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Monday, December 31, 2012

So here’s an apple; let’s play Scrabble™.



Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  NotJustAnotherManicMonday, December 31th, 2012.  Happy New Year’s Eve to Juan Anne Dahl.  We have SO much to Cher with you today; this e-pissode is going to be jam-packed and fun-filled (ordinarily, at this juncture, We would make a “fudge-packed” joke, but We are trying ever-so-hard to be classy. (How the fuck are We doin’?))


This is Our 275th e-pissode of 2012!  That is an Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! all-time record!  And all at no extra charge to Our Gentle Readers!


It is unclear to Us whether today or tomorrow is the last day of Holidailies™ (for you naked skimmers, that would be the community writing project in which We have been participating which encourages blogginators to blogginate on a daily basis for the month of December ( http://www.holidailies.org/ )).   But, whichever day it is, We figgered We had better start sharing What We Learned today.


Also, We will be doing an e-ncore presentation of the very last Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! from 2011.  Not, this time, to take the place of Our regularly-scheduled e-pissode, but because We went and looked at it, and it’s a pretty funny e-pissode (which, coincidentally, contains the origin of Our neologism (heh…We said “gism”) “e-pissode”, amongst (many) other things.  So, if you’re a newbie here from Holidailies™, it will be new to you.


But first, completely out of left field (that’s some kind of sports reference, innit?), as a treat for those of you who are stuck in your workplaces today (and even for those of you who are not), here, from the Rich White Boys With Too Much Time On Their Hands Department, is this (which is, in case We were not yet clear enough, Safe For Work):





And now, on a more serious note (LA!), What We’ve Learned From Holidailies™:


 (We just paused to open up Our 2013 calendar (because We have the attention span of a gnat that’s been in the cooking sherry) and discovered that Kwanzaa ends tomorrow.  YouPeople never even told Us it started.  Dammit.)


We have been hearing about Holidailies™ for years, and Our response always was, “Oh, We could never write something every day like that!”  This year, We finally realized that We already practically were.  (We’re slow like that.)  Still, We almost didn’t participate, as We are familiar with the work of some of the other participants, and We didn’t think Our oeuvres would exactly overlap.  (Did that sound dirty to you?  Because it sounded dirty to Us, and We knew what We were talking about.  (Sort of.))


(Parenthetically (hence the parentheses), We mistyped “participants” in that paragraph in such a way as to point up the fact that it contains the word “pants”.  We would make a joke about that, but We are trying to press on.  (Insert Lee™ Press-On Nails joke here.))


Nevertheless, participate We did, with the intention of writing every day.  And We’d’ve made it, too, if it weren’t for those pesky kidz.  We only missed one day, and it was Our initial intention to use the “you can post every 8 hours” loophole to go back and fix that, but now We’ve decided not to.


We didn’t need Holidailies™, as some participants do, to encourage Us to write more regularly.  We were already producing Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! e-pissodes on quite a regular basis (albeit not actually “daily”, but still).  In fact, it has of late become Our intention to scale back on Our Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! schedule, so that We might devote time thus saved to several other writing projects, the one of which We are willing to disclose at this time being the script for a one-bitch Starzina show to be produced in 2013.


So, when the next Holidailies™ rolls around (which, the way time currently flies, will be about a month from now), We intend to play again, but with quality not quantity as Our manta ray’s mantra from Monterrey (what the hell happened THERE?), and produce just as many e-pissodes as We happen to produce.


If anyone has continued to read this far (or if a naked skimmer happens to alight), We would like to take this opportunity to thank the hosts of Holidailies™ for having Us.


Here is the link with which you may share Our Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: CAPRICORN video with your friends:




And here is the promised E-ncore Presentation, all the way from December 30, 2011:

Who are you doing New Year’s, New Year’s Eve?


Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for New Year’s Eve Eve, Eve was weak, dirty pillows, etc.   Today’s epistle will be somewhat abbreviated, as We must be off to purchase pork and kielbasa. (We wish that were (subjunctively) a euphemism, but sadly, it is not.)

We just paused to ponder how one might actually abbreviate an epistle, and came up with “episs”.  Which led to further speculation on the fact that, prior to the advent of computers, We just had plain old mail, and now We have email.  So presumably, back in the day, We had plain old pistles, and now We have epistles.  We do so hope these speculations don’t episs off the Corinthians.

That there was a little biblical humor.  Much like the one about Mary Magdalene and the whoopee cushion.  Here is another bit of biblical humor that We encountered on the WorldWideInterWebnetz this morning: 

Church is pretty much a book club where they assign the same book every week, but everyone still forgets to read it.

