Hello, Ducks!
Starzina
Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay, May 1th, 2013. Happy Hump Day, Happy May Day, and Happy
Beltane. We just now heard of that last
one…whatever bloats your goat.
We
have a totally tedious day ahead. We are
doing a focus group which does not start until 8 o’clock. And We cannot for the life of Us remember
what We are supposed to be focused on.
But We’re pretty sure it’s boring.
Although there are probably plenty of hookers who aren’t making what
We’re going to be paid for Our time.
And, prostitution not being a career option for Us (as We are not even
able to give it away), selling Our opinion would seem to be the next best
thing. Lord knows, We have an unlimited
supply of them. Unlike, say,
doilies. Which We would have to
tat. Which would entail learning to
tat. Which, presumably, would require
tatting lessons. Hopefully from a master
tatter. Tat, tat, tat…tat, tat, tat…tat
your doily, tat your doily…
There. Having read that paragraph, you should now be
approximately as bored as We will be at 8 o’clock this evening. Our work here is done. (You DID realize that “Tat, tat, tat…tat,
tat, tat…tat your doily, tat your doily…” was meant to be sung to the tune of “Shake Your Booty”, didn’t you?
Because, if you didn’t, We can wait here while you go back…)
Speaking
of prostitution, booty shaking, and the like, it has just come (heh) to Our
attention that May is National Masturbation Month. So ponder on THAT as you gambol about the May
pole.
Not
only do We have this ridiculous evening focus group scheduled, We are also up
at the veritable crack of ass this morning (as you may note from the early
arrival of this e-pisstle (unless We get distracted by bright shiny InterNetz
(We have already worked about half of a cryptic crossword puzzle))). Sigh.
It ain’t easy being Us.
Attention,
SitOnOurFaceBook friends: We? Do not play Farmville. Are you fucking retarded? How many fucking requests to shove a fucking
rutabaga up your fucking stupid assholes do We fucking have to ignore before
you fucking GET that We? Do. Not. Play.
Farmville. Jeebus.
Well. We feel much better now. We love the smell of fucking rutabaga
assfuckers in the morning. (That there is a fillum quote. From Asspocalypse
Now.)
Speaking
of people with tuberous vegetables in their rectum (rectum? We nearly
KILLED ‘em! (Why is this new paragraph making Us think of Michael
Douglas and Matt Damon in that new Liberace movie?)), as you can see above, We
have released Our new Starzina’s Time of the
Month Horoscope: Taurus video. 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:
Sweetie DARLINGS! It is Joanna Lumley’s birthday! Stoli, Sweetie Darlings!
You’ve got some concerns about how other
people see you (Especially blind people.)
— and they may not be entirely without merit!
(They are probably, however, entirely
without merit BADGES, as We cannot imagine that they are Boy Scouts.)
Don’t get paranoid, though. (It is not
paranoia if they really ARE all out to get you.)
You just need to tweak your public persona a
bit. (Alternatively, twerk your pubic persona.
Au gratin.)
Someone who claims to be an expert in
something actually doesn’t know what the heck they are talking about. (Do amateur prostitutes not get paid?)
(Oh, and Kelli? “Heck”?
Seriously? Who SAYS that?)
But is it up to you to set them straight? (Honey, if WE are in charge of straightening
things, there’re gonna be issues.)
Not if it could make you look bad. (Wait…We
could look WORSE?!?)
Your reputation should be your top concern
today, which means that you might need to do things you would not normally do,
or avoid doing things you think you should do. (Wow…so glad you cleared THAT
right up.)
So just let all of the chips fall where they
may, (Mmmmmm….chips.)
and avoid getting your hands dirty in the
process. (That would seem to depend on
where these free-falling chips actually fell, no?)
You wanna be startin’ something? (Yes.
We “wanna” be quoting a thirty-year-old song lyric as though that
somehow makes Us hep to the jive.
AssHat.)
The stars say it’s a great time to get
romantic ventures off the ground. (We’ll take Paul Lynde to block.)
Early on, focus (Please don’t say “focus”.)
on one potential cutie. (Is it just Us, or is
it impossible to see the word “cutie” without thinking “patootie”?)
Later in the evening your attentions are
better off in a large group. (Well, We
may be in a large group, but We can’t promise We’ll be paying attention.)
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!)
*****************************************************************************
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.
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