Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherMadLibs™Monday, October 21th,
2013. Happy Birthday to Karen, who
turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves You (On Your)
Back. Also, Happy Birthday to Jason, who
also turns twenty-four today, Somewhere In New Jersey.
Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to
Richard, who turned twenty-four this past weekend, coincidentally in the same Somewhere
In New Jersey as Jason, although, according to SitOnMyFaceBook, they do not
know each other.
(SitOnMyFaceBook, as you probably know, was
broken this morning. We, of course,
thought “it was Us”, and wasted a good hour rebooting, etc. before We heard the
news (today, oh, boy) on Twatter. Which
is just as well, because last time something was broken and it WAS Us, We asked
YouPeople for help and not a single goddamn one of you so much as answered Us.)
Happy Belated Birthday also to Cynthia, who
turned twenty-four this past weekend in Liverpool. Which sounds pretty cool, until you realize it’s
not the John-Paul-George-and-Ringo-related one (today, oh, boy (and right away
We have a musical theme…are We good or what? (Who said, “Or what”?))), but the
one in Pennsyltucky. Which We didn’t
even know existed until this very minute.
Speaking of Pennsyltucky, Happy Belated Birthday also to Luke, who
turned twenty-four this past weekend in Erie.
(Parenthetical (hence the parentheses)
digression re: Erie: Number One, wouldn’t it be more fun if it were
(subjunctively) spelled “Eerie”? And
(B.), they have a canal there, yes? Which
always reminds Us of that old palindrome: “A man, a plan, a canal….anal sex!”)
Happy Belated Birthday also to The Lovely And
Talented Daniel, who turned twenty-four this past weekend in WeHo. And also too, Happy Belated Birthday to Kate,
who also too turned twenty-four this past weekend. In New York.
Not New York, New York. (The name
of the place is not “Not New York”. (But
then, you probably knew that.) It’s “Syracuse”. Which is kind of making Us want to do some
sort of really esoteric “j’accuse” joke.
Unfortunately, We don’t speak Frawnch.
Nor do We have a Jacuzzi™.)
Speaking of birthdays, We had a dream last night
that it was Our Own Personal birthday, which is odd, considering that We’ve had
quite enough birthdays as it is. In
honor of the occasion, they played one of Our Time of the Month Horoscope
videos on (We shit you not) Beavis and
Butthead. Then We had sex with a
robot. (Not a “Danger, Will Robinson!” kind of robot, but a mechanical
human. We’d tell you who it looked like,
but then We’d have to kill you.)
Meanwhile Picturing Peter’s Peter Week ended, much like
Picturing Allen And Kevin Naked Week before it, and We never were sexted a
winning penis pixture from Peter, Allen, OR Kevin. (Or from Peter Allen, but that is much less
surprising, as he is dead.) And there was
a serious prize at stake and everything….
YouPeople do understand that these e-pisstles
are meant to be interactive, don’t you?
We are a real, live person sitting here typing this, not some WorldWideInterWebNetzian
Random Hilarity Generator. You can leave
comments, you can answer questions when We ask them, you can share Us with your
friends and, if you send Us a pixture of your prick, We will not bleed.
Alas, poor Shakespeare…We knew him well. He is currently chortling in his grave over
Our “prick” pun. Or, to misquote the
Black Fairy from Sleeping Beauty, “You
will finger your prick and die!”
All of which is to say, if you are Allen,
Kevin, or Peter, We will still accept penis sexts, and you will still get the
promised prize. Hell, even if you’re NOT
Allen, Kevin, or Peter, We will still accept penis sexts, and you will still
get a prize. (But only if the penis in question
is yours…don’t go sending Us porno penises.
No Jeff Stryker. (Helpful
hint: if you don’t know who Jeff Stryker
is, DON’T Google him if you are at work.
(Hi, Dena!)))
If you do not happen to have a penis, or are
shy about sharing said penis, We shall also send a prize to the first person to
guess who the robot from the dream story earlier looked like.
In other news, it was recently theorized that all New
Yorker cartoons could
be captioned with “Christ, what an asshole” without compromising their comedic
value. It was subsequently discovered that this is true of virtually all
comics, old and new:
And
here is the HorrorScope:
Google, meanwhile, was insistent in informing
Us today that it was Celia Cruz’s birthday.
Celia Cruz, for those who are uninformed (as We were, until mere moments
ago) was The Queen Of Salsa. She was,
presumably, married to The King Of Tortilla Chips. Whatevs, Google.
You’re not moving as quickly as you would
like (That was Uncle Joe, he was movin’ kinda slow at the Junction…Petticoat
Junction, Junction, what’s your function?)
(Okay, that there? Was a musical mash-up. For old people.)
but there’s more to life than simple speed. (We KNOW.
We watched Breaking Bad.)
You may need to check in with your people for
some assistance if you get too far behind, though. (Yeah.
Our people. Assistance. We’ll just sit here and hold Our breath until
this text turns blue. Oh, wait…)
That person who’s been eyeing you from across
the room? (Is Arlene Francis. She’s about to say, “Are you in show
business?” To which We shall reply, “Honey,
if you have to ASK, apparently We’re not.”)
(That was another old people joke. Sorry, young people.)
(Maybe if you sent Us a dick pic from time to
time, We’d tell more young people jokes.)
Don’t you dare stare back, or even crack so
much as a grin if you’re not interested. (May We crack the gin? It’s ALMOST noon.)
You’re packing super- ultra- mega-sensual
energies now, (Oh, yeah. That’s EXACTLY
what We’re packing.)
and it’s no surprise (SURPRISE!!!)
others are picking up on them. (Who are these
“others” of whom you speak? And why have We no pictures of their privates?)
Save yourself the trouble, and save them the
heartache. (Also, save the whales. They’ll look good over the mantelpiece.)
Are you looking for a sign? (Yes. “Slippery
when wet”. Have you seen one?)
Instead of gazing at tea leaves or checking
in with a crystal ball, you need to visit coupled-up friends for a quick chat
about romance. (Yeah. ‘Cause “Third
Wheel” is always a fun role.)
Get some good advice on how to look for your
next love. (“Google Jeff Stryker…”)
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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