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Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Would you let me dress you?

Would it kill you to go watch this?:

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for TwosTea(AndThreesCompany), March 27th, 2012.  Why We even bother to speak, We’ll never know.

So yesterday, after Our e-pisstle was published, We decided to pay bills here at Casa de Crapfest.  Except We couldn’t seem to find the gas bill.  And with the quantities of gas We have around here, that most certainly needed to be paid.  We looked high, We looked low.  We were sure We had seen it.  We found last month’s bill, which had, of course, already been paid.  Still no gas bill.   We were on the verge of going to the actual gas company (which, it turns out, is right nearby) to pay the damn thing in person, when the gas bill?  Arrived in the mail.


Speaking of gas, Our heat has come on for the first time in several weeks.  Fortunately, the oven will be on later, as We are having a friend for dinner.  (Does the phrase “having a friend for dinner” make anyone else think of Hannibal Lecter?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then. (We should probably shut up…he reads this, and might not come.  Lettuce just clean these fava beans, and open this Chianti so it can breathe…))

(Could it be any clearer that We’ve got nothin’?)

Last night, We had a dream in which We were reading a book.  Which, as We were reading it, turned into a movie.  Which was good, because a movie makes for a much better dream.  Unfortunately, that’s all We remember.


Here’s some stuff to click on.  We’re not writing any text about it, because you won’t read it anyway.

Charlene Tilton:  (.)(.)

That was a little tit joke for Our str8 boi readers.  They most likely skimmed right past it.  Nakedly.  Sigh.

This is a good time to slow down (Finally, something at which We excel.)

and take stock (We have already planned the menu.  We require no stock.)

before making any new advances. (Are We going to be a cheeky monkey then? (There’s a fat joke in there somewhere, but it may have smothered between the cheeks.))

Even those at the very top need to take time to absorb their situation and ensure that they can move forward.  (Before pooping on those below them.)

 The heat is on today!  (We said that already.  Pay attention!)

There is a problem brewing, (So distill instead.  Must We think of EVERYTHING?)

and your name will be on the top of the list of people who can provide the solution.  (We’re pretty sure We don’t want Our name on any lists.  In other news, Our WorldWideInterWebNetz just informed Us that Justin Bieber has dropped a new single entitled “Boyfriend”.  So, naturally, having seen Miss Bieber’s penis, We felt compelled to check out thirty seconds of it.  In that thirty seconds, he misuses the subjunctive (“if I was your boyfriend”) and talks about eating fondue.  Way to masculinize that image, Biebs.  The whole mess paled by comparison to the purposefully-androgynous Prince’s song of twenty-odd years ago, “If I Was (sic) Your Girlfriend”.)

Luckily, when you reach inside your brain for a suggestion, (Literally?)

the perfect answer will be right there waiting for you!  (How lucky can We get!  The perfect answer, AND brain damage, all in one day!)

Have faith in yourself, (If We don’t believe in Ourself, will We disappear?)

because you won’t let anybody down. (Oh, please.  We might do any damn thing.)

Problems are just opportunities in unattractive packages.  (And “the fuck up” is the way in which We wish you would shut.)

And whether you realize it or not, you have been preparing for this opportunity for a long while. (Is it wrong to want the opportunity with the biggest knockers?)

You are ready to shine.  (Mmm-hmm.  As soon as We’re through here, We’re gonna take a bath with the toaster.)

A daytime date looks especially great — brunch, a bike ride, a swim, a walk through a cool, quiet museum together.  (Please…at Our advanced age, We only agree to be seen in public after the sun has gone down.)

If a romantic prospect isn’t available, (And trust Us, it isn’t.)

 take a friend and introduce yourself to people along the way!  (Hello!  Our name is Starzina, and We’re here about the blowjob!)

 (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.