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Monday, February 13, 2012

Cherokee people! Cherokee tribe!

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for RazorBladesAndMondaysAlwaysSuckAClown, February 13, 2012.  So We know that you are all waiting with bated breath to hear about That Thing We Decided To Do.  Bated breath or baited hooks.  One of those.  Would the one of you who is waiting with hooker breath please go away and come back tomorrow?  KThxBye.

Oh, did We make you wait even longer?  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.  Anyway, one day last weekend, We were reading Our WorldWideInterWebNetz (We have finished reading most of them, but occasionally, someone writes something new), when We observed a SitOnMyFaceBook announcement from Our far-flung friend, Gregory GODDAMN! G. (Long-time Gentle Readers will recall that Gregory GODDAMN! G. is the love child of Christian Slater and the late lamented River Phoenix) to the effect that he and the equally lovely (and also far-flung) Kevin, who is, no doubt, the love child of two other lovely celebrity types, albeit not Christian Slater and the late lamented River Phoenix, were about to Make History.

My.  That sentence?  Was a long one.  (That’s what she said. (Meanwhile, how proud of Us are you for using “far-flung” twice in the same sentence and resisting the urge to rhyme it with “well-hung” both times?  Are We a classy broad or what? (Who said “Or what”?  We thought We told the one with the hooker breath to go home.)))

Anywhore, whenever We hear that attractive young men are Making History, We do so like to show up on the spot, as We Our Own Self Personally are historical (and, frequently, hysterical.  In both senses of the word), and there is always the off chance that We will accidentally get made in the bargain. So, after some lengthy debate with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, We scavenged the sofa cushions for spare change, sidesaddled up Paul Revere’s horse, and were off.

(A brief historical digression here, occasioned by the Paul Revere reference:  Minutemen.  What the hell is up with that?  Does that mean you need sixty of them for an hour?  They don’t all stay over, do they?  And expect breakfast?  Jeebus.)

The history-making in question was the creation of a cable-access TV show, written by and starring Mister GODDAMN! G. and his friend, Professor Smarticus, a local band called the Dejas, and a number of area celebrities, and produced, directed, filmed, and edited by Mister Kevin.  We regret to inform you that at no point did We accidentally get made along with the history, but We were able to keep Our attendance a surprise, and were gratified that people were genuinely happy to see Us.  Or they had guns in their pockets.  One of those.  (Who let Mae  West in here?)

So, yes, ladies and Gentle Ben, We saw the history-making, bought the T-shirt, and ate the wienerschnitzel, all in forty eight hours (eighteen of which were travel time.  For that not-so-fresh feeling. (No, that was not a euphemism; We ate actual wienerschnitzel.))

Speaking of Oscars™, please share Our Aquarius fillum with your friends:

(How was THAT for a goddamn segue?)

Also check out the other videos, which no doubt influenced Our friends the Jews for Jesus to ask for Our help.   Especially the “pick things up and put them down” parody.  (We do not recall if We’ve mentioned this, but the Jews for Jesus did indeed send Us their screener, and We have, in fact, screened it.  So, as soon as We get a moment in Our muumuu, you shall have a review to which to look forward.  Bate your breath, bait your hooks, and gargle your hookers.):

And now, Charlene Tilton and sixty Minutemen in a fillum entitled I Am Curious Jell-O™.  Also, here’s the HorrorScope:

Don’t panic  (DON’T TELL US WHAT TO DO!!!)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

— just hunker down! (Also, Hüsker Dü.  (Suffice it to say that a whole lotta history got made while We figgered out how to get those umlauts in there, for a joke that wasn’t even funny.  Sigh.))

You aren’t feeling at your best socially but that just means you’ve got time to get stuff done at home or on solo work projects. (“Solo work projects” is, of course, a euphemism.)

It can be a positive time for you.  (Are We sure about that?)

(If the humor is too suBtle for you, We suggest that you laugh anyway.)

(One minuteman a minute for sixty minutes must make for a real tired hooker.)

Your brain is extremely active right now, (How did it get out of the jar?)

and it’s making you very productive and ambitious. (Also, it is making Us be ambidextrous with both hands.)

Consequently, you will have little patience for people who try to slow you down. (Alternatively, the full stop could go after “people” and the sentence would still be true.)

If they can’t keep up with you, there’s no reason for you to delay your progress just to keep them company. (Also, fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.)

They’ll catch up. (But will they ketchup?  Or catsup?  And what, really, is the difference?)

Feeling introverted? (We never even got verted in the first place.  But, once We do, may We be introPERverted?  Or, better yet, EXTRAperverted?)

(Cunning linguistics, We has them.)

Start turning all your energy outward to make a bigger impact. (Was that a fat joke?  Or a  fart joke?  Or the dreaded combo fat-fart joke? (We are a highly-trained professional….do not try this at home.))

Coming out of your shell may seem impossible, but the more you spend time alone, the less likely you’ll be meeting people and having fun. (And yet, there’s always the “solo work project”.)

Get out there!  (Shut up!)

 (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.