Google+ Followers

Monday, September 17, 2012

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for  JustAnotherMatchboxTwentyMonday, September 17, 2012.  Whatever happened to Matchbox Twenty?  They were Number One With A Bullet for like a nanosecond in the Aughts, and now what?  Fame is fleeting.  (Our particular fame is fleeting like a Fleets™ enema.  Through a goose.  Because goose poop is, apparently, supersonic.)

“Supersonic Goose Poop” is an excellent album title, no?  Somebody get Matchbox Twenty on the phone.

Happy New Year to all of Our Jewish readers.

The birthdays, meanwhile, get their very own paragraph.  We are fairly certain this is An Historic First here at Erix Daily Horoscope (not that We’re about to do the research necessary to confirm that), as We have not one, not two, not even three, but FOUR birthdays in Our Gentle Readership today.  (Not, We suspect, that most of these people are reading, but We hope to change that…)

So firstly, happy birthday to Sara, who turns twenty-four today.  Sara is, amongst her many other accomplishments, the creator of The Real Housewives of South Philly, and also, of course, one of its stars.  She is currently playing The Match Game in The Real Housewives of South Philly Play The Match Game!, and, if you haven’t seen her doing that, shame on you.  Seconal, happy birthday to Lex, who turns twenty-four today in China (no, really).  Lex is, amongst his other many accomplishments, the creator of the little-known sequel to the opera Nixon in China, entitled, naturally, Lex in China.  He is also a naked skimmer.  Whom We have seen naked.  Thirstily, happy birthday to Richard, who turns, coincidentally, twenty-four today, not in China.  Richard is, amongst his other many accomplishments, the author of the blog Nothing Good Happens After Midnight, which We read, even though We suspect he does not read these e-pisstles.  (We are sensing a trend in that area.)  He is also called “Richard” only by Us, so you have no way of finding out who he actually is. 

FourScoreAndSevenYearsAgoLy, happy birthday to Lauren, who is not even close to turning twenty-four today.  Lauren was, amongst her other many accomplishments, on the production team of the Drexel student fillum We recently shot, and We hope to make her a new Gentle Reader, and thus begin Our triumphant march to fame amongst the college crowd.  (They have still taught college students to read by the second or third year, yes?)

Whew!  That done plumb wore Us out!  And We haven’t even started eating cake yet.

Speaking of fleeting fame fleeting like a Fleets™ enema through a goose supersonically, if you haven’t checked out Our most recent claim to same, please do:

Other than that, we have precious little else to report. Tickets are selling like hotcakes for The Match Game, so grab yours quick before they’re gone:  There are only six more shows:  Wednesday at 7:30 and 9:30, Friday and Saturday at 7:30, and Sunday at 6 and 8.  People were seriously complaining last night that their faces hurt from laughing so hard.  We are NOT making that up.

Here is a little interview given by Jesus H. Christ, who is a Match Game celebrity:

Here is what the City Paper reviewer had to say about Our little epic:

Here is last year’s Virgo video, just in case you prefer a bit of naked angel with your morning horoscope:

Here’s the HorrorScope:

(Kelli would like Us to know that it is Jada Fucking Pinkett Smith’s birthday today.  Sorry, Kelli, but even individually, Sara, Lex, Richard, or Lauren trump Jada Fucking Pinkett Smith, but together?   Pffffttt.  Go watch your creepy daughter whip her hair back and forf.)

You should do what you can to defer your own pressing needs (We?  Do not press.  We’re pretty sure We OWN an iron, but We couldn’t tell you where it is.  Our theory is that wrinkled clothes make Us look less wrinkled by comparison.)

— those closest to you are more important for today!  (Was that sentence an ESL translation or what?  Lex, what is she talking about?)

That doesn’t mean you don’t matter, just that you can do more good focusing on others’ lives.  (Well, naturally.  We can run everybody’s life but Our Own.)

If you’re feeling the urge to start something that will offer you a challenge, (Like a Fleets™ enema?)

today offers you a great opportunity to do just that. (Clearly, it’s Supersonic Goose Poop Day here on the Mouseketeer Club.)

 It’s a very good time for you to initiate a new work, school or hobby project — and if legal documents are involved, so much the better. (Unless, of course, they are restraining orders.  We can barely keep up with those, they pour in so quickly. Johnny Depp, Justin Bieber, Prince Harry…lawyers are making a fortune.)

You have been doing a lot of clear thinking, (Obviously.  Just read any e-pissode of these e-pisstles.)

and the conclusions you have come to recently are dead on, (Or dead on arrival.  One of those.)

so you have no reason to doubt your convictions. (Wait…We got convicted?  Did We sleep through the trial?)

 Things are about to get interesting (We’ll be the judge of that.)

— and you should be very pleased.  (Yes.  Yes, We should.  But We never are.)

 Before you open up your mouth and blurt it all out, (Open up Uranus for a supersonic goose poop.)

(We’re gonna pause here while you enjoy the Technicolor™ visual that accompanies that.)

(You’re welcome.)

consider the consequences — and there are always consequences. (And yet, so rarely truth.)

The people around you are highly sensitive today. (Pigfuckers.)


One wrong word or glance, and it’s all over.  (Well. Way to pee in THAT punchbowl, Kelli.)

Better to say as little as possible until calmer minds prevail.  (You saved this advice for the END?  Way to be an Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist), AssHat.)

Oh, money can't buy you happiness? Well poverty can't buy you anything.


(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.