Hello, Ducks!
Starzina
Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay, May Twenty-Twoth,
Twenty-Thirteen. (“Twenty” is suddenly
striking Us as an odd word. It seems to
want to be an adjective. It is unclear
what it would mean. “Move your twenty
ass before We set it on fire.” “She kicked him right in his twenty balls.” Hmmm… is puzzlement.)
It
is not easy being Us.
Happy
Birthday, meanwhile, to The Lovely And Talented AstroGeek, who turns
twenty-four today somewhere in Oh Hai Ohio.
Also Happy Birthday to Jeremy, who also turns twenty-four today, albeit
in WeHo. (Should We call it “Oh Hai WeHo”? (Do We know anybody having a birthday in Oh
Hai Iowa? Eventually, We will have the
lyric to some bizarre novelty song. (Wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh Wimoweh, wimoweh,
wimoweh, wimoweh Wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh Wimoweh,
wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh In the jungle, the mighty jungle The
lion sleeps tonight In the jungle, the quiet jungle The lion
sleeps tonight….)))
(Sorry.)
Also also, Happy Birthday to Bill, who also also turns twenty-four today, en route, sources tell Us, to Italy. Whence come the Eye-talians. Also also also lhasa apso, Happy Birthday to Steve, who also also also lhasa apso turns twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back. Whence come plenty of other Eye-talians.
We
are in a foul humor this morning. As
opposed, presumably, to a fowl humor, which would be the bodily fluid of a chicken
or some such. Which, being seldom
exposed to actual live chickens, One might assume (thereby shoving Hume Cronyn
up Uma Thurman’s ass) to be not unlike chicken soup. Which, come to think of it, the humidity is
making the atmosphere seem not unlike, so perhaps We ARE in a fowl humor as
well. Given The Universe’s propensity
for expecting Us to turn chicken shit into chicken salad, that would be oddly fitting.
You
will recall that, yesterday, We were up at the crack of ass in nervous
anticipation of Our pending Meatball Eating Meeting (there is just no way to
say that without it sounding dirty, is there?).
It did not go well. Oh, Our
meatballs were both meaty and ball-like, and Our gravy was both grave and
sauce-like, but, as usual, The Universe intended to fuck with Us. To wit, if A Good Thing happens for Our Meatball
Eating Meeting partner (gawd, that sounds filthy!), We cannot get what We want. And trust Us, Our Meatball Eating Meeting
partner (SMUT!!!) is someone for whom Good Things Happen. Unlike, say, Our Own Self.
So,
having already gone to bed In A Mood, imagine Our euphoria to arise this
morning and find Ourself in a copyright dispute with YouTube over background
music on Our latest Time of the Month
Horoscope video.
There
are times when We think that the only reason We don’t just end it all is Our refusal
to give so many people the satisfaction.
(This, in case you were wondering, is one of those times.)
So
if any of all y’all have any CHEERFUL news that you’ve been waiting to surprise
Us with, now would be a good time.
Chirping
crickets are not cheerful.
And now the HorrorScopes:
Speaking of things that’ll cheer ya right up,
today is Morrissey’s birthday.
You need to really listen today (Sorry…did
you say something?)
— otherwise, a relationship could turn sour
for a good long while. (Could it turn whiskey sour?)
Someone needs to know that you care, (Once
you can fake sincerity, you’ve got it made.)
even if you can’t do anything to fix what’s
wrong. (The fact that We can never fix
what is wrong is one of the things that’s wrong. (How do you KNOW it’s an endless loop….endless
loop…endless loop..?))
You are correct to think that today is a
great day to get a new project started, (Weill, let’s see…once the Meatball Eating Partnership
goes belly up (WOW, the porn just keeps on coming! (Heh…We said “coming”)), and We are thrown
off of YouTube, what exactly would this “new project” be?)
but try to pace yourself. (Why don’t We just
open up Our chest and put a pacemaker where Our heart used to be?)
Don’t run right out and try to tackle
everything all at once. (You’re
picturing Us in a football costume now,
aren’t you? Cheeky monkeys.)
You’ll only end up tired at the end of the
day, (Honey, We were tired at the BEGINNING of the day.)
without much to show for it. (How does “nothing”
grab ya?)
Instead, take time up front to do some
research and planning. (Because THAT won’t be at all futile, oh, no it won’t.)
There is plenty of time to do what you want
to do, (Of course, the fact that there’s plenty of time for it doesn’t mean We’ll
actually get to DO it, but presumably, We should be thankful for, oh, We don’t
know, NOTHING.)
and if you take things at a leisurely pace
you will enjoy the entire process a whole lot more. (Now We are changing out of the football
costume and into a leisure suit. The
lengths to which We will go to amuse YouPeople…)
Be confident in who you are and what your
life is. (A teeming cesspool of ennui?)
You may not have chosen the path that most
people have, but that’s because you are most definitely not like most people. (This
is not making Us feel any better.)
That goes double when it comes to romance. (See, for SOME people, that sentence would
mean they get to do it with twins. Not,
naturally, for Us, but for SOME people.)
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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