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Friday, April 19, 2013

If he says the whore can do…can do, can do



Hello, Ducks!



Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  FriedEgg, April 19st, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Sara, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in Fran SanCisco.  Where they make Rice-A-Roni™, the Fran SanCisco treat. 



We, of course, have never forgiven the Rice-A-Roni™ people for stopping the inclusion of nuts in their “fried rice” variety.  Those of you who are not yet twenty-four may not remember this, but, Back In The Day (whatever the fuck THAT means), Rice-A-Roni™ “fried rice” included a little packet of slivered almonds, the addition of which made it just about the best damn junk food/hangover cure going.




Said nuts were eliminated sometime within the past decade or so (We would research this for accuracy, but seriously?  Look up your own damn nuts.), We suspect not so much as a cost-containment move as a response to the ever-increasing number of chirren with nut allergies.  To which We say, the hell?  Where did all these chirren with nut allergies come from all of a sudden?  Back when We were a chirren (please pause here and try to imagine THAT), We didn’t have all these chirren running around with nut allergies.  We all ate peanut butter all the time, and, presumably, the ones with nut allergies died.  Although We don’t recall going to a lot of nut allergy-related funerals as a chirren, either.  Maybe they lied to Us, and said those chirren moved away. You would think We would have found it odd that the chirren moved away, and yet their families still lived there, but chirren can be very self-absorbed.




This is, one would assume (thereby shoving Uma Thurman up Hume Cronyn’s ass), why most humans are incapable of licking their own nuts.




But where were We?  Oh, yes…birthday wishes.  Happy Birthday also to Jasmine, who also turns twenty-four today, and who has a rice named after her, but We shall not digress again.  Also also, Happy Birthday to Beck, who also also turns twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back, and also too also, Happy Birthday to Tim, who also too also turns twenty-four today in The BackYard Of The City That Loves You  (On Your) Back.  (That’s Our new way of saying “Suburbia”.  Aren’t We adorable?  (Don’t answer that.))




Meanwhile, on the subject of birthdays:

 "There's nothing better than cake, but more cake." 
-Harry S. Truman




We just thought We’d leave that birthday quote in there another day, since We had so many birthdays.




In other news, of interest to at least one of Our Gentle Readers (hi, Petr!) We do not watch American Idol.  And We do not say that as some sort of television snob (we DO, after all, watch Glee.  And Survivor.), but just as a statement of fact.  However, last night, We chanced to tune in to the last five minutes, after they had eliminated some hapless female contestant, and declined to save her with The Golden Ticket Of Veto or whatever the hell it is, and to the American Idol judges, We just have to say, really? It took you a whole hour, plus however many weeks preceding last night’s show, to get rid of this simple bitch, when Jaye P. Morgan of The Gong Show would have gonged her ass the instant she appeared onstage just for the monstrosity she was wearing?  Jeebus.




Is anyone still chuckling over the “lick their own nuts” joke?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.




Moving on, from The Doing What We Do Best Department, We are going to complain for a moment. (Why Complaining is not an Olympic event, We’ll never know.  We could be the Michael Phelps of Complaining. (We could also make a damn fine showing at Being Michael Phelps’s Speedo™, but that’s a whole ‘nother (dare We say, Special) Olympics.))




But We’ve digressed.  Complaining, here We go.  We were looking forward to two things this week.  (We will be scrupulously fair, and not even count going out for a nice dinner on Our birthday, from which We were prevented by Our 24-hour gastric ailment, because We did not have a concrete plan in place for that one.)  TWO THINGS, and We didn’t get either one of them.  Oh, and, one of them, We haven’t even been told We’re not getting, but We’re not getting it.




So is the answer to look forward to more things, thereby increasing Our chances of getting at least one of them, or is the answer to look forward to nothing, since We’re not getting anything anyway?




It’s a “glass half empty/glass half full” kind of question.  We would drink straight from the bottle, but We have to work tonight.





Speaking of licking your own nuts, here is the link with which you will share Our Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope:  Aries video with your friends, enemies, frenemies, enemists, and frenulums:




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, Rosy Starfish, for comparison:




And now (changing, for some artifactual reason, to birthday-cake-icing-baby-blue), here are the HorrorScopes:




Okay, wait…it is James Franco’s birthday, AND Hayden Christensen’s birthday, AND Tim Curry’s birthday, and We can’t even get a muthafuggin’ piece of cake up in this jawn?  We are pretty sure We have answered Our Own “looking forward to things” question.




(Did We just say “jawn”?  Are We speaking in tongues?)




(Also, Tim Curry is not the Tim to whom we wished a Happy Birthday earlier.  We are not quite THAT senile.  Yet.)




You need to move beyond your typical surroundings — so get out there and explore!  (Kiss Us quick, We are Dora The Ex-Whore Explorer From Bangalore.  (Now THERE’S a Saturday morning cartoon that people would actually WATCH.  Something for everyone, it has.))





It’s a good time to see if your friends or allies are willing to take a trip with you, (Oh, please.  We can’t even get them to tell Us they’re NOT willing to take a trip with Us.)




or at least offer smart tips.  (Does telling Us where to go count as a “smart tip”?)





 You have much more creativity than you think you do — especially today, when the universe is sending you a bright can-do attitude.  (There is a joke bubbling up in Our joke-u-bator about “tae can do”.  Unfortunately, it’s not a very funny joke.  Kill Our darlings, We do here.)





Good thing, too, because you will be thrust (OOOOOOOOOOHHH!!!!)






into a situation that forces you to think on your feet and come up with some quick answers.  (Forty-two!  The Louisiana Purchase!  Manifest Destiny!  William Faulkner: stream of consciousness!)




(How’d We do?)




Have no fear and you will have lots of fun. (What if We’re afraid of fun?  You didn’t think of THAT, didja?)





It’s time to stop worrying about what is right or wrong and just do what feels right. (Well, hell’s bells, Kelli…We could have stopped this nonsense all the way back at Being Michael Phelps’s Speedo™.)





Forget about breaking the rules  (Forget about what?)




(Heh. SWWDT?)




— make your own new ones. (Can they involve nut-licking?)




(Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t.)




(It’s like that old Tina Turner song:  “Nut-Lick City Limits”.)




 Beware of weird energy during the daylight hours — your moods may just give you some odd romantic impulses.  (“Odd” is in the eye of the beholder, AssHat.)




By later tonight, though, some hot stuff and sweet moves are yours if you want them. (Oh, please.  Later tonight, We shall be slinging drinks and bussing tables.  And, while We would love it if Hot Stuff made some Sweet Moves, We suspect it ain’t gonna happen.)



In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne




(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.