Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for JustAnotherManWhoreMonday, August 6thst, 2012. Go ahead, just TRY to pronounce “6thst”. Now wipe the spit off your screen. (Spitoff was, of course, a character excised from an early version of Chekhov’s Three Sisters. Colonel Spitoff, or “Spitty”, as he was affectionately known, would have been the fourth sister after his gender reassignment surgery, but Chekhov decided that was just a little too ahead-of-its-time, thereby depriving Us of an hilarious scene in verse, which ended, “The question before us/Is where’s her clitoris”.)
But We digress.
We are behind-times with this morning’s (soon to be this afternoon’s) e-pisstle as We have already been out and about in the real world, running errands. The weather is much less oppressive at ten o’clock in the morning, although there are an inordinate number of Chinamen out and about. Now, One might imagine that this is so because Chinamen are notoriously industrious, but we are here to dispel that myth. (Later, We shall drink Swiss Miss™ while dispelling the 6thst myth…stay tuned!) At ten o’clock in the morning, any truly industrious Chinamen would be indoors somewhere, up to their yellow elbows in someone else’s laundry. No, the true explanation for the ten o’clock plethora-of-Chinamen phenomenon (did she say “plethora”?) is that Chinamen don’t eat breakfast. Because, of course, thousand-year-old eggs don’t come along every day.
Tonight on CBS: The Amazing Racist!
In other news, We are told that somebody or another went to Mars, and We didn’t even get a lousy T-shirt. Although how We’re expected to keep up on current events when there are all these cute pictures of Prince Harry at the Olympics is a mystery to Us…
And now a word from Our sponsor (We wish). Here is the very best Sears advertisement since that guy inadvertently showed his penis in the underwear section of the catalog (unlike that guy’s penis, the following ad IS safe for work):
Note: while We ARE old enough to remember the existence of a Sears catalog, We have no recollection of the penis in question. Nor did We at any point in OUR existence take a Sears catalog to an outhouse so it could encounter Uranus.
You would think We would have more to report after an entire weekend of radio silence. You would be wrong. Although We do have several surprises on the way. But if We told you about them, they wouldn’t be surprises. Also, we would have to kill you. And in this heat, you would start to smell really fast.
Here’s the HorrorScope:
Okay, Sears-catalog-in-the-outhouse jokes aside, now We are going to make even Our very youngest Gentle Readers feel old: Today? Would have been Jon Benet Ramsey’s TWENTY-SECOND birthday.
Your fierce, fiery energy is making life fantastic for you (We know F-words, too, Bee-Yotch. And We know how to use ‘em.)
and your people (Oh, fercrissakes. Again with “Our people”. If We have all these “people”, why did We have to go to the post office Our Own Self this morning? (Where, We might add, a sign ever-so-helpfully wanted Us to know that “Mother’s Day is May 13th”. Well, We’d best start paging through Our Sears catalog for a present then, hadn’t We?))
— so make the most of it! (This would be a good place for a Donny Most joke. If there were (subjunctively), ya know, such a thing.)
You can get started on something new that is practically guaranteed to succeed. (Why does “guaranteed to succeed” sound exactly like “email from a Nigerian prince” to Us?)
The time for exploring new locations has come and gone — but it will come around again soon enough. (Funny thing about that sentence is, it LOOKS exactly like English.)
You have to put a cap on your wanderlust (This being, naturally, a more tasteful way of saying “no glove, no love”.)
and stick close to home for now. (Home is where the outhouse is.)
(No, We have no idea.)
Instead of being intrigued by new faces and new places, you have to learn to appreciate the known and familiar. (Inferior races in your personal spaces?)
Today offers you a wonderful opportunity to communicate your ideas with the people who really understand you. (Unfortunately, these people, much like “Our people”, are imaginary.)
They can give you proper constructive criticism (They must be very skilled, then, as We are clearly perfect, and, therefore, beyond criticism. We are always appreciative, however, of constructive witticism.)
and help you build something that is meant to last. (What are We, a lesbian?)
The stars give you a fabulous opportunity today. (We’ll take Paul Lynde for the block. Or around the block. One of those.)
You know that thing you’ve been thinking about starting for months? (Yes, but We were hoping YOU didn’t.)
You shouldn’t have any problem (But that’s never stopped Us before.)
— your clever ways make it easy. (And We are nothing if not easy.)
(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.