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Thursday, April 25, 2013

My dick in a box

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  ThurstonHowellTheThirdsDay, April 25, 2013.  Only eight more shopping months till Christmas.  Happy Birthday to Our Manhattanese Sistah, Asphyxia-8, who turns twenty-four today in Manhattanesia.  Also, Happy Anzac Day to all of Our Gentle Readers Down Undah in Australia and New Zealand. Anzac Day is, of course, nowhere near as much fun as Administrative Profanity Day, but fuck it.

Alternatively, butt fuck it.  Now THERE’S some administrative profanity.

So for the third evening in a row, We walked Our extra large ass all the way to Center City.  Monday, you will recall, We walked all the way to Drexel.  Tuesday, We walked all the way to dinner.  (How it is that Our ass is still so fat that it eclipses the sun is beyond Us. (Micro$oft Weird™ is suggesting that We change “Our ass is so fat” to “Our ass is so fast”.   Clearly, Micro$oft Weird™ has not seen Our ass move recently.  (We feel the earth. Move. Under Our ass. We feel the sky, tumbling down, tumbling down.  (Kiss Us quick, We’re Carole Simon Carly King.))))

Sorry…We’ve digressed.

At any rate, last night we walked Ourself all the way to Center City yet again to earn stars on Our crown in Heaven by seeing one of Our young colleagues’ cabaret.  We were anticipating, of course, That Cabaret That We’ve All Seen And Loathed, in which earnest young theatre students screech at the outer limits of the human vocal spectrum before finally busting out some Sondheim song cut from the third act of an unproduced musical in a key that only dogs can hear.  This cabaret generally features Some Soprano With An Unfortunate Glandular Condition who sings Glitter and Be Gay, That Song From Cats, and I’m Anne Hathaway, Give Me My Oscar™ Now from No Less Miserable.  She is aided and abetted by The Gay Boy Who Made All The Costumes, A Comic Alto Whose Solos Are All Alternately Sharp Or Flat But Who Can Sing Any Harmony, and Some Hot Guy Who Can’t Really Sing But Is There Because Everyone Wants In His Pants.

This was NOT That Cabaret.

Our first clue that We would not be suffering was when We learned that the director was someone We have known for years, who has directed Us Our Own Self Personally, and who certainly would never permit any of the aforementioned crimes against taste and decency.  You cannot imagine what a wonderful time We had, how many (many, many) times We laughed out loud, and how We wish We could figger out how to get this show seen by a whole lot more people in a much better venue.

At any rate, We are SitOnMyFaceBook-stalking the responsible parties, and will keep an eye peeled (eeeeuuuuwwww!!!) for their future endeavors.

On a related note, speaking of Anne Hathaway and No Less Miserable, please go here for Our review of same: 

Speaking of “on Tuesday there was a naked guy from Minnesota where Mary Tyler Moore threw up her hat, on Wednesday there was a G-stringed stripper from Jersey, meanwhile, did We mention the guitar player?”, as you can see above, We have released Our new Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope:  Taurus video, and We could not wait to Cher.  Here is the link with which you will share it 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 Taurus video for comparison:

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

 In other news, it is Ella Fitzgerald’s birthday.  Insert your favorite scat joke here.

Just pay attention to what people are saying today  (Sorry…did you say something?)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

(Oh, please.  Helen Keller saw what We did there.  She signed it to Ray Charles, and he sang a song about it to Marlee Matlin.)

(Our political correctnesses…let Us show them to you.)

— don’t try to read too much into their plain words. (We are endeavoring now to imagine what UNplain words are.  Phantasmagoria… onomatopoeia…Madagascar…)

It’s a good day for compromise, (No it isn’t.)

even if nobody seems willing to make the first step.  (It’s just a jump to the left…)

The universe is amplifying your charm level right now (Always after Our fucking charms…they’re spastically meretricious.)

(Is that goddamn leprechaun in here AGAIN?  Ella Fitzgerald is gonna be PISSED.  (POOPED?))

(We told you to insert a scat joke.  YouPeople never listen.)

— and many people are intrigued by what you have to offer!  (There is no doubt a line forming around the block.)

This doesn’t necessarily apply to your romantic life, (Well, of course not.  We might ENJOY that.)

it might mean that you’re getting more positive attention at work or at school. (Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…)

Enjoy what you’ve got going on in your life right now. (And what exactly would that be?)

 If you’re with someone, do something low-key and relaxing.  (In keeping with Our running theme, this would be the opposite of Glittering And Being Gay.)

If you’re solo, celebrate how wonderful it is to have so many options and journeys still ahead of you.  (Wow.  Is it just Us, or was that sentence the equivalent of referring to The Fat Girl by saying, “But she has such a pretty face”?)

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:  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.