusion of a wrench as one of the murder weapons in the board game Clue™, there has never in recorded history been a successful suicide with a wrench as the predominant instrument. And, since none of YouPeople appear to be willing to come over here and kill Us (and since We wouldn’t let you in if you DID come…despite having smashed all the mirrors (perhaps that wrench wasn’t COMPLETELY useless), We have some idea of what We must look like, and it isn’t pretty), We would seem to be, for the moment, safe from doing Ourself a mischief.
But ONLY because the hardware store where We obtained the wrench didn’t seem to sell handguns.
Meanwhile, for those of you who have been clenching Uranus waiting for a “monkey wrench” joke, We are here to tell you that We are way more sophisticated than that. Hell, We know what a Phillllips Head ScrewDriver is, although We neither know nor care how many Ls Phillllip used in his name, and can only imagine what the poor man’s head looked like. The correct technical term for Our particular wrench is “Didja-Know-That-‘Shiny’-Is-Not-A-Function Wrench”.
Additionally, We are pretty sure We did not mention in yesterday’s screed that We woke up with a sore throat, which later in the day developed into a full-blown head-and-chest cold, complete with gastrointestinal issues and a sore on one eyelid that We’re pretty sure is leprosy.
And now, having fulfilled Our raison d’être of making your lives seem better by comparison to Ours (parenthetically, suddenly We are hungry for a raisin scone. Or a raison d’être scone. Unfortunately, We are out of eggs, so, unless there’s a sudden random chicken invasion, We suspect that We shall remain raison d’être sconeless. (Oh, “sconeless” is so too a word. It’s the English translation of the Frawnch’s much more elegant “sans scone”.)) , here is a quick and totally arbitrary Charlene Tilton reference, followed by the HorrorScope:
Your aggressive tendencies are out in the open today, (Oh, please. We could barely muster the energy to have a tendency, let alone an aggressive one.)
and you need to do something about that. (We’re pretty sure We won’t be “doing something” till Saturday or Sunday.)
Make sure you don’t unleash your fury on someone undeserving — things are still freaky between you. (Okay, all these descriptions of activity? Are making Us tired.)
Isn’t it funny that sometimes the worst thing that can happen is to get exactly what you hoped for? (How the hell would We know?)
Today a certain someone who has never given you the time of day will suddenly bathe you in all sorts of attention. (That would be just Our luck…Johnny Depp lifts the restraining order, and We’ve got a runny nose and leprosy.)
While you may be flattered at first, (Are you sure you don’t mean “flattened”?)
things could become a little bit uncomfortable between the two of you. (Fluorescent green bodily secretions will tend to have that effect.)
Familiarity breeds contempt, and now that the mystery is gone, the reality might be rather disappointing. (Wow. Way to bring down the room. Asshat.)
Learn from this and keep moving. (Yeah. ‘Cause what We need in life is one more Learning Experience.)
Searching for hidden meanings between the lines of emails and in pregnant pauses during phone calls may be sound advice in detective novels, but in the real life these ‘clues’ only cause confusion. (Oh, great. So now We’re gonna be pregnant on top of everything else. Does this wrench “adjust” into a coat hanger?)
Don’t assume the worst. (Why? We’re always right when We do.)
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.