Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for FriedEgg, October 25rd , 2013. Happy Birthday to TJ, who may or may not turn
twenty-four today. In New York. New York, New York. The city so nice, they made fried rice. (We have no idea what that means.) Happy Birthday also to Blaine, who DOES turn
twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back. With or without fried rice, but with six, you
get egg roll. (We have no idea what that
means either.)
Damn, now We’re hungry for Chinese food.
And We’ll probably be hungry again in half an hour.
That’s not racist; it’s just that We’re
pretty sure We’re not getting any food, Chinese or otherwise, in the next half
hour.
(Is it just Us, or does “Chinese or otherwise”
sound like the beginnings of some manner of ethnic slur?)
Changing ethnicities for the moment, The Little Show That Could, LOOKING
FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour , will
be returning for one night only on Sunday, November 10 at 7:30 at L’Etage. Get your tickets here: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/499391 . Dammit.
Meanwhile, for Our
newly-turned-twenty-four-year-olds above, and the rest of you twenty-four-year-old
gentlemen out there, here are Seven Things Every Man Must Do Before He Turns
Thirty-Five (sexism NOT Ours, ladies):
Speaking of Chinamen, it’s been a while since
We gave a shout-out/hello to Lex in China.
Lex in China is a self-professed naked skimmer of these e-pisstles, not
to be confused with the opera, Nixon in
China. Unlike many of Our other
naked skimmers, We have seen this particular one naked. We can tell you that, because he will no
doubt nakedly skim right past it. Also,
he’s in China, so he’ll just be naked again in half an hour. Of course, if your name is Lex, and you’re
naked in China, there’s a whole Gulliver-amongst-the-Lilliputians thing going
on, but We’ll bypass that for now.
(What are the odds of Our getting a sext from
Lex?)
Speaking of birthday suits and nakediddity, We
are currently having a total crap day, because (A.) it’s fucking freezing and (2.) people seem to be
doing their level best to make every damn thing more difficult, so We’re just
going to re-run yesterday’s “birthday suits and nakediddity” story.
(We mistyped “fucking” as “fuckign” in the
preceding. As suggested replacements,
Micro$oft Weird™ offered “bucking”, “ducking”, “tucking”, “lucking”, and “mucking”. First of all, thanks a lot, Micro$oft Weird™. Seconal, is “lucking” even a word? And
Thurber, where the motherfucking fuckety-fuck was “sucking”?)
{Insert WayBackMachine sound effects here}
Speaking of birthday suits and nakediddity,
Gentle Readers (who are not naked skimmers (and who have not had a stroke since
yesterday)) will recall, um, yesterday,
when, in the wake of the end of “Picturing Allen And Kevin Naked Week” and
“Picturing Peter’s Peter Week”, We forged boldly forward where no
ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulist) has gone before by declaring it A New
Week. You can relive the excitement in
all its glory here: http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/10/jimmy-craps-corn-and-i-dont-care.html or just enjoy the Reader’s Digest highlights that follow:
But back to the matter at hand, Ducks (which
is different than the hatter Armand (which is, yet again, different from the
Mad Hatter Armand Hammer (remember when Armand Hammer made baking soda? Now his great-grandson Armie Hammer…well,
Looks Like That. Hi-yo, Silver, et
cetera.)))…none of these parentheses is getting Us any closer to the matter at
hand, is they, Ducks? Let’s start over…
Armie Hammer naked…
Let’s start over again…
Having already dragged Allen, Kevin, and
Peter into this again by neck and crop (and have We mentioned recently that
We’ve actually SEEN the “crops” on
two out of three of ‘em in Real Life?
Sigh…), We must mention that We had absolutely no responses to
yesterday’s request for Whom Should We Picture Naked THIS Week? Consequently,
We have taken matters into Our Own hands (along with Mad Hatter Armand Hammer’s
great-Grandson Armie Hammer), and decided, for reasons entirely Our Own to
declare it “What’s In Those Jeggings™? Week”, starring OurThreeSons from the
murder mystery.
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WayBackMachine sound effects here}
And
here is the HorrorScope:
In
celebrity birthdays today, We have Katy Perry and Helen Reddy. In honor of the
occasion, We went and listened to Ms. Perry’s latest, “Roar”, for the first
time. Is it just Us, or is this the
exact same song as “Firework”?
Whatever
you may think of Ms. Reddy’s oeuvre, “Delta
Dawn” and “I Am Woman” are NOT the same song. Just sayin’.
Family
needs are dominant today, so focus what you’ve got on kids, your partner or the
old folks back home. (Oh, and be sure call
them “the old folks back home “. To
their faces. They love that. Trust Us.)
Whatever
you do, expect to get rewarded sevenfold in the medium-term future. (“Sevenfold”?
“Medium-term”? What the hell
language are you speaking now, AssHatt?)
Recent
family problems are finally getting solved today, and the good news is that
very soon they will all be gone. (Oh,
yeah. There’ll be no more family
problems at all, once you’ve called ‘em “the old folks back home” a couple of
times.)
And
when they are, remember to leave them behind — bygones should be left as
bygones. (Does anybody else want “bygones” to rhyme with “cojones”? Just Us?
Alrighty, then.)
Do
not try to get back into a touchy conversation with someone right when they are
finally calm again. (Indeed not. Because those “the old folks back home” might
just fly right off the handle.)
(We
got interrupted, and totally forgot that We were supposed to be telling
Chinaman jokes. Sigh.)
(Does
this mean that Lex won’t sext Us now?)
You
want a new gadget — and you want it now! (Also, a new Gidget. But only if We can play in Moondoggie’s
Speedo™.)
One
of the great things about being single is that you don’t have to ask
permission. (So there’s more than one
great thing?)
Indulge
in some retail therapy and really enjoy your purchase. (Wow. Did that come out of reft field or what?)
You
deserve it! (Oh, don’t even get Us
started…)
Namaste, MotherFuckers.
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://sett.com/astrogeek895/. 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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