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Thursday, April 5, 2012

It’s my potty



Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Thursday (WHAT?!?), April 5st, 2012. Happy birthday to OurMizDonna, who turns twenty-four today.  Also happy birthday to Bill, who also turns twenty-four today.  Also also, happy birthday to Adam, who also also turns twenty-four today.  Also also also, happy birthday to Marcia, who also also also turns twenty-four today. And also also too, happy birthday to Randy, who also also turns twenty-four today too.

Whew!  We’re exhausted already, and We’ve only just begun!  Presumably, all these Arieses have circled the wagons since they heard Us complaining that no one was having any birthdays.  Maybe now somebody will go watch
Starzina’s Time Of The Month Horoscope: Aries video:


Here it is again, in case you missed it:


So We were having one of those charming sleepless nights last night, as One does, contemplating the important questions of Life On This Planet.  Because, if One is going to be lying awake at four o’clock in the morning, One should be thinking about Deep Questions Of Great Import.  Like: do you think Leonardo DiCaprio can cook?  We pondered this question for quite some time (there was precious little else to do), and We decided probably not.  He was already a working actor as a child, so he probably never had to, or had time to learn.  Tom Cruise, on the other hand, probably can cook, at least a little, as he didn’t really start working till he was grown up. And We’re fairly sure that Neil Patrick Harris knows his way around a kitchen (as well as a number of other rooms in the house), but We are also here to tell you that We follow him on Twitter, and GURRRRLLLL, that man knows how to go out to dinner!  Seven and twelve course meals, some of the courses of which have two and three parts!  It’s a miracle he doesn’t look like ThatFatChickWithNoOscar™ from Bridesmaids.

Although Mister Patrick Harris (would he be famous if his name were (subjunctively) just Neil Harris?  We’re guessing “no”) also introduced Us to the latest Gay Litmus Test:  you are clearly gayer than Charles Nelson Reilly (again, famous if he were just Charles Reilly? Not so much) fucking Paul Lynde up the ass while wearing Liberace’s prom dress as Judy Garland sings opera in a flower shop if you can correctly use in a sentence in all seriousness the phrase “amuse bouche”.

Sleep deprived?  Who, Us?

As it is nearly Friday already, We had better begin the HorrorScope:

Your instinct to let others know what they’ve done wrong is better left alone today (Who, Us?  With Our bouche in which beurre would not, how you say, melt?)

— almost nobody is ready to hear about their failings yet. (We are thinking that this failing to be able to hear about their failings is a failing in and of itself.  We should probably tell them about that…oh, wait…)

Wait until they can see the results for themselves!  (Yes, because We are SO good at that “waiting” thing.  See also: Aries, patience, lack thereof.)

Moving forward in your life is rewarding and exciting, but you do get a little bit older every day.  (How cheerful.)

And aging is inevitable. (Enough, already.  Jeebus.)

Your body may suddenly be revealing itself to be less than the perfect machine. (It’s Our body, and We’ll cry if We want to, cry if We want to, cry if We want to…you would cry , too, if it happened to you-oo-oo.)

First of all, don’t panic! (Don’t tell Us what to do!)

If you’re feeling some new aches or pains, do not ignore them. (Sorry…what?)

Taking care of health concerns should be your top priority, (Don’t even get Us started.)

whether that means making a doctor’s appointment or ordering fruit salad instead of onion rings with your lunch.  (What the hell are We having for lunch that “fruit salad or onion rings” is even an option?)

An accidental meeting of an old flame could stir up past emotions. (Especially if it’s meeting with your gas tank.)

Before you decide whether or not to give a previous romance a second chance, think twice about why it went kaput in the first place. (Alternatively, think twice about what an odd word “kaput” is.  And whether or not it can cook. That should amuse your bouche for hours, and trust Us, you won’t sleep for DAYS.)



(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.