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Monday, October 1, 2012

God save The Queen




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for JustAnotherManholeMonday, October 1th, 2012.  Happy Labour Day to Our Gentle Readers Down Under.  Also, Happy Queen’s Birthday, because apparently they like their holidays two at a time.  We swear, that bitch has more damn birthdays…she should be six hundred and seventy-lebben years old by now.

D’you think We would get into trouble if We moved to London and opened a pub called The Queen’s Vagina?  Shaun?

Happy First Day Of October to everyone, most especially Our friends in Salem, whose peaceful little town is about to be overrun by tourists, if it hasn’t been already.  May the annual invasion at least prove profitable, and may you avoid as much annoyance as possible.

Speaking of Salem, here, ladies and genitals, boyzzz and gurrrlllzzz, is the first single released by Scary Mary and the Audio Corsette, “Set Her Free”:


In still other news, We saw a preview performance of Next to Normal at the Arden yesterday, because Our very Own Justin Bieber was in it, and lettuce just say, run, do not walk.  We cannot recall when We have had such an amazing experience in a theatre.  The piece is brilliant (apparently, Pulitzer Prizes are not just given out randomly…who knew?), the performances are all honest and affecting…We cannot say enough good things.  The actual opening is Wednesday, and it runs till November 4, but get your tickets NOW, as they will not be gettable once the word gets out: http://ardentheatre.org/2013/nexttonormal.html




We say all that, of course, having already seen Justin Bieber’s penis, so there’s clearly nothing in it for Us:


Now, of course, it occurs to Us that We’ve put Justin Bieber’s penis and The Queen’s Vagina in the very same horoscope, and We’re fairly certain  there must be a British law against THAT.  (Although We did have the presence of mind to realize that The Royal Vagina must be capitalized.)  Perhaps they will send Prince Harry to give Us a spanking.

Speaking of blast-from-the-past videos, here is last year’s Libra video to compare with this year’s (see above):


If you are anything like Us, We should probably just stop talking now, as you are no doubt finding it as impossible as We are to get past the phrase “Justin Bieber’s penis and The Queen’s Vagina”.

Also, We should wrap this up as We are supposed to be writing a murder mystery for a dinner theatre.  Unfortunately, all We can think of at this point is Nancy Drew and the Mystery of Justin Bieber’s Penis and The Queen’s Vagina.  Just wait till Pamela Sue Martin gets the script for THAT one.

It being a new month and all, We are now Groovy Reader of LAST Month over at Deep Dish.  Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?:  http://marcharshbarger.blogspot.com/2012/09/groovy-reader-of-month-eric-singel.html




Here’s the HorrorScope:

Speaking of Pamela Sue Martin, it is Stella Stevens’s birthday today, and if you don’t know the connection, you may have been nakedly skimming the waffle iron instead of these horoscopes.  Also, it is Julie Andrews’s birthday, which We mention mainly because if One imagines HER saying “Justin Bieber’s penis and The Queen’s Vagina”, it doesn’t sound nearly as nasty.

You need to take action today — it’s in your blood!  (That sentence is much more effective if you say it like Bela Lugosi.  No, really…go back and try it…We’ll wait.)

(See?)

You can’t help but feel engaged with the world (If they liked it, then they shoulda put a ring on it.)

and maybe a little excited as you use this terrific energy to make your dreams come true!  (Oh, please.  With the quantity and quality of dreams We’re having these days, We’re gonna need to be VERY specific about this “coming true” business.)

Are you getting a bit bored with your regular way of doing things? (Yes.  Which is why We just ate an entire box of Ex-Lax™.  And as soon as We get this canvas stretched, We’re gonna make an homage-to-Jackson-Pollock painting.  From his Brown Period.)

(See?  And you thought  “Justin Bieber’s penis and The Queen’s Vagina” was bad.)

If so, then your timing is perfect — this day will bring you just enough tumult  (“Tumult”?)

To keep things interesting, and keep you on your toes! (Sorry, but no matter how much tumult there is, Our tutu-wearing days are over.)

But if you’re happy as a clam (What does this even mean?  Inquiring minds want to know.  So We went Googling on Wikipedia and found this:

A highly respected scientist has determined, contrary to popular belief, that not only are most clams not happy, they are in fact severely depressed! Dr. Patra Gupta, of the Kerala Institute of Undersea Study, monitored over 1,000 clams closely for seven years. "The results speak for themselves," states Gupta.

Those results indicate, for one thing, that the clams' liquid secretions are identical in DNA structure to human tears. "Clams also have less mobility than almost any other living creature, one of the sure signs of depression, " adds Gupta. "They don't fight back, don't react to pain, take no interest in their appearance, don't play or communicate. I've seen suicidal individuals with more zest for life, coma patients with a greater level of activity. These clams have less than zero interest in living; we might as well eat them."

Gupta's team attempted to generate some degree of happiness or life in the clams, introducing them to the far peppier shrimp, scallops, crab, lobster, even angel fish. But nothing. "Those clams couldn't have cared less; they scarcely peered out of their shells. It was quite rude, actually. We're getting in touch with a fish therapist to see if counseling might help, but quite honestly, I'm not holding out a lot of hope for it. I think we're just going to have to face the fact that clams as a species are severely depressed."

with the status quo, then have no fear. (And Kelli finished her sentence, such as it was, despite the fact that no one was listening.  Asshat.)

You’ll be able to negotiate the tiny hiccups that you encounter throughout the day.  (You will find that, if you hold your breath for an hour or so, hiccups will be the least of your problems.)

Regardless, you should consider this an experimental time in your life. (So it’s a phase?  We hardly think so.)

Exploring new ways of thinking will be very illuminating. (Wait…We have to THINK now?)

Spontaneity rules the day, so what do you want to do on the spur of the moment?  (That depends…lettuce check Our schedule.)

Try smiling at any hotties you see (Okay, Happy Hour is gonna be really weird now.  Sorry, Justin.)

 

— or just say hello. (Hello…HELLO…HELLO.)

 

(You knew to sing that like The Three Stooges, right?)

 

 (Your Your-O-Scopes:


http://www.humorscope.com)


(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!)
                            
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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.