In still other news, We are having serious SitOnMyFaceBook issues.  We were minding Our own business yesterday, attempting to update Our status by posting the link to yesterday’s e-pistle and a quote from http://www.textsfromlastnight.comwhen We noted that SOMFB was not so much letting Us post.  Naturally, We tried a number of times, and were finally informed that, due to some unspecified infraction, We would have “limited access” for “a few days”.  “Limited access” apparently means that We can look at SOMFB, but We can’t post anything or send any messages.  Which pretty much defeats the whole purpose of social media.   We also discovered, buried deep in the SOMFB bylaws, the fact that, because We tried to post repeatedly, “a few days” might mean any damn thing.  If anyone is looking for Us, We’ll be over on MySpace.  (At least We know there’ll be more people there than there are on Google+.)

So could folks help a social media whore out and share Our Capricorn video with your friends?  Or stick it on your page?  Or send it to the folks at the Logo network and get Us a damn contract?


You can share it using this:


You can see it here:



Maybe if We just offer Jesse Eisenberg a few biblical favors, We can find Our way out of this mess.

And now, Charlene Tilton reads John Milton to Paris Hilton.  Alternatively, The HorrorScope:

 Make sure that you’re using your energy in the right way (Blowing Jesse Eisenberg, yes?)

(Ooops….was that vulgar?  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)

— and that those around you are getting at least some of the benefit of it. (Jesse Eisenberg won’t know what hit him.  We can suck a golf ball through a garden hose.)

(What do We want?
A cure for Tourette’s!
When do We want it?
Cunt!)

(We love that joke.)

 You should be able to help yourself as you help the world.  (God helps those who helps themselves, so We’ll help Ourself to another helping of Hamburger Helper™.)

(Where did that saying come from?  We’re reasonably sure that Hamburger Helper™ isn’t in the bible.  Loaves-and-Fishes Helper™, probably, and Manna Helper™ almost definitely, but We’re pretty sure they didn’t kill the fatted calf and mix it up with Hamburger Helper™.  (They probably used Manwich™.))

(Hey, if RepubliKlan presidential candidates can make up what the bible says, so can We.)

Someone you usually have a real problem with is going to be a bigger part of this day than you’d ideally like or so you think, (We can only IMAGINE what that means.  Presumably, We’ll wind up having to blow Mark Zuckerberg instead of Jesse Eisenberg, when, all things considered, obviously…







…wait for it…







…are you ready?...














…We’d rather be an Eisenberger helper™ than a Zuckerberger Helper™.  (Oh, the comedy!  Our sides, they split; Our pants, We pee.))

but the good news is (There’s good news?)

that you will slowly find yourself getting to like their little idiosyncrasies as the day moves forward. (Why is it that, as soon as somebody tries to dismiss something as “a little idiosyncrasy”, it always turns out to be like cannibalism, or pedophilia, or the Spanish Inquisition?)

 Maybe it’s the more flexible mood you’ve been in lately, maybe it’s the pleasant turn in the weather, or maybe it’s just because you’re tired of being annoyed by them. (Or maybe Justin Bieber’s pubes.  (Hey, he’s seventeen.  If We ask him “que pasa?”, We can fuck him, as long as We eat him afterwards.))

(That was a little “cannibalism, pedophilia, Spanish inquisition” joke.  For all of Our pervert readers.)

(We used to be into S&M, necrophilia, and bestiality, but then We realized We were just beating a dead horse.)


Whatever the reason, rejoice in the fact that the day’s frustration level will be low.  (That’s what Jesse Eisenberg said.)

 Okay, guys and gals, (“Gals”?  Seriously?  What the hell is it, 1957?)

it’s time to set some goals. (You set the goals, Asshat; We’ll take care of the goalies.)

 Not the kind at either end of the football field — the romantic kind, sillies! (“Sillies”?  Oh, it’s 1957 on Fire Island.)

Who do you want to love, and when? (This is an Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulation)….you’re supposed to be telling Us.)

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

 (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:  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.
                                                                                                                                    

Sunday, December 30, 2012

A daydream believer and a homecoming queen (walk into a bar?)




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for SunDee FunDee, Deecember 30, 2012.   Happy Birthday to Josh, who turns twenty-four today in New Yawk.  And Happy Birthday to Jason, who turns twenty-four today in El Lay.  Look how cosmopolitan We are, with Our bi-coastal birthday wishes!  (Actually, it’s only 10:30; a Cosmopolitan at this point would probably be a sign of a problem.)

Meanwhile, in Our efforts to get Our errands done yesterday before the blizzard, We apparently managed to be out and about at the only point in the day during which actual snow fell.  It turned to rain shortly thereafter and remained so for the duration, being supplanted today by beautiful sunshine.  And We are not complaining one bit.

