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Monday, January 23, 2012

It’s up to you, New York, New York

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for AndThenThere’sMaudlin, January 23, 2012.  Happy birthday to Deedee, who turns twenty-four today, somewhere in the wilds of New Jersey.   (Why is it still NEW Jersey?  And NEW York?  Are travelers actually going to get confused? “Yeah, the missus was trying to read the map, and we took a wrong turn at Iceland, and wound up in Jersey instead of NEW Jersey.”  And what does any of this have to do with New Mexico?)

You are probably still in shock out there in GentleReaderLand (note that it’s not NEW GentleReaderLand) to have heard from Us twice in one weekend. We apologize for digressing so retardedly so early in the morning, but We were just sitting, sipping Our iced coffee and minding Our Own damn beeswax, when the WorldWideInterWebNetz vomited forth one of those horrifying articles that freeze the cockles of One’s tasteful little heart. (Personally, We are fairly sure that, if your heart has cockles, you should be off to see the cardiologist, but that would involve another digression of the sort We have sworn to eschew (gesundheit (thank you)).)

You know the horrifying articles We mean.  The ones about  (duhn-DUHN): Successful Bloggers.  “Oh, yes”, they titter, “My friends and I were all sitting around, sipping an amusing little petite syrah, and talking about opposable thumbs, when suddenly it occurred to me that I  have opposable thumbs, and my friends all laughed and said, ‘You should make a blog about that’, so I did, and now, two weeks later, I earn enough income blogging to support myself and the entire country of Burkina Faso, I’m married to Johnny Depp, and Princess Diana has been reincarnated as my housekeeper, chef, and personal yoga instructor.”

We cannot be the only person who wants to pound these people’s faces in with a ball peen hammer.  If only for the redundancy of “little petite”.  Meanwhile, here We sit, toiling in obscurity, earning not so much as a farthing with which to bless Oursleves, and We can’t even get YouPeople to pass along Our video to your friends:

(How was THAT for a goddamn segue?)

Meanwhile, We’ve got to be e-pistling along, as the script for Our Pisces video is now overdue.  So blah-blah-blah Charlene Tilton, and here’s the HorrorScope:

You can’t go it alone today (But We bet We’ll have to.)

— but you can set the pace and lead the charge.  (Oh, Glasshoppah.  It is not possible to lead if no one is following.)

Your ability to get others to follow is legendary, (You are, clearly, using that word in its “imaginary” sense.)

and today is the day that it all comes together for you. (We must assuredly all come together, or some pieces sold separately.  Also, batteries not included.)


Don’t be shy!  (Don’t be an asshat.)

The connection you’ve got cookin’ with someone else is getting more complicated right now, (“Cookin’”?  Seriously?)

and today you might want to step back and look at things from an outsider’s perspective. (MC Escher’s or MC Hammer’s?  (Or MC Lars’s?  (We just discovered him.  We are apparently a bit behind the curve.  Our pop culturez, let Us show them to you: )))

Don’t get nervous that the potential you see isn’t really there. (Potentially?)


But you have to be ready to accept that this person has a few opportunistic tendencies (And/or infections.)

and other negative qualities that could become an issue later. (Hey, as long as he’s making a small fortune blogging about his fucking opposable thumbs, We’re good to go.)

No one is perfect, including them — and you need to realize that. (Don’t tell Us what to do.  You are not the boss of Us!)

 Being faster than a speeding bullet only works for superheroes. (But leaking Paul Williams and a thousand clowns works for anybody.)

(Vacation time shares in Our mind are half off for the months of February and March.)

You’ve been so busy lately that your social life is nothing but a blur. (Oh, is THAT what that is?)

Slow down so you can appreciate the things worth hitting the pause button for. (It is an unfortunate alphabetical happenstance that the pause button and the panic button are right next to each other.)

 (Your Your-O-Scopes:

(Meanwhile, why We didn’t think of this sooner, We’ve got no idea, but better laid than necking, as they say (and how right they are!).  For real live actual ass(tromlaogical) ho(roscopular) advice, please visit Our good friend AstroGeek here:  Our Own epistular musings are of use to you only insofar as making you feel better by comparison, but he will give you actual pertinent advice for your very own lives, based on upon the positions and transitations of all manner of planets, planetoids, asteroids, Altoids™, hemorrhoids, and other heavenly flotsam, jetsam, and Jetsons.  Plus, he knows all about Uranus!)
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.