Google+ Followers

Saturday, June 9, 2012

You say it’s your birthday…

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for SayerDee, June 9, 2012.  Despite the clear weekendishness of the day du jour, We were for some reason drawn to Bloggonia to e-pisstlize…drawn, We say, like a moth to an old flame wearing a wool sweater.  (For any newbs who chance to be in the house, that would be a sophomoric metaphor wearing a metaphoric pinafore while doing a semaphoric homage to Millard Fillmore.  Metaphorically speaking, of course.) Was it to wish a happy birthday to Sharon, aka Brett Somers of The Match Game, aka Mrs. Jack Klugman (who is, parenthetically, still alive, We have just learned (Jack, that is, not Brett)), who turns twenty-four today?  Or was it to wish a happy birthday to Doug, who is also, presumably, still alive, and who, in one of those odd coincidences that make the Erix Daily Horoscope world turn, also turns twenty-four today?  Or was it perchance to wish a happy birthday in advance to Kevin, who may or may not still be alive, at least as far as We have any way of knowing, who turns twenty-four tomorrow?


It is Johnny. Depp’s. Birthday. People…would We leave you e-pisstless on such a monumentally momentous occasion?  No, We would not.  Who else would whisperingly lisp “e-pisstless” at you and get spittle in your ear?

(Clearly, “getspittle” is meant to be all one word.  It is a nouny neologism that We have just now invented, and We shall no doubt shortly be inspired to define exactly what a getspittle is.  All We know now is that it is obviously something that gets stuck in your rear.)

But enough of this etymological morass.  (Heh…she said “more ass”.)  It’s Johnny Depp’s birthday…We’ve got a cake to frost.  Sure, they may look like frosting flowers, but they are actually genitalia of the feminine persuasion. Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Majorette’s Labia Menorah.

We have no idea where that came from.  Clearly, Johnny Depp’s birthday has Us all a-twatter.

Having just re-read what We’ve written so far, it occurs to Us that “getspittle” may actually be Pennsylvania Dutch.  Whether that’s true or not, We’ll never know, as We have no access to the Amish InterNetz. Sigh. #Ass(tromalogical)Ho(roscopulist)PeopleProblems.

Yes, people, that was both a hashtag AND a meme.  Try to keep up.

We alluded, earlier (oh, yes, We did…because We?  Are an alluder.  Occasionally, We are a lewd alluder.  A loud lewd alluder who alludes aloud.), to The Match Game, and We would like to thank everyone who came out to support Us while We were having more fun in public than should be legal.  And We would like this to be the first notice you have that The Match Game  will be back (yes, by the infamous popular demand (and We’re not even making that up)) on July 13th and 14th. More on that story as it develops.

We also alluded to a certain piece of Young Adult Fiction entitled Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Majorette’s Labia Menorah, and We hear that has crashed from you all attempting to order a copy thereof.  Perverts.

That’s really all We’ve got, and We have all sorts of other things to do, so don’t get your getspittles in a twist; here’s the HorrorScope:

You love to improvise, but on a day like today, why not try planning ahead?  (How ‘bout We try planning for head?  (We just realized that, for those of you who are reading Erix Daily Horoscope to the blind, that may have sounded like “planning forehead”.  Which makes no sense.  The blind will just have to forgive Us, though, because, hey…someone’s reading to you, yes?  Count your damn blessings.))

 You’ve got the right kind of mental energy to dream up something great, (Indeed.  Why, just this morning, We invented the getspittle.)

so run with it and gather your forces.  (Oh, see, now.  We’ve mistakenly gathered Our farces.  (Did you just hear a door slam?))

You have many different visions of what you want the next year of your life to be, and you won’t get anywhere with any of them unless you pick one idea and stick with it!  (Well, for starters, how ‘bout We leave that labia menorah idea out of the running.  Also, We are now fairly sure that the getspittle is a musical instrument, but We’re not sure how that helps Us.)

Being indecisive is understandable, for a while. (Well, sometimes it is.  Sort of.)

(This shit just writes itself.)

But you can’t carry on too long (Apparently, you have not met Us.)

without knowing where to go next — you need to do whatever it takes to make your choice, today. (Choosy motherfuckers choose .gif.)

(What does that even MEAN?)

Getting more information will only confuse and overwhelm you, so focus on what matters. (Yes, let’s not cloud the issue with facts.)

Then decide. (Don’t tell Us what to do!)

Flip a coin if you have to, just get going!  (Wait…We have a coin?  Things ARE looking up!)

Somehow you feel as if you’re missing out on something. (Well, this cake ain’t gonna frost itself.)

Stirring the drama pot won’t make it any better. (“The drama pot”?  Seriously?)

Don’t cause problems just for your entertainment. (You’re no fun.)

Better to tie up loose ends and pay attention to your own issues for the time being.  (Seventy-six trombones led the big parade, with a hundred and ten getspittles right behind.  Staring off with a big gang-bang with a Chinese wang and a big gang-banger in the rear…)

(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:  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.