Hello, Ducks!
Starzina
Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for GoodPieRupeeTuesday,
June 25, 2013. Happy Birthday to
Forrest, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love
Handles. And who also, One would
imagine, cannot be seen for the trees.
Invisibility…nice trick if you can pull it off.
Naturally,
because We are We (and We We We all the way home), We are sitting here wondering
why the name Forrest has two Rs, while the forest with trees in it has only
one. And We can’t even Google it on
Wikipedia, because We can’t think of an intelligent way to phrase the
question. Also, We are afraid that
Google’s answer would be something along the lines of, “The world is going to
hell in a handbag, and THIS is what you’re worried about? Wanker.”
Happy
Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Cammy, and Chris, and Dusty, and Mark, and
OurAmericanCousin Sherry, each of whom turned twenty-four this past weekend,
some of them in faraway places with strange-sounding names, but none of them,
presumably, invisibly.
As
you can see, Our latest video, Starzina’s Time of the Month
Horoscope: CANCER 2013 is
above.
If you’ve been paying attention (oh,
relax; We know you haven’t), you will note that this is the fourth installment
in a (so far) four e-pissode story arc.
Because We’re a writer like that, and stuff.
We would like you to take this link to said
video http://youtu.be/e-EpBAfem_M and
email it to your friends. Or put it on
their SitOnMyFacebook pages. Or, if they
are having a Cancer birthday, wish them a happy birthday with it. Seriously, people…is this so difficult?
Meanwhile, in other news, shortly after We posted
yesterday’s episode, somewhere around noon, Our computer started doing an
automatic Windows update. (Are there
three more frightening words in the Engrish ranguage? (Well, perhaps McDonna’s anal bleaching.)) Naturally, We very shortly found Ourself
completely unable to compute (and computely unable to complete), without any
WorldWideInterWebNetz to Our name. The next eight hours (and no, We are NOT
exaggerating, as We’ve told you a million times) were spent in one of Our
favorite pastimes, which We like to call Amusing The Dotheads From Dell. We shall spare you the soul-sucking details,
but We were particularly enamored of the one who abandoned Us after the first
four hours to “consult with my supervisor and call you back in two or three
minutes”. When We called back twenty
minutes later, Indira Gandhi asked Us if We knew his name. Now, he had told Us his name at the
beginning, four hours prior, and it sounded like the noise you might make if
you had accidentally swallowed a spoiled raw shrimp that had been sitting on a
cowpie in the sun for a week.
(That there was a little werd pixture We painted just for
Our Gentle Readers. Because We’re poetical
like that.)
After his first mention of his name, however, he referred
to himself subsequently as “Victor”. “Oh,”
sez Indira, “that must be his alias.” Thereby blatantly admitting that not only
have these people stolen all of Our jobs, but they are sitting on their rotary
telephones in Oh Calcutta blatantly lying to Us.
But enough about that.
You don’t care about Our pain.
Plus, it just occurred to Us that, when We say “Indira Gandhi”, We are
actually picturing Golda Meir. In a sorry. And We’re not even sari about it.
And now the HorrorScopes:
Celebrity-wise, today is the birthday of both
Jimmie Walker and June Lockhart. And if
THAT isn’t a remake of Driving Miss Daisy
just crying out to be made, We don’t know what is.
In still other news, We are having birthday cake
for breakfast. Because We can.
You encounter a new idea or person this
morning that fills you with hope and excitement. (We sat on the phone in OurHouseWhereWeLive in
Our bathrobe for eight hours yesterday, and consumed nothing but iced
coffee. Two thunderstorms came and
went. At this point, opening Our front
door would fill Us with hope and excitement.)
It may relate to love, work, travel or almost
anything, (Way to narrow it the fuck down.
Asshat.)
but it definitely inspires you to make a
change. (We are wearing Our Tuesday
panties. Of course, We are ALWAYS
wearing Our Tuesday panties. That way,
We’re right once a week.)
When you are working in a group today, (Bite
your damn tongue.)
you should experiment with the idea of
holding back your thoughts. (Well, better your thoughts than your farts. If you hold back your farts, you could ‘splode.)
Let others figure it out and argue back and
forth, while you sit on the sidelines. (Or the landmines. (Have We (dare We say it?) a fart theme
developing? A fart motif, if you
will? (Or even if you won’t…what makes
you think it’s all about you?) A fart
motif being not unlike a leitmotif. Which,
of course, in the case of farts, is actually (wait for it) a
light-your-farts-motif.))
(Ah, potty humor. It’s my potty, and I’ll fart if I want to,
fart if I want to, fart if I want to…)
(Sari.)
(Micro$oft Weird™ has put a little green
squiggle under the third “fart” in the sentence before “Sari”, as it would like
to suggest that We change it to “and fart”.
Here a fart, there a fart, everywhere a fart-fart…)
Observe how they come to a not-so satisfying
solution — and then add your brilliant ideas to the mix. (A whole bunch of fart
jokes, and a pie fight. How could you go
wrong?)
Watching these people work together serves as
a cautionary tale: it’s a good lesson how not to collaborate. (“Co” being the
prefix that means “in conjunction with”, what the hell is “llaborate”?)
Your energy is going to be quiet all
day. (Silent butt deadly.)
You’re the one with the plan, (A man, a plan,
anal sex, Panama.)
(What does that even MEAN?)
and your love life is where it’s at. (Speaking
of invisibility…)
(See how We did that callback thingie to a
joke from all the way at the beginning?
But We are A Highly-Trained Professional…do not attempt this at home.)
What active steps should you take to hook up
with new folks? (Hire a hooker with a hookah?)
How should you expand your circle of social
connections? (Aren’t you supposed to be
ANSWERING Our questions, Kelli? What the
hell kind of Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) are you?)
In
gaseousness (Heh.),
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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