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Monday, March 26, 2012

What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty big man

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Munty, March 26, 2012.  Much like Micro$oft Weird™, We are sure there are many of you cunning linguists who would like to point out to Us that “Munty” is not a word. And to both of you, We say:  “Duh.”  “Munty” does, however, rhyme with something We feel ever so much like being this morning; lettuce see if We can restrain Ourself and maintain civility…

We trust you all enjoyed the Very Special Weekend E-dition of E-rix Daily Horoscope, complete with dirty jokes.  (We have to trust, as, much like Helen Keller falling down in a forest, We heard no sound.  (Whoops…We seem to have spilt some Asti Spu-Munty.  (No use crying, though. (Heh.  See what We did there?))))

In case you are New Here, or only read these e-pisstles to relieve the tedium of your workplace, or had an interesting weekend, We shall pause here to give you a chance to read the aforementioned Special Weekend E-dition of E-rix Daily Horoscope:

(While We’re pausing, it may interest the rest of you to note, as it does Us, that apparently “aforementioned” has no present tense. (We’re feeling existential…are We here?))

Okey-dokey-artichokey…now that, much like Our Congressional representatives, We’re all on the same page (wait for it….THERE ya go!), moving on…

Thorough Gentle Readers (as opposed to you naked skimmers…who could at least have the decency to sext Us a picture of yourselves from time to time…We’re just sayin’) will be familiar with Our promotion of the following:

Those of you who were fans of Michael Doherty, who played Justin Bieber  in Our Pisces video,  might want to check out this video for his latest project, a Fringe show coming in September entitled Jeff Coon and Ben Dibble Must Die:

The burr under Our saddle this morning…well, ONE of the burrs under Our saddle this morning…let’s call this one “Raymond Burr”…everybody LOVES him…ooops, did We digress?  Well, of course We did…ya think it’s easy to write this stuff, let alone on horseback? What were We talking about?  Oh, yes:

The Raymond Burr under Our saddle this morning (and, now that We think of it, that would be a mighty big Burr…especially in his later years (now We’re imagining a sort of Princess-and-the-Pea situation…although you’d hardly have to be a delicate flower to notice Raymond Burr under your saddle (and please note that We did NOT say “Princess-and-the-Pee”, which is a whole ‘nother story about bedwetting (or “Princess-and-the-Penis”, which is the porno version of same…DAMMIT!

The burr under Our saddle this morning (why we didn’t say “thorn in Our side”, We’ll never know) is that, as of this writing, these gentlemen’s KickStarter project has the exact same number of people PLEDGING MONEY to it as have even bothered to click on Our latest video:

Really, people?

Now, mind you, this is not to in any way denigrate the fine folks at Jeff Coon and Ben Dibble Must Die.  We heartily endorse their project and will continue to promote it, and We look forward to it like Paula Deen looks forward to an all-you-can-eat fried buffet.  And We realize that there are more of them than there are of Us, and that they are younger, more attractive, and one of them has Justin Bieber’s penis.  But still…

Really, people?

(Please do not allow yourselves to become distracted, as We just did, by the fact that the phrase “one of them has Justin Bieber’s penis” makes it sound as though he carries the thing about on his keychain, much like a lucky rabbit’s foot.  Because that?  Would be disgusting.)

Paging Munty Hall…Munty Hall, to the white courtesy phone please…

Okay, totally changing the subject…

This morning on the WorldWideInterWebNetz, We learned that chickens? Will eat chicken.  Presumably because?  It tastes like chicken.

Also, apropos of nothing, We were walking down the street on Saturday when We heard, behind Us, a voice that sounded exactly like Chris Colfer from Glee. (Chris Colfer, for you non-Gleeks, plays Kurt, the somewhat effeminate gay kid.  He has an extremely distinctive, high-pitched, somewhat sibilant voice.)  The voice was talking on a cell phone, extremely loudly:  “Oh, sure, he can throw far, just not at anyone in particular.  Tim Tebow throws like a girl!” (It was much funnier in Chris Colfer’s voice.)

When We finally got to see the owner of the voice, it was a Chinaman. In short shorts.  With shaved legs.  (If you dare wear short shorts, Nair™ for short shorts.)

Not even Charlene Tilton can save Us now.

Too much clutter could be wreaking havoc with your nerves, so make a real effort to deal with your stuff. (Oh, hell, just throw it under Our saddle…We’ll never notice.)

It may be a good time for you to step up and have a yard sale. (Well, except that first, We’d have to buy a yard.)

It’s cleansing!  (So is an enema, but with friends like that, who needs one?)

(We have never understood that saying.  (“With friends like that, who needs enemas”, for you ADD types.)  What exactly are you DOING with these friends of yours?)

There will be a pause in the action today

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

— you have a lot of momentum going on in various projects right now, but it’s time for patience, not for progress.  (Also, apparently, alliteration.  Asshole.)

Slowing down will give you a chance to kick off your shoes, sit down and get comfortable.  (Not if Raymond Burr has anything to say about it.)

Work on learning how to accept the fact that you can’t always have things happen as quickly as you think you want them to. (Well, okay, as long as We can learn that really quickly.)

The universe has a different speed in mind for you, (Puree?  Frappe?)

and it’s liberating to just go with it.  (Wouldn’t it be more liberating to go without it?  Just sayin’.)

 Don’t get too full of yourself  (Or your friends will have to give you an enema.)

(Micro$oft Weird™ keeps wanting Us to change “enema” to “enemy”.  Why would Our friends give Us an enemy?)

as your confidence soars at work. (Jigga what?)

Embrace your good fortune (, Cookie.)

and spread that energy around to others. (Ene-mee, ene-mah, ene-mee, ene-mah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha …)

(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.