Baby, put your pom poms down for me

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  WinesDay, April Tenf, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Gary, who turns twenty-four today.  Also, Happy Birthday to Hanh, who, according to her SitOnMyFaceBook, turns EIGHTY-four today.  We don’t know about you, but, being the mature twenty-four-year-old that WE are, We don’t hold with all this “lying about One’s age” business.  For shame.

For shame, Foreshadowing, Florsheim™…nope; We got nothin’.

Meanwhile, nice weather We’re having, eh?  Although today is likely to be the last day of 80s for a while. (We are talking about the weather.  Could Our dearth of material be any plainer?  We are living in a no-material world, and We are a no-material old lady.)

This weekend, We shall once again be participating in murder for fun and profit.  Well, profit, at any rate.  Now that We have wrapped Our head around Our new station in life, We are willing to entertain the notion of being witnessed doing same. ( For all of all y’all who have been clamoring to see Us. ) We are apparently able to obtain discounted tickets.  Because We’re connected like that.  So We are seeing, for example, a Friday night Coven outing in the near future.

(Parenthetically (hence the parentheses), a science question:  do crickets clamor?  Or is cricketing the opposite of clamoring?  (Also, are cricket players hot?  Or is that just rugby players? (WHOA!  Cricket players: NOT HOT. Try this simple experiment:  Google “cricket players” on Wikipedia, then hit the Images tab.  Now do the same for “rugby players”.  Vive la difference, no?)))

Speaking of sweaty men in jockstraps, here is the link with which you will share Our new Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope:  Aries video with your friends, enemies, frenemies, enemists, and frenulums:

http://youtu.be/saxvaR85vYU

Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone in a tree, here is last year’s Aries video, featuring Our mother, Rosie Starfish, for comparison:

And now, in case you thought things couldn’t get any more boring, here is Kelli’s HorrorScope:

Happy Birthday, meanwhile, to actor Michael Pitt, for whom We have always had a soft spot in Our heart (and a damp spot in Our panties).

You can’t help but take action today (We know…We’re cooking dinner.  Remember the other day, when We made meatballs like an old Italian Nonna and stuck them in the freezer for just such an occasion?  Except who the hell wants spaghetti and meatballs when it’s eighty-four degrees outside?  All of which is to say, it’s too hot for Our balls.)

— it’s in your blood!  (It’s a good thing this Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) job doesn’t come with random drug testing.  “In Our blood”, indeed.)

You may find that people look twice when you walk in the room, (Was that a fat joke?)

as you carry yourself with conviction and practically cry out to be followed.  (Oh.  So you’re saying We’re desperate.)

Today will be all about feeding your brain, (We don’t know about you, but after that bit, Our mind went directly to Little Shop of Horrors.)

(Feed me, Seymour…feed me all night long…)

(Now Our mind has gone directly to Little Shop of Porno.  Starring Michael Pitt and Some Rugby Team.  ROWRRRR….)

and you should waste no time exploring topics and people you don’t know very well. (Is “exploring” really a verb that One applies to people?  We think not.  It sounds most intrusive.)

If a conversation drifts toward foreign ideas (Pâté de foie gras, iambic pentameter, the metric system?)

…or weird sports, (There’s nothing weird about rugby.  Scrum, scrum, scrum.)

try to keep up with it. (It’s like that old saying, “keeping up with the Jonas Brothers”.  (Which can’t, after all, be a very old saying, as We have just ascertained that the very oldest Jonas Brother is only twenty-five.  (While We are ashamed to admit that We know the names of the three Jonas Brothers, and can differentiate them in pictures, We still cannot name a single Jonas Brothers song.  (Although We occasionally picture them playing rugby with Michael Pitt.)))

(That?  Is called a throughline.  Because We?  Are a Highly-Trained Professional.  Do NOT attempt this at home.)

Even if you’re not exactly sure what everyone else is talking about  (“Even if”?  Since when do We ever know what anyone is talking about?)

you still can offer some input  (Well, DUH!  Not knowing anything has certainly never prevented Us from talking before.)

— even if it’s just to say that you need them to explain things to you!  (Not to be too obscure, but We would like to put Sister Mary Ignatius joke in here.  Because, amongst other things, We suspect that Christopher Durang would appreciate being invited to “play rugby” with Michael Pitt and the Jonas brothers.)

The brain is a muscle, (The heart is a lonely hunter,  the penis is between Us, and freedom’s just another word for nothing left but shoes….what’s your point?)

and yours is capable of getting a body-builder’s physique.  (You betcha!  We’ve been mentally “playing rugby” this whole time.)

It’s time to snazz up your old dating profile. (Did Kelli actually just say “snazz”?  Seriously?)

Your creative energy is in full bloom for now, (Can We move it to Orlando Bloom?  (How many guys are on a rugby team, anyway?))

so dig in and show the hotties what you’ve got going on. (That may be the first thing you’ve said that’s made sense, Kelli.  Possibly ever.)

Don’t skimp on the self-promotion (Also, don’t skimp on the skrimps.)

— it can make a difference.  (What a difference Sade makes…)

(Sorry.)

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

(Your Your-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com)

(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.