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Monday, November 14, 2011

Little Red Courgette™


Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monte Hall, November 14, 2011.  Happy birthday to Shaun, who turns twenty-four today, all the way over in London.  England.  The UK.  Or, as We like to call it, the YUK.  Home of fish and chips.  And rugby.  And Prince Harry’s penis.  Sigh.  Also happy birthday to Joe, who also, coincidentally, turns twenty-four today.  In New York City.  The Big Apple.  The City That Never Sleeps.  N-Y-C, what is it about you?  I like the island Manhattan; smoke on your pipe and put that in.  Clearly, Erix Daily Horoscope has Gone Global, George Gobel.  (The first person who makes a fat joke gets stricken from Our Christmas list.)

Micro$oft Weird™, meanwhile, is objecting to the possessive “Harry’s” in the preceding.  How else would you like Us to indicate that it is, in fact, the Prince’s penis, no matter how many people he may periodically lend it to? (Micro$oft Weird™ does NOT object to the possessive “Prince’s”, but that doesn’t really do the job, since, as I’m sure either of them would tell you, Prince Harry’s penis is not Prince William’s, and, conversely, Prince William’s penis is not Prince Harry’s. (Further flummoxing (We love that word) Us is the fact that Micro$oft Weird™ has no problem with the possessive “William’s”; it’s as if they just don’t want poor Prince Harry to have a penis.  Or they want Prince William to have two. (Note to self:  new children’s book:  Prince William Has Two Penises: The Sequel to Heather Has Two Mommies.)))

Whew!  That’s a lotta stuff about penises so early in the morning.  (How much will you pay Us NOT to say, “We love the smell of penis in the morning”? (Actually, you already owe Us for the fact that not once in the preceding paragraph did We so much as mention The Artist Formerly Known As Prince.  (Or his penis.)))

In completely unrelated news, because We are awesome, and, more importantly, have awesome friends, last night We found Ourself at a local food emporium’s Pumpkin Beer Dinner, at which We enjoyed an autumnal four-course dinner accompanied by five different pumpkin-based craft beers.  We would describe it further, but those of you with any sense (and We’re sure you’re both very nice) are already penis-green with envy.

Oooops…did We say “penis” again?  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad. (What would “penis-green” even be?  We shall offer a prize for the best answer.)

Having had a good time earlier in the evening, We naturally needed to be punished by The Universe, so of course, We woke up in the middle of the night and managed to punch Ourself in the eye as We attempted to pull up Our covers.  Stars were seen.

It came to Our attention that We completely ignored 11/11/11 in its numerological sense.  So We’ve spent the past half hour searching for That Episode of Erix Daily Horoscope in which We collected all extant episodes from dates such as 7/7/7, 8/8/8, 9/9/9, 10/10/10, etc.  Do you think We could find the bloody thing?  No, We could not.  Bugger.  (Another prize for the locator of same.)

So instead, here’s this:


Share it with your goddamn friends, or you’ll wake up and punch yourself in the eye:


And now, here’s Prince Harry and Prince William, penis-swordfighting with The Artist Formerly Known As Prince. (They teach penis-swordfighting in prince school, you know. (Especially to the princesses.))  Alternatively, here’s the HorrorScope:

You need to get out there and do things  (Way to be specific.)

— it almost doesn’t matter what (If it doesn’t matter, why do it?)

(“Why do it?” was, of course, a slogan rejected by Nike.  Go figger.)

though you should keep it legal. (You, Missy, are the damper on Our fun, the hamper on Our sun, and the poopy Pamper™ on Our bum.  (Somewhere in there is a staggeringly brilliant haiku.  Somebody call up a Chinaman to come ferret it out.))

Your energy is a little down for now, but it’s not good for you to keep it that way.  (Pass Us that crackpipe, Bay-Bee.)

Whatever emotion you feel today should be embraced and celebrated.  (Oh, Ennui, We have missed you so!  Come, let Us clasp you to Our bosom with your companions, Malaise and Melancholy.)

(Is it just US, or is it getting downright fucking poetical in here this morning?)

From elation to depression, everything should be given its fair amount of time. (And they would, if only Tedium didn’t keep getting greedy and taking more than his share.)
  
So don’t suppress that inconvenient attack of the giggles — let it out, and the longer you laugh, the more likely it is that the folks around you will join in.  (One would imagine that that would bode well for this evening’s WaitStaff writers’ meeting.  (Have We mentioned the WaitStaff Christmas show in here lately?  Tuesday, December 20 at 8PM at Helium Comedy Club: The Real Housewives Of South Philly Occupy Christmas.  Tickets can be had here: https://www.seatengine.com/venue/helium-comedy-club/event/897  ))

The same goes for a blue fog that may descend over you in the late afternoon.  (Later that evening, One will enjoy a magenta mist, a violet vapor, a heliotrope haze,  and a cerise smoke.  Hey, just because One is depressed doesn’t mean One ceases to be gay.)

 Let yourself feel these emotions — it’s the healthiest way to get through them.  (Actually, We are pretty sure that a rousing penis-swordfight would also do the trick.)

Meditate today on what you want from your next relationship. (Did We not just say “a rousing penis swordfight”?  Why do you never listen to Us?)

Do you want something casual and fun? (Well, We’ve certainly never had a FORMAL penis swordfight.  Or, for that matter, one that wasn’t fun.)

Or maybe you’re ready for a serious commitment?  (Hmmm…penis swordfighting in straightjackets…now THERE’S a pixture!)

Weigh your options carefully and proceed with an open mind.  (Our mind is wide open and fully dilated.  Presumably that’s why things keep falling out of it.)

 (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.