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Monday, March 11, 2013

There is a house in New Orleans

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  JustAnotherManTrickMonday, March 11, 2013.Oh, Our dears!   Our trusty Dilbert desk calendar informs Us that there are no less than FOUR holidays going on Down Undah in Australia today!  First off, it is Commonwealth Day, not only in Australia, but also in Canada, New Zealand, and the YUK.  It is Canberra Day, and also Labour Day, but only in the State of Victoria.  And, for those of you who are bitching this morning about the ravages of Daylight Saving Time, in the Australian State of Tasmania, today is something called “Eight Hours Day”.  Because they are Australian, and they don’t fuck around.

It must be very confusing to live in a country where all the states celebrate different holidays at different times.  Why, just imagine if, here in the Youessiveay, New Jersey were (sunjunctively (thank you, Shaun)) celebrating Arbor Day while Delaware celebrated Millard Fillmore’ s birthday, and Philadelphia were (sunjunctively (thank you, Shaun))  enjoying Kwanzaa during the Pennsylvania Dutch’s Rumspringa.  Chaos, havoc, and pandemonium, no?

Speaking of Rumspringa, and other such causes for celebration, festivity, and merriment, Happy Birthday to Christopher, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in WeHo.  (That is, of course, much like all other pronouns in these e-pisstles, The Royal WeHo, as in “You Tarzan, WeHo”.)

(We are so sorry.  That joke just came to Us, and that was the fastest way We could think of to tell it.  We trust that it was like ripping off a Band-Aid™, and has stopped hurting already.)

Meanwhile, as if Christopher’s natal anniversary weren’t (subjunctively) enough cause for celebration, here are a few more birthday wishes, so every state in Australia can celebrate something different:  Happy Belated Birthday to Todd, who turned twenty-four this weekend, also in California (We shall refrain from saying “WeHo” again.  You’re welcome.).  Also, Happy Belated Birthday to Michelle, who also turned twenty-four this weekend, in the Australian State of Kentucky.  Also also, Happy Belated birthday to Rachel, and to Brian, and to Judith, each of whom also also turned twenty-four this weekend, right here in The City Of Brotherly Love-Handles.

We are not the only One to remark on the number of June Honeymoon Baby birthdays being celebrated this time of year.  Just the other day, OurSean (hi, Sean!), coincidentally also in California, NWH (Not WeHo) was remarking on same on SitOnOurFacebook.  Great minds sink a dyke.  Whatever that means.

Our weekend, meanwhile was somewhat rollercoasteresque.  (What, Micro$oft Weird™? “Rollercoasteresque” isn’t a word?)  Our ailment continued, but was apparently a cold, not the flu.  We ministered to same with many past-their-expiration-date medicaments from Our medicine chest.

(What is up with expiration dates on pills, anyway?  One buys cold pills when One has a cold.  One takes them till the cold goes away, then the rest of them sit in the box till the expiration date passes, and One gets One’s next cold.  But what the hell happens to them?  “Oh, sorry, these antihistamines have all passed their expiration dates, so you can’t take any of them.  The blue ones have turned into heroin, and the pink ones have turned into crack cocaine, and the green ones have turned into deadly poison.”   We don’t know about you, but when We are sick, We are A Big Baby, and We fail to see the down side to any of those things.)

On Saturday, We scraped Ourself out of Our deathbed to go utter Our fifty-six words of dialog in the student fillum We got cast in.  Except We made it fifty-seven, by consistently saying “…tell Us ALL about yourself…” instead of “…tell Us about yourself…”  Because We’re a rebel and We’ll never, never be any good.

In between thespianizing and getting hopped up on pills, We watched several fillums Our Own Self:

The latest entry in the Bourne franchise, entitled, to the best of Our knowledge, We’re Going To Squeeze Every Last Nickel Out Of This Bourne Franchise Or Die Trying.  Herewith Our capsule review:  You, sir, are no Matt Damon.

Also, the Richard Gere thriller Arbitrage.  Capsule review:  Fatal Flaw:  One does not cheat ON Susan Sarandon, One cheats WITH Susan Sarandon.

Here is the SitOnOurFaceBook event where you can find out all about the show We’re directing, Uncharted Waters (and its companion piece, Superwoman), and say you’re coming:

Speaking of Rumspringa, why don’t’cha all celebrate by sharing Our new Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope video for Pisces with your friends: .

Here are the HorrorScopes:

Despite currently residing in California NWH, the aforementioned Christopher-Whose-Twenty-Fourth-Birthday-Is-Today is originally from New Orleans.  Today is also the twenty-fourth birthday of Anthony Davis, who works for the New Orleans Hornets (presumably some manner of sports team), where he is the Power Forward.

(We shall pause here for a brand new feature of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!, entitled “Gentle Readers Make-Your-Own Joke”.)

Your karmic balance may be stronger than your bank account balance —  (“May”?)

but it’s also more important, at least for the time being!  (Thank you, O Exclamation Point Of Shocking Revelation!)

You should find that things start to really pick up if you focus on good works.  (Hey, We just wished a happy birthday to six different people.  What the hell else do you want from Us?)

 Dreams have offered you some amazing insight on the questions you’ve been struggling over, but whether or not you utilize that insight is up to you.  (Oh, please.  If only Our head had a USB port.  Our dream last night was an epic story about Our Own life and friends, which also happened to be a cable television series set in the Great Depression Era.  We could be rich, We tells ya, RICH!)

You’re feeling a little bit paralyzed  (Buttcha ARE in that chair, Blanche!)

(How gay wuzZAT?)

and not ready to move ahead,  (Because We are PARALYZED.  AssHat.)

especially armed with nothing more than information created by your subconscious mind during the middle of the night.   (Fuck you.  Get HBO on the phone.)

That’s okay, though — do not move forward with anything unless you are completely convinced it’s the right thing to do. (Yeah.  ‘Cause THAT’S a formula for success.)

It’s okay to ignore your dreams.  (Sorry…did you say something?)

Drag a shy friend into a chat with someone you know they like. (How rude!  And why do they have to be in drag?)

Offer to babysit for a couple you know hasn’t been out in far too long. (Especially if they are random strangers.  And wear a priest’s collar, to inspire confidence.)

Smile at a stranger.  (Because strangers?  Have the best candy.)

It’s all boosting your romantic karma! (So essentially, it’s like a Karmic WonderBra™?)


(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.