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Friday, October 18, 2013

We’re just two little girls from Little Rock

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for FriedEgg, October 18rd, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Ami, who turns twenty-four today. In Little Rock. ARKANSAS, people.  Which gives her the distinction of being the only person We’ve ever known (and, by “known”, We mean “in the WorldWideInterWebNetzian sense”, rather than “in the ever having actually meant sense” or “in the biblical sense”) from Arkansas.

Having recently been to Kansas for the first time, We started Googling about on Wikipedia to see if We could discover the etymological relationship between the words “Kansas” and “Arkansas”, and where the pronunciation of the latter had diverged from the fun pirate pronunciation (“Arrrrr! Kansas!”) to the current incarnation.  Unfortunately, early on in Our meanderings, We discovered that there is such a thing as “Arkansas City, Kansas”, and We were forced to cease and desist immediately, having never quite recovered from allegedly friendly natives’ efforts to explain to Us how Kansas City is only partially in Kansas, but the other part is in Missouri.

Geography is hard.


Speaking of hard, Picturing Peter’s Peter Week is drawing to a close, and We have yet to receive a winning penis pixture from Peter, Allen, OR Kevin.  (Or from Peter Allen, but that is much less surprising, as he is dead.)  There is a serious prize at stake here, gentlemen…hop to it!

Meanwhile, from The Ask For What You Want; Who Knows…You Might Get It Department, We are thisclose to announcing a live public appearance date in the city for November.  And, at that very same time, We shall divulge details of Our November appearance in suburbia.

Perhaps by the time these announcements are to be made, We shall have been invited to appear in Arkansas City, Missouri.  Which is probably in Canada.

Sorry…We just paused there for a second to Picture Peter’s Peter in the same room with the other two gentlemen, whom We have in fact seen naked.  As One does.

And here is the HorrorScope:

As if it were (subjunctively) not joyous enough that it is Friday, and the sun is shining…it is Zac Efron’s birthday.  Rejoice and be glad.

Your explorations are the stuff of legend, (Oh, please.  Arkansas City, Kansas made Us have to go lie down.)

and today you need to make sure that your legend is heard far and wide.  (Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd…he skinned a whale and undressed a cod…)


You may find that your people are more than willing to follow your lead.  (Well, if Our lead is Zac Efron, DUH.)

Okay, so there’s only one more night left for you to spend celebrating. (Indeed.  Picturing Peter’s Peter Week is coming (heh) sadly to a close.  As did Picturing Allen And Kevin Naked Week before it.  Whom should We picture naked next week?  Weigh in with your suggestions…the winning suggestion will receive a prize.)

(The SAME prize, in fact, that Peter, Allen, or Kevin could receive for one pee-pee Polaroid™.  Just sayin’.)

Does that mean you won’t be able to relax and enjoy it? (Well, it’s been quite a while, but I’m sure We’ll figger it out.)

 Oh, sure…like you’ve ever had a problem letting go before, no matter where you were or who you were with. (We have no idea what that means.  Perhaps if We all put Our thumbs on Uranus, We’ll know exactly where We are.)

(Everything’s up-to-date in Arkansas City…they’ve gone about as fer as they can go…)


 But speaking of problems, your worst one now will be deciding which wonderful invitation to accept — poor, poor you!  (Shouldn’t that be “poor, poor pitiful you”?  (Also, kiss Us quick, We’re Linda Ronstadt.))

Put that calendar away and do something totally unpredictable!  (Sit and spin on a sundial.)

(Didn’t see THAT coming, didja?)

Don’t think too hard about that date or worry too much about what to say to your crush. (Is he orange?)

(Give it a minute….THERE ya go!)

Treat life like an improv theater act. (All things considered, We’d rather not.  Improv generally sucking the shit out of dead rats, as it does.)

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.