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Wednesday, May 16, 2012

If you’re crackin’ up from havin’ lack of shackin’ up




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for WenchDay, May 16, 2012.  Happy Hump Day.  It just occurred to Us that, having also declared it WenchDay, We might as well go right on ahead and gladden all of Our str8 boi readers’ hearts by declaring it HumpAWenchDay.  We do so love gladdening Our str8 boi readers’ hearts.  There’s nothing quite so gratifying as a str8 boi with a gladdened heart on.

So didja miss Us?  We cannot even recall the last weekday on which We did not e-pisstlize.  In the wake of Our recent allergic ailment, We were struck yesterday with a bout of such prodigious laziosity as to make worker bees poop Honey Bunches Of Oats™.  (We have no idea what that means, but it sho’ nuff am poetical, ain’t it?  (Plus, “prodigious”…riiight?))  And it may not be over yet…for example, the thought of ascertaining the actual last weekday on which We did not e-pisstlize occurred to Us, but was quickly dismissed as sounding too much like work.  Perhaps one of Our Gentle Readers will ascertain it and kindly inform Us of same.  In between Humping Wenches, naturally.

Meanwhile, Micro$oft Weird™ would like Us to believe that “laziosity” is not a word.  Hah!  Drop by OurHouseWhereWeLive and allow Us to demonstrate.

Before We go on, a random joke:

A man goes to the doctor.

Doctor: I've got bad news; you have three things wrong with you. You've got syphilis, gonorrhea, and onomatopoeia.

Patient: What's onomatopoeia?

Doctor: Exactly what it sounds like. 

In other news, We were awakened yesterday morning by a horrifying nightmare, in which a Starzina fillum had been somehow made without Our creative approval.  It was not, needless to say, made by Our Own Personal crack creative team (heh…she said “crack”), there was an entire family of Random Other People in it, and it violated virtually every premise of the Starzina oeuvre.   When We expressed Our disapproval to (i.e., shrieked at) the philistines responsible, they told Us that it was “good enough” for some other philistine, whereupon We began threatening legal action so loudly that We woke Ourself up.

For any of you Gentle Readers who might be using an abacus to keep numeric track of Our marbles, you might want to note that We actually WERE Starzina in this dream.  If you can find a big enough butterfly net, you might want to have it at the ready.

That said, as we teeter just this side of madness, do please help Us out by going to watch Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: Taurus video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlqQw4TppqY  In fact, go to Our YouTube channel and watch ALL of Our damn videos:  http://www.youtube.com/user/RickinPhilly?feature=mhee Hey, we’re cracking up; it’s the least you can do.

In still other news, We watched Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol this weekend.  Gentle Readers who know Us well will be aware that, as a fan of the original TV series, We have never been enamored of Mister Cruise’s big screen remakes, which seem much more like an American James Bond remake than anything to do with the IMF.   This time, however, they got it pretty much right, and this movie actually feels like a three-part episode of the TV series with serious delusions of grandeur.

Which is not to s ay that We’re not gonna snark on it.  The humor of the shortest leading man since Mickey Rooney climbing the tallest building in the world was not lost on Us.  And there were several protracted sequences during which Our mind wandered to musing as to whether Mister Cruise has a “no tall people” clause in his contract, requiring all of his co-stars to be shorter than his own elf-like self.  Also, has he always had Black Girl Booty?  (Bootie?  Bootee?  Booteé?...no matter how We type that, it looks wrong.  What we’re saying is, his ass should get separate billing.)

It was nice to see Josh Holloway working; We’ve missed him since Lost choked on its own vomit.  But We’ve always imagined him as a tall person (usually with his legs wrapped around Our head, but We digress).  Perhaps Mister Cruise’s “munchkin only” clause didn’t apply to him, as he and Mister Cruise didn’t share any scenes.  Hollyweird is a mysterious place.

Speaking of fillums, here, because its brilliance cannot be overstated, is the slogan for Our latest fillum:  Uranus is Our Rosebud.

And now, the HorrorScope:

You are feeling the thrill of the new today!  (Are you sure that’s not the thrill of the nude?  Or Catherine Deneuve?)

(Why, no.  We have no idea what We’re talking about.   Our marbles, let Us show them to you…wait; where’d they go?)

It may be anything from a new romance (Oooooohhh!)

to a new job, (Urrrgggghhh!)

but something big is going on (Was that a fat joke?)

and you are right in the middle of it. (That WAS a fat joke!)

Keep the flame alive!  (Burn, baby, burn; disco inferno.)

When someone displays inappropriate behavior today, (Who, Us?)

it should not be tolerated by you or anyone else.  (Indeed not.  We are, in fact, the ChairPerson of the Legion of Decency.  Well, perhaps not the ChairPerson.  More like the OttomanPerson.  Or the HassockPerson.  We were only recently promoted form StepstoolPerson.  (What the fuck is the Legion of Decency? (Oh, sweet Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick…We just looked it up.  Is there no limit to the idiocy of the Catholic Church?)))

Be the first one to call foul (FOWL!)

(Who let that chicken in here?)

when an insult is hurled or a shot is aimed below the belt. (Clearly, there should be a dick joke here.  Remember what We said earlier about laziosity?)

Whether you’re defending someone else or defending yourself, go at the perpetrator with equal vigor. (“Vigor” would seem to Us to be the polar opposite of “laziosity”.  “Perpetrator”, on the other hand, is actually a loose synonym for “carpetmuncher”.)

(Didn’t see THAT one coming, didja?)


Right now you have more influence in your group than you might realize, and when you draw attention to a trouble maker, they will get their comeuppance in one way or another.  (Oh, sure.  THEY get comeuppance.  What do WE get?)

 The more random your activities are now, the better.  (Uranus.)

(Heh.  See what we did there?)

Why not head out into the world with no plan other than to be spontaneous  (Yeah.  We’ll be sure to plan Our spontaneity.  AssHat.)

and keep your eyes peeled?  (Are We the only one who, upon hearing the expression “keep your eyes peeled”, cannot help imagining a potato peeler?)

The world is yours to enjoy and explore.  (Thus, as the saying goes, the world is Our oyster.  Ergo, it would seem to be Ours to enjoyster and exployster.)

(Words are funny.)

(So is Uranus.)

 (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.