Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for GoodFriedEgg, April 6, 2012. (It is unclear to Us what would make one fried egg better than another, and if you are so kitchen-incompetent that you can make a BAD fried egg, We certainly don’t want to eat at YOUR house, but whatevs.) Happy GoodFriedEgg. Also, Happy Belated Holy Thursday. We had a friend over last night for what We now realize was a celebration of The Last Supper, although, based on the size of Our ass, The Last Supper for Us should have been quite some time ago. On the other hand, who’s gonna celebrate a holiday called The Last Slim-Fast™?
Also also, Happy Easter in advance. And Happy Passover to Our Jewish friends. Easter and Passover seem to be coinciding this year, which makes Us wonder why they don’t coincide every year. After all, wasn’t Jesus celebrating Passover immediately before his unfortunate brush with the law? Why does The Church feel the need to do all this hocus-pocus with full moons and whatnot, when all they need to do is say, “When’s Passover?...There’s Easter.” Boom…done.
Clearly, We would make a most excellent Pope. (We already have the dresses for it. (Is anyone else picturing the current Pope, in his prettiest party dress, saying, “Boom…done”? Just Us? Alrighty, then.))
So, other than that, Mrs. Kennedy, what did you think of Dallas? We have got absolutively nothing, as you can plainly see. Perhaps if We go now and pick out the Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Leave The Driving To Us…
…nope, that didn’t work.
Maybe you should all go watch Starzina’s Time Of The Month Horoscope: Aries video:
Here it is again, in case you missed it:
Before We start telling you the story of how, after The Last Supper, Our phone died, only to rise from the dead in the middle of the night (no, We’re not making that up…Our smart phone is apparently so smart it’s messianic), perhaps We should begin the HorrorScope (there is, presumably, not much call for the word “messianic”, but Micro$oft Weird™ recognizes it all the same. Good job, Micro$oft Weird™.):
It just occurred to Us that We have jellybeans. Life is good.
Try to put aside your own needs for one day (That should be simplicity itself…everybody else manages to do it constantly.)
— you can do much more good if you externalize all this energy! (Not if We simultaneously internalize all this inertia.)
(Is anyone else now singing “Accen-tu-ate the Positive”? Just Us? Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)
(How is it that We have yet to make that saying catch on?)
(Stop trying to make “fetch” happen.)
(Oh, good…not only are We Arguing with Ourself, We’re losing.)
(Is it wrong that We are imagining the porno version, “Stop trying to make “felch” happen”?)
Consider it an investment or something even bigger, (Was that a fat joke?)
and you should do just fine. (We should do a lot of things. “Just fine” never seems to be one of them. “Larry Fine” is, mercifully, another.)
The items you have on your wish list are closer than ever to being yours today, thanks in part to the magnanimous charm you’re displaying. (Ah, yes, the old “magnanimous charm” trick.)
You’re being generous with some powerful people, and they want to return the favor. (How is it that she manages to make that sound like a threat?)
Graciously accept what they give you, and don’t act as if you think you’re undeserving. (Have you met Us?)
Being unable to accept gifts isn’t a sign of sophistication. (Don’t look a gift whore in the mouth. (You may, however, look her in the bouche. But only if it amuses you.))
(Who the hell let Neil Patrick Harris in here? And why isn’t he naked?)
It’s a sign that you feel guilty about something — and you have nothing to feel guilty about! (Certainly not. It’s not as though We’ve had, say, impure thoughts.)
Today, do something that goes against your nature: Say no. (Oh. My. God. You’re as bad as that bitch of a Nancy Reagan. Just say no, THANK YOU.)
You’re operating on information overload — it’s as if everyone wants a piece of you. (We defy you to show Us ONE PERSON who “wants a piece of” Us. We’ll wait.)
Save your sanity and bow out of unnecessary social obligations. (Our sanity is ancient history, and we’re much too busy imagining that last sentence being uttered by Eileen Heckart in The Bad Seed.)
(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: http://agskylab.blogspot.com/. 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!)
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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.
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