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Wednesday, April 11, 2012

This is it! This is life, it’s the one you get, so go and have a ball!



Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for When’sDinner?, April 11st, 2012.  Happy Hump Day to you, and to all a good hump.

Our left buttock itcheth, and We know not why.

That is actually the beginning to one of Shakespeare’s lost sonnets.  Not to be confused with Shakespeare’s Lost sonnets, which were all about the circumference of Hurley, and Kate’s vagina.

Speaking of outdated pop culture references, a friend in Greater Bostonia (hi, Patrick!) has been cast in The Diary of Anne Frank, and mentioned that he is off to a blocking rehearsal this evening, where he will not be heavily featured, and thus will be taking his Kindle along.  Which, naturally, fired up Our fertile little brain to invent an updated version of this old chestnut.  It’s called The FaceBook of Anne Frank, and it’ll be coming soon to a Ten-Minute Play festival near you.

Those with really short attention spans might want to consider Our alternate updated version, The Twitter of Anne Frank.

But back to the matter at hand:  Our itchy left buttock, and your outpouring of sympathy for same.

We’ll wait.

(We share these little inside glimpses into the inner workings of Erix Daily Horoscope not only so you, Our current Gentle Readers, can feel closer to Us, but also so future generations of Gentle Readers, some of whom, no doubt, will be analyzing these pages in quest of doctoral theses, can gain some insight into Our creative processes.)

Who just said “doctoral feces”?

Changing the subject, you will have all heard by now that anal-sex-fixated closet-case Rick Frothy-Mix-Of-Lube-And-Feces-That-Is-Sometimes-A-Byproduct-Of-Anal-Sex Santorum has dropped out of the presidential race.  Apparently, the conversation his wife had with God, in which God informed her that He wanted her husband to be President, was a wrong number.  Isn’t that just like a stupid woman?  This is exactly why they should all be kept barefoot and pregnant, with an old Republican man to look after their vaginas.

Actually, We are sorry to see the Rickster go so soon. We were hoping he’d stay in the race long enough to get his ass handed to him here in his home state, where We worked so hard to throw him the hell out of office lo those many years ago.

Here is Joan Rivers on the subject (hopefully, We will have no use for any of these jokes again anytime soon):


 And here’s Ol’ Sticky Ricky himself, on The Dr. Phil Show:


Our left buttock, it itcheth still.  If We were (subjunctively) Daniel Day-Lewis, We’d paint something with it.

Here is the obligatory mention of Our latest  Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope video, which you will neither watch yourselves, nor share on your friends SitOnMyFaceBook pages: http://youtu.be/jy65nirv_BM 

Aaaaaannnndddd here’s a HorrorScope:

Try something a little different today. (If it’s only a little different, isn’t it mostly the same?  We’re so confused…)

(Meanwhile, We did in fact go to the Italian market yesterday, wehre We obtained, amongst other things, five peppers for a dollar.  And We did then come home and make sausage and peppers.  It occurs to Us that We have, over the course of the past two weeks, had dinner with five different people. Mostly because We enjoy focusing Our (limited) attention (span) on one person at a time.  We are now, however, imagining a weekly salon sort of setting, where We have dinner with two or three people at a time.  Sort of like My Dinner With Andre, but without, ya know, ugly people. My Dinner With Starzina, coming soon to a theater near you.)

It may be a visit to a gallery, a serenade by musicians you’ve never heard before or a stroll down unfamiliar streets, but you need to broaden your cultural horizons.  (Honey, if Our “horizons” get any broader, We won’t fit out the front door.)

If you agree to do something today, (And since when did We get so agreeable?)

you have be sure you want to stick with it. (Stick with it like santorum on Uranus.)

It’s not wise to commit yourself to something while simultaneously creating an escape plan. (Unless that something is a mental institution.  Which, from where We’re sitting, becomes more likely by the day.)

If you don’t want to be involved, don’t get involved. (Wow.  That’s heavy.  Real heavy.  We’ll have a hit off what she’s smoking.)

Calling in sick at the last minute is not the right way to remove yourself from a situation, unless you are truly sick, of course. (In other non sequiturs, Valerie Bertinelli.)

(You totally didn’t see that coming, didja?)

This type of flakiness might seem a harmless white lie, but it’s still a lie. (Not that there’s anything wrong with a lie.  Especially if We ask you if these jeans make Our ass look fat.)

Be up front about things and you will avoid getting a bad reputation.  (Unlike Rick Santorum, who, now that he’s out of the presidential race, is on some street corner doing squat-thrusts on a fire hydrant.)

(We’ll pause here, while you go back and re-read that in Joan Rivers’ voice.)


Someone new might catch your eye today. (Insert one-eyed hooker joke here.)

Dress for romantic success, (Jigga what?)

and let your smile be the only calling card you need.  (Also, let it double as your umbrella.)

The more approachable you are, (And does it GET any more approachable than Us?)

the easier it will be for a potential lover to say hello. (And there’s always room for Hell-O.)

  And have We mentioned Our latest video?  http://youtu.be/jy65nirv_BM 

 (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.