Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherMillardFillmoreMonday, February 18, 2013. Happy Presidents Day, everybody! Those Gentle Readers with children must have already sung a bunch of Presidents Day carols around the Presidents Day tree, and opened all their Presidents Day presents. Here at OurHouseWhereWeLive, We’ve gotten a bit of a late start this morning, so Our celebrations have only gotten as far as Martin van Buren.
Our mind being what it is (or should that be “what it isn’t”, i.e. functional?), typing Martin van Buren just then made Us think of Mamie van Doren. It did not, unfortunately, make Us think of a joke involving the two of them, because, really, how many Martin van Buren jokes can there be?
We have a lot of birthday wishes today, as We neglected to wish weekend-birthday folks a happy birthday in advance on Friday, so We’re doing Double Doody Today Tootie Rootie Tootie Fresh And Fruity.
(Sorry…Our needle got stuck. (Old-timers will imagine that We mean a phonograph needle, but you youngsters will surmise (correctly) that We’re talking about a hypodermic needle. (Heroin…it’s not just for breakfast any more.)))
Happy Birthday to Mark, who turns twenty-four today in Arizona or some such state with an embarrassing governor. (In Oklahoma, not Arizona, what does it matter? What does it matter? (That there was a little musical interlude. On the hi-fi, for you oldsters.))
Happy Birthday also to Evan, who turns twenty-four today in New Yawk, and to Caroline, who turns twenty-four today in suburbia, and to Christopher, who not only turns twenty-four today, but also turned twenty-four over the weekend. Because he is two different people.
Howzzat for a segue? (What’s a segue? About a pound and a half. (Try to keep up, people, these jokes ain’t getting’ any younger.))
Happy Birthday to Aaron, and Donna, and Rachel, each of whom turned twenty-four over the weekend, without any help from each other, as, to the best of Our knowledge, they are unacquainted. Also, Happy Birthday to Rich, who’s all like, “Twenty-four? Day-um, y’all are OLD!”, and how cosmopolitan are We, to actually know people who aren’t twenty-four yet?
Here is a little Aquarius fillum, for Our birthday Aquarians:
Speaking of fillums, do NOT miss tomorrow’s e-pisstle, as it will be A Very Special E-Pissode for those who enjoy Our viZZZuals.
In other news, HimSelf asked Us to thank all of those who came out to watch him embarrass HimSelf as Jesus H. Christ in The VD Match Game. A good time was apparently had by all, except those with any taste or decency.
Meanwhile, speaking of birthdays, We had an amazingly revelatory dream this weekend. The details are a bit hazy, as We had it on Friday night, but essentially, in Our dream, it was Our birthday.
(We interrupt this dream to inform you that Our actual birthday is April 17th, and don’t let the fact that We spend all year wishing all y’all Happy Birthdays influence you in any way whatsoever. KThxBye.)
And on Our birthday in this dream (did We all of a sudden start singing “Old MacDonald Had A Farm (and Bingo Was His Name-O)”? (Oh, is that stuck in your head now? Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)), people were saying mean things to Us. On Our BIRTHDAY! So We said to them, We said (get ready for it): “Shut the fuck up, it’s my birthday!”
(We frequently eschew (gesundheit (thank you)) The Royal We in Our dreams.)
How ingenious is that? At first blush, you might think it would only work on One’s actual birthday. But, really, in addition to that, if the mean people were unacquainted with One’s actual birthday (as mean people are wont to be), it would work on any day of the year. (Although not, perhaps, on two days in succession.) And, even if the mean people were acquainted with One’s actual birthday, it would certainly give them a moment’s pause.
We think We shall start saying it all the time. Perhaps We shall “make it happen”. Much like “fetch”. (But UNlike “too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad”, which Our Google-O-Meter™ informs Us We are the only person on the WorldWideInterWebNetz ever to have said.)
And here are the HorrorScopes:
(Okay, not only Presidents Day, but also Yoko Ono’s birthday? We’re gonna need to bake more cookies!)
You need to take it easy (Nothing is as easy as We are. We are easy…easy like an Easy-Bake Oven™… (Bite Us, Lionel Richie.))
and see if you can get a little help (Wait…We have help? What is this, Downton Abbey?)
— things are going your way, but you could always use a little lift. (Or a little nip-tuck. (Tell Us what you don’t like about yourself.))
Check in with a friend or coworker to see if you can work together. (It is Presidents Day, bee-yotch. Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat.)
Be prepared for a few scheduling hiccups, today. (Oh, please. If only Our schedule ever only hiccupped. Usually it breaks out in hives, and then shits itself.)
(That there was a werd pixture We created just for you. You’re welcome.)
Suddenly, (And without warning?)
an unforeseen event (Much like the Pope’s resignation, We did Nazi that coming.)
could limit your free time and make you feel a little bit like you’re under the gun. (Whose gun is it, exactly?)
But have no fear! (Underdog is here!)
This rapid change of pace will not send you down a stressful path. (Perhaps a primrose path?)
Instead, it will be invigorating and bring out your competitive, aggressive nature. (Yeah, that doesn’t sound stressful AT ALL.)
This will be a funday, (Monday Funday? That almost NEVER happens!)
full of twists and turns that keep you on the edge of your seat — and ready for the next curveball to come your way! (Why are they throwing balls at Us if We’re sitting down? We’re not very good at this sort of thing, Kelli, but We fear you may have muddled your sports metaphor.)
You might run into a romantic obstacle today, (See also: Big Ol’ Dick.)
but when does that ever stop you? (See also: Three-Legged Race.)
You’ve got plenty of possibilities, (We’ve got plenty o’ nuthin’, and nuthin’s plenty for We.)
so make the most of them. (Don’t tell Us what to do. (We would love to close with a Martin van Buren joke, to be all thematological and all, but We know exactly nothing about him. Lettuce go Google him on Wikipedia, and see if there’s anything funny about him…BRB…))
(Nope, he was boring. We’re outtie.)
(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.