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Monday, February 11, 2013

Take a load off, Fanny


Hello, Ducks!



Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  JustAnotherManicurist’sMonday, February 11, 2013.  Our goodness Us!  (That’s like “my goodness me!”, except with The Royal We, for you newbies.)  It seems as though everyone and his Great-Aunt Fanny had a birthday this weekend! (Has anyone ever actually HAD a Great-Aunt Fanny?  And what is “Fanny” short for, anyway?  We know what it means when Aunt Flo comes to visit, but that has nothing to do with Fanny.  Or at least We hope it doesn’t, or Maxi might just not be Maxi enough. (Who the hell is Maxi now?  Lordy, YouPeople have peculiar relatives.))



What were We talking about?  Oh, yes, birthday wishes!  Happy Belated Birthday first of all to John, who turned twenty-four this past weekend.  (One wonders, inspired at this juncture by the many johns who have passed through Our life, whether it has ever occurred to any of YouPeople that if you had a friend named John who had had a birthday this weekend, you could pass this horoscope on to him and say, “I had Starzina wish you a happy birthday in Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!   You’re welcome.”  Probably not.  You don’t strike Us as being very bright.)



Happy Belated Birthday also to Annette, who also turned twenty-four this past weekend On The Street Where We Live.  Happy Belated Birthday also also to Pam, who turned twenty-four this past weekend in Pennsyltucky’s capital, also also also to Nick, who also also also turned twenty-four this past weekend right here in The City Of Brotherly Love (Handles) and with whom We must sometime soon share an adult beverage, and also also also also to Donald, who also also also also turned twenty-four this past weekend on a Vespa somewhere.



And last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Unbelated Birthday to Chris and to Keith, each of whom turned twenty-four just this very day, making them a day or two younger than all of those people in the preceding paragraph.



But enough of all this levity and frivolity…Starzina has things to do!  We must update Our résumé, brush up Our Shakespeare, and polish up Our tap shoes.  Oh, Our dears, have you heard the news?  There is a brand new opening in the show business firmament!  They are casting a new Pope, and Starzina is going to audition!  And We are just the woman for the job, too!  Why, We have practically and unlimited supply of glitzy ballgowns and costume jewelry, We hate any number of people (not, of course, the same people that the current Pope hates, but that’ll make a nice change), and We can fuck an altar boy with the best of ‘em.  (Although We do insist that they be over eighteen…We’re funny like that.)



Oh Our dears, We can see Us now!  And the icing on the communion wafer?  The POPEMOBILE!



You love Us for Our pink Popemobile
Plush velvet seats
Us behind the wheel, cruisin’ down the street
Wavin’ to the boys
Feelin’ outta sight
Spending all your tithings on a Saturday night….



Ooops…sorry.  We got carried away.  We’ll get off the Pope now, and give somebody else a chance.  But first, Our favorite reaction from the WorldWideInterWebNetz to the Pope’s abdication of his throne: “I did Nazi that coming!”



Speaking of old men in dresses and ruby slippers,  We shall be playing The VD Match Game on Friday and Saturday, February 15 and 16, at 7:30 at L’Etage.  You can obtain tickets here http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/331562 and find more info here
http://www.facebook.com/events/279672565493605/
  Our Sistah Ovella, for those of you who know her, will be playing also.




Here is a little Aquarius fillum, for Our birthday Aquarians:






And here are the HorrorScopes:



Taylor Lautner is twenty-one today.  Twenty-one is older than eighteen.  We intend to spend the rest of the day mentally dressing him up like an altar boy and smearing birthday cake on him.  YouPeople do whatever  you have to do.



Things are starting to get serious (Oh, We KNOW!  It just occurred to Us that, while We certainly have all the glitzy ballgowns a Pope could ever require, We are somewhat lacking in the Big Gay Hat department.   We have, as it (subjunctively) were, a chapeau shortage, a sombrero scarcity, a derby dearth, a porkpie paucity…should We stop?  Get Us a hatter, before We get mad!  Get Us Martin Milner’s milliner!  Quick, before We flip Our lid!)



(It’s been a long time since We’ve had this much excitement around here.)




— so make sure that you’re treating them with the care and respect they deserve!  (Why is Kelli still talking?)



You may find that your people don’t see things the same way you do, (Indeed.  Because apparently, We are seeing things that aren’t there.  Starting with “Our people’.)



but that is sure to change. (Everything changes.  Except for the fact that everything changes.  That doesn’t change.  So everything, apparently does NOT change. (This is why We can’t have nice things.))



 Any bad news you get today is really not going to be bad news at all — (Oh. Our. God.  Shut. Up. Kelli.)



 and it won’t cause a real problem for you or your people.  (Well, of course not.  Imaginary people can’t have real problems.  Can they?)



The person who will be telling you the news thinks things are different than they really are, so they’ll be happy when you set their mind at ease.  (How nice.  For THEM.)



All in all, you can expect this day to be neither totally fun  (We’d pretty much figgered that out already.)


nor utterly frustrating (On the plus side, Dallas is on later.  (On the plus SIZE, Our ass.))



 — it’s a kind of gray day (Spooky!  How did she know that?)



where nothing is going to get finalized but nothing can really get started, either.  (Also, nothing is going to get simonized but nothing can really get farted, either.)


(What?)



Luck isn’t exactly working for you when it comes to the love department now.  (Gee…ya think?)



In fact, the smartest approach might be no approach at all!  (The same cannot be said of cockroaches.)



Let them approach you, (Oh, sure.  Like Taylor Lautner is gonna show up on Our doorstep all of his own volition.)



or let the situation evolve naturally.  (Evolution?!?  Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat!  Like We’re gonna sit here with an amoeba and a paramecium and wait for them to turn into Taylor Lautner.)



(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!)

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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.