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Tuesday, July 23, 2013

And we danced all night to the best song ever

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  TuesdayWeld’sChildHasFarrahFawcett’sFace(Didn’tSeeTHATComing,Didja?), July 23st ,2013.  This would be the second day in a row with no birthday wishes (yesterday’s wishes all being belated); that almost never happens.  Wherever shall We obtain cake?

Of course, yesterday WAS somebody’s birthday, Prince William’s penis having escaped its Speedo™ at some point and proved itself to be fully functional, but since said royal birthday personage does not even have a name yet, We are hard-pressed to know how to felicitate.

Speaking of bizarre things coming out of Great Britain and fully functional penises, We chanced across boy-band One Direction’s latest video yesterday.  It’s for a song called “Best Song Ever”, which, it would seem to Us, it would take really large balls to call a song.  And, while We certainly imagine all five of these boys to have fully functional penises, We don’t imagine those being accompanied by really large balls.  We are going to embed this masterpiece here for your viewing pleasure:

See if you can figger out why We found it personally remarkable.  (Please tell Us that We are not alone in the fact that, while We know vague things about them (one of them is called something like “Nyall”; one of their names starts with a Z), We know EXACTLY which one is Harry Styles.)

Meanwhile, to raise the cultural bar just a smidge, last night We had a dream that had Stephen Sondheim in it.  Because that’s just how klassie and kultchuhed We are.  We were, oddly, living in Our old apartment.  Upstairs, even more oddly, from The Sainted Mother, and La Sondheim had dropped by for (oddliest of all) tea, and to discuss his new musical.  About which We can remember, unfortunately, nothing.

And here is the HorrorScope:

It’s a British trifecta, folks…happy birthday, Daniel Radcliffe!  (Not only is it Daniel Radcliffe’s birthday, but he is, very obligingly, turning twenty-four.)

You’ve got to think ahead today (Oh, hell…and here We’ve wasted the whole morning so far thinking behind.)

— what can you do now that can save you time and energy later?  (Talk Harry Styles and Prince Harry into jumping out of Daniel Radcliffe’s birthday cake?)

Your ability to plan and scheme is enhanced,  (Well, that’s one word for it.)

so you may as well make the most of it!  (Maybe, instead of “Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!”, We should call it “Best Horoscope Ever”?)

  On certain days, you’re just plain old lucky,  (None of those days, however, has a “Y” in its name.)

no matter who you’re with, what you do or whether it’s a foolhardy move or not.  (Andy Foolhardy and The Foolhardy Boys…there’s a joke in there somewhere, but damned if We can dig it out.)

This is your day to be lucky. (How fortuitous.)

Now, this doesn’t mean you should take off for a day of skydiving or motorcycling at 120 mph down the freeway, but if you’ve been thinking about getting to know someone new, and you’re feeling a bit on the not-so-brave side about starting up a conversation, think about that good fortune and use it.  (That was a really long sentence.  Without much of a point.  Shut. Up. Kelli.)

You’ve got a fun idea, a startling vision, a nutty scheme — and even if it’s still abstract, it’s ten million times more interesting than anyone else’s boring stuff.   (We are going to take that to refer to Looking for Uranus: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour.  Because why the hell not?)

Share what you’ve got in mind.  (Patience, Glasshoppah….snatch this pebble from Our snatch…)

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.