Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherMatchboxTwenty, January 14, 2013
(whatever happened to MatchboxTwenty (or is it Matchbox20? (and have We really
already digressed twice, before even finishing the first sentence of the
e-pissode? (We just went a-Googling on Wikipedia…apparently, it was “Matchbox20”, but now it’s “Matchbox
Twenty”. The rest of the story is equally
snooze-inducing.))))
We really have no time for all this
parentheticality this morning, as We are up to Our turban in birthday wishes,
both timely and belated. (Why, yes, We
DO put Our turban on to write these e-pisstles…this here is High Art, ladies
and genitals, and High Art requires A Process.
Or at least A Highness. (We’ll
take His Highness Prince Harry for the win.))
Happy Birthday, belatedly, to Marc, who
turned twenty-four yesterday. In Chicago, Illinois. (Cue Lesley Ann Warren in Victor, Victoria singing “Chicago, Illinois”
and flashing her coochie.) His blog,
which once had the incredible good taste to name Us “Groovy Reader of the Month”,
can be found here: http://marcharshbarger.blogspot.com/
(Micro$oft Weird™ is frowning upon Our
spelling of “coochie”, but refuses to offer Us any sensible alternatives (“cookie”
being not at all the same thing).)
Happy Birthday, also belatedly, to John, who also
turned twenty-four yesterday. In San
Francisco. California. For which, to the
best of Our knowledge, Lesley Ann Warren has no song, but where she may, in all
probability, have flashed her coochie.
(Is anyone else currently picturing Lesley Ann Warren singing, “Rice-A-Roni™…the
San Francisco treat!”, then flashing her coochie? Just Us?
Alrighty, then.)
Happy Birthday, also also belatedly, to Rich,
who also also turned twenty-four yesterday right here in The City That Loves
You (On Your) Back. And Happy Birthday, also also also belatedly, to Michael,
who also also also turned twenty-four yesterday right here in The City That
Loves You (On Your) Back. (If it’s all the
same to you, We’re gonna get off Lesley Ann Warren and give somebody else a
chance.)
And that’s just the folks
We missed by not e-pisstlitizing on the weekend. Onward and upward to birthdays au courant
Sterling Silliphant Joyce Bulifant Mary Quant.
Happy Birthday to Michael, not to be confused with
Michael-From-The-Preceding-Paragraph, who turns twenty-four today in
Delaware. Also, Happy Birthday to Ed,
who also turns twenty-four today right here in Soufffilly. Also also, Happy Birthday to Kate, who also also
turns twenty-four today, somewhere in suburbia that’s green (and, speaking of “Somewhere
That’s Green”, if Lesley Ann Warren had had a few fewer birthdays, how fabulous
would she have been as Audrey in Little
Shop Of Horrors?)
Day-um! We are exhausted, and that’s just the
birthday wishes! Fortunately, We shall
be spared recounting Our weekend’s dreams to you, as We have been informed
recently by another WorldWideInterWebNetzian forum that people don’t care to
hear other people’s dreams. One
participant actually lamented that his partner shares all of his dreams, and he
doesn’t know how to make it stop. So far
be it from Us to torment you, Gentle Readers, by detailing Our nocturnal
acrobatics with a chocolate-covered Johnny Depp and the double-jointed unicorn.
We have some cinematic observations
from Our weekend as well (and, for you ladies of the heterosexual persuasion,
We had yet another not-a-date with a Gentleman Caller From The Other Team (We won’t even tell you how old this one was
(could someone please find Us some gay friends?
KThxBye.))), but we think We had best save those for the morrow, as this
particular e-pissode of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! is already reaching epic
proportions.
Please share Starzina’s
Time of the Month Horoscopes:Capricorn video with a friend. (Extra credit points if it’s a gay friend.):
And here are the HorrorScopes:
OOG (“Oh Our God!”, for you InterNetzian Illiterates), in
addition to all of the Gentle Readers listed above whose birthday is today, it
is also Miss Faye Dunaway’s birthday!
Hollywood. Royalty. (Although, We are guessing, not her
twenty-fourth birthday. (Sorry, Faye.))
Your ability to lead is unquestioned, (Then why bring it
up? Bitch.)
but sometimes you forget to make your move. (We have forgotten more things than many
other people ever knew. Also, you are a
twatnozzle.)
Now is the time to remind everyone what you are capable of.
(Where’s the fun in that? It’s much better to surprise them.)
Inspire them, cajole them, or do whatever else it
takes. (“Cajole” is a peculiar word,
no? Consider it as part of this
group: cajole, frijoles, cojones. Discuss.)
Your resources are feeling a bit pinched lately. (And, by “resources”, you mean what,
exactly? Because if someone were
(subjunctively) to pinch Us, We would have to pinch Ourself to see if We were
dreaming. But, if We were
(subjunctively) dreaming, We wouldn’t be allowed to tell you about it. Sigh.)
But your creativity is still fully fleshed out. (Was that a
fat joke?)
And powerful! (Was
that a fart joke?)
So if you’re feeling strapped for cash, simply apply your
ingenuity to the situation. (How much
are you willing to give Us for Our ingenuity?)
(Actually, that is completely stupid advice, as We haven’t
been an ingénue in YEARS. (Not, of
course, as many years as Miss Faye Dunaway, but still…))
(See how We tie all the threads together? We are A Highly-Trained Professional…do not
attempt this at home.))
Why not barter if you don’t have the money? (Why not Bob Barker?)
(What?)
Talk them into giving it to you for free? (Whores sell it, sluts give it away.)
(We, apparently, are neither.)
You can think of a new way to get what you want without
giving up more than you have. (Isn’t
that a Rolling Stones song?)
People are willing to work with you on this, so ask them
how you can make it work. (Work is a
four-letter word.)
Take some alone time to plot the course of the next few
moves you want to take in your love life. ((Move Number 1.) Get one.)
While you’re not used to taking things at such a deliberate
pace, the stars recommend doing some very detailed and strategic planning. (Well, the stars are very nice and all, but
what does Uranus have to say about it?)
(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.
There is an internetZ diatribe being bandied abiut which informs Us that it is completely unacceptable to use two spaces after a period whilst typing.
ReplyDelete"Rubbish!" I say. If *I* am the author ofafter something, *I* will decide his many spaces are used after a period, thankyouverymuch.
What are your thoughts?
Please note: the above text was written using the keyboard on my (not so) smart phone. The typos are the fault of Samsung. We? Do not make mistakes.
ReplyDeleteNot that I ever formally learned to type, but Back In The Day of actual typewriting (you know, chisels, stone tablets, etc.), One always put two spaces after a period, and, consequently, that looks more elegant/correct to Our eye to this day.
ReplyDeleteIt is unclear to Us why (or whether) that was necessary back then, just as it is unclear to Us why (or whether) it should be prohibited now. However, if it is in some way detrimental to The Realm, surely the computer should be able to strip out the extra space autocorrectionally without annoying the creator. What, after all, would the computer do if One left three or four (or seven) spaces after a period? (Of course, Micro$oft Weird(TM) still bothers One if One has accidentally left two spaces between words, so perhaps this is not as easy as One would suspect.)
In other news, speaking of periods, We are having Ours right now.
Great minds think alike. I was thinking the same thing re: autocorrecting the superfluous space. I will continue to do things my way, because I'm old and I can. Thanks for your input.
ReplyDeleteOh... Try a Pamprin.
I'm old, too, but I can-can.
ReplyDeleteShow off!
ReplyDelete