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Thursday, September 26, 2013

Come and listen to a story about a man named Jed






Hello, Ducks!






Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for ThurstonHowellTheThirdsThirdThristyThursday, September 26nd, 2013.




Happy Birthday to Andrew, who turns twenty-four today, right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.  Happy Birthday also to Scott, who also turns twenty-four today, also right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.   Also too also, Happy Birthday to Noah, who also too also turns twenty-four today. In Wilmington.  Dela-Where. (We say that, of course, to distinguish it from Wilmington.  North Carolina.  And swimming pools.  Movie stars.)



Lest you imagine that We’re finally going to shut up about the Fringe, there is now an article flying about the WorldWideInterWebNetz that purports to identify “The best of the 2013 Philly Fringe”.  We shan’t dignify it by linking to it.  It is written, interestingly, by the critic who had press passes for the WaitStaff’s show the night We did box office for them, and didn’t show up to review the show, i.e., DO HIS JOB. (If you’ve ever been made redundant from a job you were ACTUALLY DOING, you will understand how much this pisses Us off.)




In his first paragraph, this paragon of journalistic integrity admits that it is impossible to discern the best of the Fringe, because no one person can see the whole thing. He then turns loose a bunch of his friends, all of whom, as near as We can tell, were actual participants in the 2013 Fringe, to inform the rest of Us ignorant great unwashed as to what best bestestes that ever bested We were such Philistines as to have missed.




Oddly enough, everything “best” that happened in the 2013 Fringe apparently happened in either the only six shows these cognoscenti deigned to see, or else in shows in which they actually participated.



It is thus made clear that the rest of Us should just never even bother getting out of bed in the morning.




Puke.




In more cheerful WorldWideInterWebNetzian meme news, there is a video going around that demonstrates that showing gratitude makes people happy.  (We WOULD link to this one, but We can’t seem to unearth it at the moment.)  We Our Own Self Personally would be extremely grateful if the narrator of said video would drop by OurHouseWhereWeLive, wearing nothing but his white lab coat, and make Us Very Happy.  KThxBye.




In still other news, We have an email from the Theatre Alliance telling Us that “A Clown Teacher Needs Housing”.  Why wouldn’t he just stay in his car?





And here is the HorrorScope:




Speaking of swimming pools, movie stars, Donna Douglass (Ellie Mae Clampett) is eighty today.  Put THAT in your Daisy Dukes and smoke it.  (Speaking of Daisy Duke, she (Catherine Bach) is currently on The Young and the Rest of Us, and looks like crap. )




You need to clarify a few things in your own mind before you can feel comfortable speaking out.  (Have you met Us?  We are an Aries; speak out now, clarify butter.)




It’s a good time to think through the issues and see what’s most important to you.  (Oddly, that doesn’t sound like a good time to Us.)
 


 Keeping things on a lighter note now paves the way to smooth communication. (Does smooth communication require a smooth operator?  Inquiring minds want to know…)




(Kiss Us quick, We’re Sade.)




 Of course, if you want to address some heavy stuff, that’s your prerogative. (Was that a fat joke?)




Before you get into it, though, make sure you have what you want to say crystal-clear in your head (This is a job for Crystal Meth!)




— thinking it through one extra time wouldn’t hurt. (Then it wouldn’t really be “extra” now, would it?)





And while you think your position is the only viable one, (Which, of course, it IS.)




don’t be surprised (SURPRISE!!!)




if you get an argument about it.  (No, you didn’t.)





Impressing people isn’t easy, (It is, however, easier than getting them to show up so you have the opportunity of impressing them.)




 but today you’ve got at least a few people hanging on your every word.  (Are they well hung?)




Your insights inspire those who need it, (Don’t they, though?)




which makes you one hot property!  (Mmm-hmm.)


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!)

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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.