Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for JustAnotherManHoleMonday, August 27, 2012. Naturally, the question on everyone’s mind is, when Tuesday Weld’s birthday falls on a Monday, does the poor dear get confused?
Speaking of confused, We found Our geriatric self in a dream last night in an e-pissode of Glee. Mister Shue (for those who follow along) wanted to have a heart-to-heart with Dawson (yes, of Dawson’s Creek fame (which, apropos of nothing, inspired the gay porn fillum, Dawson’s Crack)). So there We were, attempting to engineer a conversation between a reluctant James van der Beek and his fivehead, and a teacher who is, no doubt, younger than he is. (We just verified Our facts. Because that’s how We do. JvdB is, in fact a year older.) Naturally, We went into the men’s room. Dawson went into a stall, We went into the stall on the right, and Mister Shue went into the stall on the left. We have no idea how this was meant to facilitate conversation, but in a moment, Dawson came through the door between Our two stalls (!) and left though the entry door. Mister Shue was deeply disappointed.
The key thing to note about this dream, for long–term non-naked-skimmer readers who pay attention, is that there were not even toilets in these stalls, and the usual filth, poop, and general disgustingness of Our usual recurring ret room drams was conspicuously absent.
Thank you, James van der Beek.
And now, as We have other fish to fry (more on that story later), here is an encore presentation of an e-pissode of Erix Daily Horoscope from last year at this time, when We were apparently also awaiting the arrival of a hurricane:
The rain may never fall till after sundown
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Flighty, August 26, 2011. (Not very inspired, We are well aware. And yet, if you squint at it just right, a sort of minimalist Chinaman joke. Because not everything can be a pie fight.)
We are going to make a sincere effort to avoid The H Word in today’s horoscope, as We are quite sure that you, as We, are completely H-Worded out, and the H hasn’t even arrived yet. We have already received word that the supermarkets are overrun with people purchasing milk, eggs, white bread, and toilet paper. Apparently, Hs are much like blizzards, in that they cause you to crave French toast and then shit a lot. We Our Own Self Personally will be out shopping today (in the glorious sunshine, We might add) for a pair of white gloves and a tasteful pair of light-colored pumps. We don’t expect to be battling crowds. Inclement weather doesn’t seem to make people feel like dressing up for High Tea.
Speaking of costumes, you wish YOUR life were (subjunctively) so interesting as to cause YOU to send out emails saying, “That dress needs to be hemmed up at least six inches to be slutty enough.”
In still other news, do you have your tickets to The Wedding Consultant yet? Miss Iris and her friends will be frutting and stretting just one week from today: http://ticketing.theatrealliance.org/sites/livearts/details.aspx?id=19622
Meanwhile, as the calm before the H continues apace, doesn’t this angel have skin like, well, an angel?
In other news, from several paragraphs back, We are thinking that ShitALot should be a character in something. Or possibly Sir ShitALot. One can almost hear Richard Burton declaiming, “ShitALot…ShitALot…I know it sounds a bit bizarre…but in ShitALot….ShitALot…that’s just the way shit are…”
And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in Who’s Afraid Of Judith Krantz? Or, the HorrorScope:
You need to deal with something rather big today — and rather urgent! (Ordinarily, this would be a place for a penis joke. However, you just KNOW Bee-Yotch is talkin’ ‘bout da weather.)
The good news is that (Once the power goes out, We won’t be able to hear any bad news?)
you’ve got more than enough energy to handle it all and then start an impromptu party to celebrate. (That’s gonna be one lonely party.)
Being diplomatic is nice … (and being nice is diplomatic. Also, this sentence is stupid, you ignorant asshatted twat.)
but being in control is more effective. (And what exactly is to prevent One from being all four of those things?)
Don’t let your urge to be liked dominate your actions today. (As We shall most likely be alone for the next three days, We are thinking that being liked will be relatively low on Our priority list.)
Being a team player doesn’t mean you need to sacrifice your intelligence and critical thinking. (Because, after all, there is no ”I” in “team”. There is also no “I” in “asshole”; that’s all “U”.)
Your self-esteem will be well served if you speak your mind, so start talking. (If We talk to Ourself, do We have to listen?)
There might be an intimidation factor if you’re surrounded by powerful people, but don’t let that get to you. (But if it doesn’t get to Us, then it’s not really an intimidation factor, now, izzit?)
Smart people admire other smart people who aren’t afraid to share controversial ideas. (Sometimes, on the other hand, they admire stupid people who put out.)
You’re on the move. (Also in the groove. And Catherine Deneuve.)
You’re making progress. (Also, We’re making hay while the sun shines. Now could somebody remind Us what the fuck We wanted all this hay for?)
Don’t be surprised (SURPRISE!!!)
if your family and friends question your decisions. (Let them first walk a mile in Our tasteful light-colored pumps. Then, if they question Us, they’ll be a mile away, and We won’t hear them.)
If they really pry, remember — it’s really none of their business. (And yet, telling people that never seems to stop them.)
Your intuition will give you the truth. (We can’t handle the truth.)
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.