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Friday, February 17, 2012

We’ll have a gay old time!

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Frisee, February 17, 2012.  Why, just one week ago, We were soaking up culture in the place of employment of The Lovely And Talented Gregory GODDAMN! G., and now here We are, spewing culture upon The Masses like Santorum on Uranus.   Thyme fries when you’re shaving nuns.  (You Yanks and your quaint sayings…what’ll you think of next?)

We have probably already mentioned that, on Our recent whirled travels, We had that rare experience of turning up in front of people unexpectedly and having said people be 100% happy to see Us.  Which, of course, does not happen very often, because (A.) We mostly turn up in front of people expectedly and (2.) DUH.  Having had the aforementioned rare experience, however, We are currently ever so much more sensitive to the opposite.  We’re just sayin’.

In still other news, because Our pediatrician’s minions are incapable of operating a fax machine, immediately upon finishing e-pisstling upon All Y’All today, We must venture forth in search of a fax machine of Our very own.  Which is distressing because (1.) how can We entrust these people with such things as looking up Our ass to tell Us if Our hat’s on straight when they can’t even press a few buttons on a machine and (B.) who the hell faxes anything anymore?  Right?  Doesn’t “fax machine” sound just like “eight-track tape player” and “mimeograph” and “abacus”?  Have We unwittingly turned up on an episode of The Flintstones?  Again?  Sigh.

Desperate times call for sex with Lee Majors.

(What does that even MEAN?)
So where in Bedrock does One go to “fax”?  One is thinking Kinkos…which presumably means going all the way into town.  (One’s printer is totally capable of “faxing”, but would require a “landline”.  Perhaps One will go to PetCo instead and acquire a “carrier pigeon”.)

Speaking of Oscars™ (We ejaculated, segueing like a henway on a Segway (What’s a henway, you ask?  About a pound and a half more than a carrier pigeon. (See how We tie it all together in a neat little package?  And send it Pony Express?))), We are practically ready to pop with pride as We anticipate premiering Our Pisces e-pissode of Starzina’s Time Of The Month Horoscopes.  But, in the meantime, please share Our Aquarius fillum with your friends.  (We don’t know why We keep saying that.  You don’t do it, and We have no idea why.  Don’t you wish your SitOnMyFaceBook friends a happy birthday on their SitOnMyFaceBook walls?  Just drop the following link in the box first.  Easy-peasy lemon squeezy.):


And now, Charlene Tilton sings The Star-Spangled Banner. In Pig Latin.  Alternatively, the HorrorScope:


Try taking a giant step (Why? Are We playing Simon Says?  Or, in this case, Asshat Says?)


(Heh.  “Asshat says, take a giant step.”  Fuck no; you’re an asshat.)


away from your usual thinking (Usually, We’re not thinking.  Today, however, We are looking for a fax machine.  Too bad We don’t have a horseless carriage; We could probably crank up Our flivver and be faxing in no time.)


(Is it just Us, or did “crank up Our flivver” sound really, really dirty?)


(Twenty-three skidoo!)


and find a way to express big, wild ideas (Here’s a big, wild idea:  who the hell needs to fax anything when there’s, oh, We don’t know, email?  And online file transfer?  And about seven hundred and eleventy-twelve kabillion other ways to transmit data from A to 2 without handling pieces of paper or leaving your house?  Jeebus!)


in ways that your more mundane colleagues can understand. (Fortunately, the sentence “fuck this shit” contains only one-syllable words.  You’re welcome.)


You can make almost anything happen!  (Fax this shit.)


(Heh.  See what We did there?)


Keep in mind (Of all the things We’ve lost, We miss Our mind the most.)


that there is a difference between having an independent thought and just being contrary (Also, there is a difference between both of those and being Mary Mary Quite Contrary, in that the latter requires foundation garments and quite a bit of makeup.)


 — you will need to understand this distinction today when you are in a group situation. (Somewhere in there was a vile, filthy euphemism just yearning to rear its turgid purple head.)


(Is it getting warm in here?)


Being the lone voice of opposition can be invigorating, but try not to get too caught up in the attention you receive. (We are so poor, We cannot even pay attention.)




(Heh. SWWDT?)

Sometimes, listening to the voices of conventional wisdom is the right thing to do. (We do everything the voices tell Us to do.)


Everything they’re saying might not be in line with what you want to do, but it’s close enough.  (For gummint work.)


A new crush could end up making your work life more exciting. (An Orange Crush™ could end up staining your tongue and putting you into a sugar coma.)


 But be discrete when it comes to an office romance. (Especially if you’re romancing the fax machine.  Because, seriously, nobody wants to hear about that. Yes, you can find porn on the WorldWideInterWebNetz for just about every fetish, no matter how narrow its niche.  But there is no such thing as office equipment porn.)


(We were totally talking out of Uranus just then (which is, of course, ventriloquism porn), so, being An Inquiring Mind Who Wants To Know (no, really; who wants to know?), We are now going off to verify Our assertion.)


(Okay, so We Googled “office equipment porn” on Wikipedia and only got 92 hits. And, upon further investigation, We discovered that most of these appear to be simply pictures of office equipment that people really, really like (but not in the way Rick Santorum likes Uranus), so We stand by Our previous statement: there is no such thing as office equipment porn.)


Not everyone will approve of flirting by the water cooler or candy machine. (Now you’re just being a tease.)


(Alright, time for Us to fax off!  Happy weekend!)


 (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.