Hello, Ducks!
Starzina
Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for JustAnotherManScapedMonday,
June 25, 2012.
Having
refrained from e-pisstling all weekend long, (A.) We have SOOOO much to Cher with
you and (2.) We are about to burst. But
first, this Public Service Announcement:
This
past Saturday, We betook Ourselves on a little shopping excursion. Many of Our summer frocks seem to have
simultaneously fallen into rack and ruin and gone hopelessly out of style,
dating, as they do, from 1987. (We’re
pretty sure at least one of the frocks had shoulder pads.) So, as We haven’t two nickels to rub together
(and as what sort of amusement rubbing two nickels together would create
escapes Us anyway), We decide to waddle Our double-wide hindparts on down to
the Souf Philly Forman Mills (all together now:
FOR!!!
MAN!!! MILLS!!! ), where We could be assured of
obtaining three frocks for a dollar.
(Because We HAVE a dollar, just not two nickels.)
(We
just paused for a mo-mo in mid-public-service to perform a SECOND public
service (because We give, and GIVE, and GIVE)
by Googling “Forman Mills” (FOR!!! MAN!!! MILLS!!! ) on Wikipedia to ascertain whether it was
just a local business that no one outside Our area would have heard of. Turns out that, while not nationwide, it has enough
locations spread across the northeastern US that more of you will likely have
heard of it than not. The rest of you
can just pixture the Salvation Army with new stuff instead of used.)
So,
geographically speaking, We are talking about waddling all the way down under
I-95, near the Souf Philly Ikea and Chuck E. Cheese, 15 or 20 blocks from
OurHouseWhereWeLive, only to discover the Forman Mills (FOR!!! MAN!!! MILLS!!! (okay, that was really only
funny the first time. If then.)) with its doors padlocked and signs saying “lost
our lease”.
Why
did none of YouPeople tell Us this?
But
We’re not going to dwell. Obviously, it
is every Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) for HerSelf these days, and who are
We to argue? So Our phone doesn’t ring…so
what? We are IN LOVE. And this is not a false alarm, like Allison from
the other week (you do recall Allison, with her “first size of boobs”? Not that We ever heard from her again…). No, this week’s missive comes from Vanessa:
Subject: I think I am in
the same town
Hey,
Remember me?
Well hopefully my profile
will jog your memory. Come hit me up at:
gettheperfectdate...HottieVanessa&for=epsingel
Want to get out this
weekend? Maybe get a drink.. maybe more?
Let me know.
Love,
Vanessa.
How
can One not love a woman who doesn’t even know what town she’s in? We love you, too, Vanessa!
Apropos
of nothing, str8 bois in Capri pants?
What’s up with that?
We
have a movie review, but that’s going to have to wait until tomorrow, as time
keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future. (What the hell just happened?) Here are a few random bits of wisdom from the
WorldWideInterWebNetz that We encountered this weekend and saved up to Cher
with you:
Liketurbate
(v.): to like one’s own status on SitOnMyFaceBook
I’m not badass enough to join Dykes on Bikes so I’m
going to join Cooters on Scooters.
People who use
the word "cyberspace" are literally always pedophiles.
If “women
aren’t funny,” then why do the words “daughter” & “laughter” rhyme?
A synonym
ambles into a pub...
The other night on Letterman, Justin Bieber called it the "Sixteenth Chapel." He also
thinks "The Last Supper" was painted by Leonardo DiCaprio.
Is it
considered drinking alone if you’re on Facebook?
In
still other news, The Match Game : playing it We shall be on Friday, July 13 and Saturday,
July 14, at 7:30, at L’Etage. The
SitOnMyFaceBook event is here: http://www.facebook.com/events/234467316672300/
and tickets can be gotten here: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/255809
. Be there, or be BLANK.)
Here’s
the HorrorScope:
You’ve got to take
your time today (We have never understood that saying…who else’s would We
take?)
—
there’s no point in rushing! (Indeed.
The only fraternity We want to
join is the one in that porno movie.)
Your
energy is just right for taking on small, low-key projects and making slow
progress on them, (Are you mocking Us?)
not
for rushing to a thrilling climax! (At
this point, if We had a “thrilling climax”, We would probably need medical
attention.)
You
might feel a bit under siege today (Trolls live under bridges…what lives under
siege?)
—
many people may be demanding your time and energy, (So wait…other people can
take OUR time, but We can’t take theirs?
The hell?)
when
you want to focus on your home and your family. (Yeah, okay, whatevs.)
Trying
to negotiate with these people will likely be disappointing; they are so
focused on themselves today that they will have a hard time taking your
personal needs seriously. (And you
imagine that this will in some way come as a surprise to Us? Walk a mile in OUR Jimmy Choos,
bee-yotch. (Just don’t walk to Forman
Mills (FOR!!! MAN!!! MILLS!!! (SHADDUP!)), because it’s
closed.))
Feel
free to disengage and do what you need and want to do. (We’d LIKE to make a
plan re: Our upcoming good-news-for-a-change. )
Don’t
burn any bridges (Especially if there are trolls under them. ‘Cause burning trolls? STIIIIIINNNKKKKK!!!!!)
—
but do take note of the people who react especially poorly. (We are making a list. It is unclear to Us why the list is so long,
but what can ya do?)
What’s
up with you? (We’d tell you, but then We’d have to kill you. And We really can’t spare anybody who
actually still asks what’s up with Us.)
Your personal life (Jigga WUT?)
is
definitely cutting into work, (We can only say “jigga WUT” so many times before
We become ridiculous.)
and
that’s not a good thing. (Jigga WUT, chicken butt.)
(There. Not ridiculous AT ALL.)
The
economy’s anything but great right now, (See also: nickels, two, rubbing
together.)
so
make sure you’re doing all you can to shine at the office. (Now We have to
SHINE the fucking nickels? Why’n’tcha
stick a broom up Our ass so We can sweep the floor while We’re at it?)
When
the chopping block comes out, you don’t want your head to roll. (On the other
hand, since it already shakes and rattles…)
(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!)
*****************************************************************************
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.
FOR MAN MILLS!!!!!!!!!!!!! is closed???!!!! How on earth did that happen???? Oh, and now I have that stuck in my head - thanks tons :)
ReplyDeleteApparently, just the one near me. That I can (well, COULD) walk to. Lost their lease. Which, on the glass-half-full side, might mean some new and much more interesting enterprise taking over said lease.
ReplyDeleteFOR!!!MAN!!!MILLS!!!!!!!!!!
I don't know, it's not every store that could have an ad campaign of FOR MAN MILLSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for 40 years. Craziness - I wonder what they'll end up putting there. Where are you going to go next to replace your frocks?
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteFortunately, Jomar was right next door. It's no FOR!!!MAN!!!MILLS!!!, but I still got a frock or two. (Which rhymes, I just noticed, with "cockatoo". Which solves absolutely nothing.)
ReplyDeleteBut still though, cockatoo. Theres gotta be what, 4 or 5 puns in there?
ReplyDeleteNever underestimate how many puns can be found in a cock or two.
ReplyDelete