We did betake Ourself out into the monsoon later in the day to have cocktails with TCBITWWW, who zipped into The City Of Brotherly Love Handles from El Lay by way of New Yawk for a Christmas minute.  (Again with the cosmopolitanosity.)  We had said cocktails at Brauhaus Schlitz Schmidtz Shitz Whatever-That-German-Restaurant-On-South-Street-Is-Called.  It is a lovely space, and We are dying to eat there, except for the fact that they dress up their female staff in German hooker costumes, while the male staff wears T-shirts and jeans.  It’s like the German version of Hooters (Hüters?)

At any rate, We exchanged gifts, and among Our gifts were two lovely bracelets from a company called Haute Betts, which We only mention because, when he said the name of the company in the noisy bar, Our deaf old ears thought he was saying “Haute Mess”, which is, in Our humble opinion, a much better name for a company.

In other news yesterday, you will recall that We have been participating in Holidailies™  ( http://www.holidailies.org/ ) , a community writing project which encourages blogginators to blogginate on a daily basis for the month of December.  Now, many things about the Holidailies™ process remain arcane to Us, amongst them being, is Holidailies™ like Fight Club, in that you don’t talk about it outside of Fight Club…er, Holidailies™? (Sorry; We were momentarily distracted by picturing Brad Pitt naked.)  However, as We have clearly already violated that rule, We are here to tell you that yesterday’s e-pissode of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! was honored with a Best of Holidailies™ award! (No doubt because the judges were so shocked that We wrote an original entry, instead of cheating with an encore presentation from 2010, but still…)

Here is the link with which you may share Our Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: CAPRICORN video with your friends:


And here come the HorrorScopes:

Meanwhile, it turns out that both Davy Jones and Michael Nesmith of The Monkees were born today, thus sharing a birthday.  We just learned that, and now you know it too.  There’s a brain cell you’ll never get back.

Even if you don’t have a big party coming up, now is still a great time for some power cleaning.  (Why does “power cleaning” strike Us as a euphemism for “enema”?)

It’s good for your soul as well as your floors, (What is “floors” a euphemism for?)

so tackle those mundane problems with new energy!   (All these euphemisms!  It’s just like the old saying, “with all this horseshit, there MUST be a pony!”)


Sharing your controversial ideas and opinions with other people is wonderful, but are you sharing them with the right folks right now?  (That Depends™…are YouPeople the right folks?)

Preaching to the choir can be a big waste of time right now, (Insert “whore in church” joke here.)

especially if you really want to make some changes in the world. (Stop the world, Boris Karloff.)

(What does that even MEAN?)

Stop seeking out people who agree with everything you say, (Why?  We LOVE those people!)

and start seeking those who don’t. (Grrr…)

It’s time for you to put your energy toward debate (Oh, We are MASTER of de bate!)

 (What?)

— toward changing the minds of people who you think are supporting the wrong thing.  (We have no idea what you are talking about, but We are an athletic supporter.)

(That was a non sequitur.  (Why are things always non sequiturs?  Why is nothing ever just a sequitur?))

Are you your own worst enemy when it comes to love? (Enemy…enema…enemy…enem-ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…)

(Sorry.)

It’s time to be your own best friend instead. (Is there anyone who DOESN’T know that that’s a euphemism for masturbation?)

Crushes on unsuitable types, dates that go nowhere — talk yourself out of them and help yourself get over them.  (That does it…We’re buying a blow-up doll.)

(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:  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.
                                                                                                                                    

Saturday, December 29, 2012

He sees you when you’re sleeping; he knows when you are naked




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday night’s alright, December 29, 2012.  Happy Birthday to Justin, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves you (On Your) Back, aka The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.  It is unclear to Us at this juncture, but We may actually lay Our two eyes upon said Justin later in the day, which is not something We can often say about those whom We are wishing well on the occasion of their twenty-fourth birthday.

So, at any rate home is the tailor, home from the tea.  Whatever the fuck THAT means.  Who the hell keeps using these meaningless old sayings, anyway?  It’s not like anybody actually READS, fercrissakes.

Meanwhile, when last We spoke (in depth, anyway (because We are NOTHING if not deep (not real meaningful, but REAL deep))), We were anticipating The Apocalypse.  Which turned out to be not all it was cracked up to be. (Speaking of old sayings, there’s one that has certainly altered its meaning over the years: “cracked up”.  Heh.)

We trust you will forgive Us if We seem to be dithering.  For one thing, We are happy to be typing this on a computer that does at least SOME of what We tell it to do.  And (B.), We are debating going out to run Our daily errands before the blizzard begins.  So if a big long pause happens here, you’ll know that’s what We did.

