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Thursday, February 28, 2013

Time heals everything, Tuesday, Thursday

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  AlmostFriday, February 28, 2013.  Oh, Our dears!  We neglected to so much as pause to reflect the other day when We hit the two-thirds-through-Winter mark, and here We are, putting a fork in February!  And February does indeed look best in the rearview mirror with a big ol’ fork in its ass.  And We’re not talkin’ no little shrimp fork, neither.  This here is a big-ass ol’ serving fork, with five or six tines, and possibly electrified.  Fuck you, February, We never liked you!

On the plus side, the sun is shining.   On the minus side, through total fault of Our Own, We are on Day Two of Maya Angelou’s Christmas tree’s ass.  (If you don’t know what that means, you didn’t read yesterday’s e-pissode.  We’ll wait: )

Also on the plus side, We are rehearsing today, but not until the ever-so-much-more-civilized hour of 1:30.  We would tell you what We are rehearsing for, but then you wouldn’t go check out the SitOnOurFaceBook event for same, where they explain it all so much better than We could: (Oh, don’t lie to Us, you would not.  We have looked at Our calendar for yesterday, and it did not say, “Be born”.)

In random other news, We would very much like to pay Our gas bill, but We cannot find it.  The last time We could not find it, it was because it had not come yet, but, it being the very last day of February (hold your hats and hallelujah, mama’s gonna show it to ya), We suspect that that is not the case.

Meanwhile, shouldn’t it be Our husband’s job to find and pay the gas bill?   After all, it’s Our job to look pretty.  Which leaves Us very little time for gas.

Speaking of gas, We have released (wet fart…who’s got a comb?) Our new Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope video for Pisces, which see above.  Here is the link with which you would share same with your friends, both Piscean and otherwise: .

Here are the HorrorScopes:

How is it that, after all these years, Bernadette Peters’ birthday is still not a national holiday?

You’ve got to keep pushing in this new direction — you can tell that you’ve got a ways to go, but you can also tell that things are definitely improving!  (Well, at least, at this point, We are fairly sure that it will eventually be Spring.)

It’s a good time to give yourself a pep talk.  (What is this, the 50s?  How ‘bout We give Ourself a fucking pep PILL?)

When you know you’re right, you’re right!  (See, that sounds very simple, but it’s actually quite confusing.  For example, if We think We’re wrong, are We wrong, because We’re always right, or are We right because We’re always right, and therefore, wrong?)

So listen to what that little voice in your head is telling you today. (Is that little voice in Our big head or Our little head?  (We do everything the voices in Our pants tell Us to do.))

It has invaluable insight that you will need.  (How much insight can there be in the head that only has one eye?)

(Is it just Us, or is today’s e-pissode being written by Jean Paul Sartre?)

Someone’s invitation will catch you a bit off guard today, (Trust Us, if We actually got invited anywhere, We would be totally off guard.  People don’t even answer Our emails, let alone ask Us to go paces.)

but it will also show you a glimpse of your possible future. (We are much more interested in Our IMpossible future.  It is, after all Bernadette Peters Day.)

Is this the path you really want to take?  (In general, We try to avoid things called “paths”.)

Tune into that voice again and do whatever it says.  (Is anyone else currently picturing the contortions required for said voice to whisper in Our ear?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.  Keep calm and carry on.)

Picking the right path should not be something that you deliberate over for days. (Well, if We must pick a path, Sylvia Plath, let it be the primrose one.)

It should be something you just do.  (Like dykies in Nikes™, or tatting a doily.)

(We have no idea what just happened there.)

Rein in that assertiveness today. (Should We rein it in assertively?  You act as though words have no meanings, Kelli, and it is really starting to twist Our knickers.)

(Let’s twist Our knickers again, like We did last summer…)


Now’s not a good time to make the first move. (Then it must not be a good time to make ANY move.  Because, until the FIRST move is made….oh, never mind.)

Give the other person control of the situation.  (Should We hand over the reins ASSERTIVELY, ASShat?)

If nothing comes to fruition, it wasn’t meant to be. (Or it wasn’t meant to be fruit, at any rate.)

Move onto something else. (The specificity of that remark is so helpful, We are tempted to eat it with a fork. A big-ass ol’ serving fork, with five or six tines, and possibly electrified.)

(Now excuse Us, while We go eat cake with Bernadette Peters.)

(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:  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.