So did you miss Us?  We did in fact go out to the outside world.  Of course, it took Us so long to make Ourselves presentable enough to do so that the snow had already started by the time We did.  On the plus side, nothing was laying yet.   Which should come as no surprise to anyone who knows Us.  Why, if We would just stay outside for the duration of the blizzard, We could probably prevent ALL the snow from getting laid, as well as Our Own Self.

And now, as many of Our recent e-pisstles have, of necessity, been rather rushed, or e-ncore presentations (as an aside, We were given to wondering on a recent train trip why they had “egads” prior to The Electronic Age.  Shouldn’t they have just been “gads”, which were ultimately replaced by “e-gads”?   (Vacation time shares are still available in Our mind for the months of January and February.)), We intend to wax loquacious on a topic of recent interest to Us all: The Holidays.

(Parenthetically (hence the parentheses), the phrase “wax a loquacious carrot” just leapt unbidden into what passes for Our mind, and We thought We’d Cher.)

Now, lettuce be clear.  Contrary to what Faux News would have you believe, We don’t think there is any War On Christmas.  Christmas is alive and kicking, and looks like it will be so for quite some time.  Naturally, We say “Happy Holidays” just like the next person, but We start saying it at Thanksgiving (which is, you will notice, a holiday), when One would sound like a complete idiot if One said “Merry Christmas”, and We continue saying it all through Hanukkah, when it would be rude to say “Merry Christmas”, because Christmas hasn’t come yet (neither have We, but that’s a digression of another color), but Hanukkah has.   And, quite frankly, We have no idea when the fuck Kwaaaanzaaa even is (or, clearly, how to spell it), but just in case, We’re covered there too.

And what about the phrase itself?  “Merry Christmas”…really?  You wish for Us to be merry for one day, while, when We say “Happy Holidays”, We are wishing for you to be happy beginning at Thanksgiving and lasting all the way through The Feast Of The Epiphany (or, at a stretch, Martin Luther King Day, if you procrastinate about taking your tree down).    And who even says “merry”, anyway?

All that said, however, We would like to address a simple assault on Christmas, which is becoming more and more prevalent in this E-gads E-lectronic A-ge.   Somehow, it is becoming socially acceptable for wannabe hipsters to take to their keyboards and spew endless screeds under the subject line “I Hate Christmas”, in the course of which they slyly mock those of Us who do not:  “Oh?  Do you really still send cards/put up a tree/roast a goose/dress up like the Grinch and deflower a virgin?  I didn’t think anyone did that anymore.  It’s so…Dickensian.” (Okay, We just put that “Grinch/virgin” part in there to see if you were paying attention.)

Now, the “I Hate Christmas” people seem to come in two varieties.  The first are those who think the whole thing is just too much work.  For this lot, We hold out hope, as it is indeed not possible in this day and age to have a real tree with lighted candles, roast goose and boiled turkey for a sit-down family dinner for thirty-seven, homemade presents for every member of said family, wine from one’s own vineyard, and snow on the lawn to order through which one drives in a one-horse open sleigh, whatever the hell that may be, to Midnight Mass.  In fact, it probably never was, except possibly for Queen Victoria.

But Christmas, like everything else, is a thing that evolves and changes with the changing times. Once One convinces these people that they can pick and choose among the traditions (preferably after plying them with some wine from One’s Own vineyard), they will generally come around.

The other “I Hate Christmas” group is much more troublesome and, dare We say, hopeless.   When THEY say “I hate Christmas”, what they mean is, “No one will kowtow to my every whim and vague notion of how this holiday should be, not only for the day itself, but for the twelve days surrounding it.”  This lot is generally best avoided for the entire holiday season (and, in fact, for every other month of the year).  Because guess what, monkey butt?  Unless you are a four-year-old only child (and not necessarily even then), there is no one who feels that his or her primary job is to make sure YOU have a happy Christmas, especially at the expense of his or her own.

Now, We would like to say that We were about to tie this topic up with some neat little philosophical bow, in which We expound upon Seven Steps To Loving Christmas And Having A Happy Holiday Season.  But surely you know Us better than that.  So all We have to say is, next year, if you hate Christmas?  Shut yer fuckin’ fruitcakehole and stop pooping in the punchbowl of those of Us who do not.

KThxBye.

Here is the link with which you may share Our Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: CAPRICORN video with your friends:

http://youtu.be/m3Aa_X_HoVM        

 

We have no time to cope with Kelli’s ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulations), as We have ablutions to perform, presents to wrap, and wassailing to come a-.  TCBITWWW is comin’ to town! So here are

 

(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!)

*****************************************************************************

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.