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Thursday, November 14, 2013

Long, long time ago...

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for ThurstonHowellTheThird’sThirdThirstyThrowBackThursdayWearingThurgoodMarshall’sThermalUnderWear, November 14st, 20ThurrrrTeen.

We were going to give this whole thing a miss today, until We looked at the birthday list and saw who would be being ignored if We did that. While We are Not In The Mood, and Have Other Things To Do, We could not bring Ourselves to slight these lovely gentlemen…

First up, Happy Birthday to Joe, who turns twenty-four today in The City That Doesn’t Sleep (With Us), which he is busy making a more beautiful place just by existing within it.

Seconal, Happy Birthday to Glenn, who also turns twenty-four today, in some suburb or another of The City That Loves You (On Your) Back, which he is no doubt beautifying with his presence.  Glenn used to work for Us, back in the day when We had People Who Worked For Us, before the Evil Acquiring Company laid waste to Our gainful employment.  He once told Us a story about wearing a catsuit in public, the envisionment of which has remained with Us to this day.


And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to OurShaun, who turns twenty-four today on The Other Side Of The Pond, where he is busy beautifying the UK (aka, “the YUK”).  Realizing that it is OurShaun’s twenty-fourth birthday made Us recall attending his twenty-fourth birthday party a number of years ago (math is hard), which occasioned an e-pissode of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! actually written by Eric (remember him?) for the benefit of new readers, which We shall Cher with you in a moment.

Before We do that, however, We should mention, lest you thought We were finished plugging Ourself (We HAVE to plug Ourself…no one else will) that LOOKING FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour  is actually going on tour!  We shall be at Vagabond Acting Troupe’s Arts House Theater, somewhere called Honey Boo Boo, Pennsylvania, which, as near as We can tell from a map, appears to be in Amish country.  You can find all the particulars regarding Our gig next Sunday, November 17, here: 

Is Starzina gonna rock Zebediah’s Rumspringa, or what?

And now, for the benefit of newer Gentle Readers, courtesy of The WayBackMachine, an e-pissode of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! from all the way back in the Dark Ages, when it was just an email sent out to a few friends.  (Many of these e-pissodes are available in dead-tree format (and also downloadable as PDFs) at .  (We are NOT making that up…you could be the proud owner of volumes containing every scintillating e-pissode from 2004, 2005, 2006, and 2007.)):

Greetings, Eric—

Here is your horoscope for November 16:

(Welcome to new reader Shaun, a convert to Eric’s Daily Horrorscope after my recent Bite The Big Apple Tour. Even though it will be a WHOLE YEAR till he turns 24, I’m sure he’ll follow along just fine.)

(It does occur to me, however, that I have been somewhat remiss in explaining obscure terms, abbreviations, and jargon used in Eric’s Daily Horoscope for My New Readers…and also that some of My Old Readers might find such an explanation handy when they choose to pass Eric’s Daily Horoscope on to uninitiated friends. (Not that I have plans for World Domination, or anything. (Well, I do, but at World Domination School, they taught us that, if you have such plans, it’s better for no one to know about them until it’s too late.)))

(So herewith is a short Guide To Eric’s Daily Horoscope (which I am writing because I pretty much went home and hibernated last night, so I don’t have much to say in the horoscope proper (surely you didn’t imagine that I was being altruistic in some way?)). You may want to save this, in case you ever pass along an episode of Eric’s Daily Horoscope to friends. (See “World Domination” above.))

(The actual horoscope in Eric’s Daily Horoscope comes (is stolen) from It used to be written by a woman named Kelli Fox, whom Eric would frequently call any number of derogatory names, most of which were self-explanatory and really disgusting. Then suddenly, without warning, Kelli was replaced by a woman (or a Chinaman…that just occurred to me) named Kim Something-Hyphen-Something Else, whose first proclamation went something like “Today will be full of Hallmark moments”. It was all downhill from there. Eric’s Daily Horoscope is generally published five days a week (hey, you don’t think I’m gonna sit around and write this cr@p on MY time, do ya?) and contains, after the trials and tribulations of Eric’s horoscope, YOUR daily horoscope, because, after all, I love all y’all.)

(Parenthetically, this brings us to the Quote of the Day: “Personally, I think anybody who talks about themselves in the third person is looney tunes.” Name the film, win a prize.)

(The EAC: The Evil Acquiring Company purchased Eric’s previous company in Spring, 2004, ending, amongst other things, Eric’s pleasant little ten minute walk to work, and forcing him to ride…

The My Bus: Although Eric is the undisputed Queen of Self-Delusion (and De Nile), even HE is hard pressed to convince himself that the My Bus is actually a private limousine with really uncomfortable seats. Especially when they let Other People get onto it. He will, however, persist in calling it the My Bus, because he once heard that possession is nine tenfs of de law. (See what I mean about that “third person “ thing?)

The Other People: Amongst the notable Other People on the My Bus are:

Sucretia: Absent for quite some time from the My Bus ride, Sucretia is fondly recalled for her frequent stories (told REALLY LOUDLY at 6:45AM) of the various trials and tribulations of raising her multiple babies, dealing with her multiple BabyDaddies, and getting off the pipe. Eric suspects that she is currently in jail, and is not entirely convinced that he didn’t recognize her on ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT as Martha Stewart’s cellmate. Sucretia leaves behind any number of not-quite-as-“colorful” sistahs, aunts, nieces, and cousins, including Epiphany, Chl@mydia, Saliva, Mitochondria, and G0norrhea.

Cute Shorts Boy in the Pumpkin Pie Coat (formerly Cute Shorts Boy): So named because he was a cute boy and, prior to the arrival of nuclear winter, he wore shorts. The shorts themselves may or may not have been cute; that wasn’t the point. Looks like the missing brother in between My Daughter Christina (see below) and HER brother. Disappeared from the My Bus under mysterious circumstances recently, shortly after the appearance of the Pumpkin Pie (Colored) Coat. Eric suspects that his disappearance was caused by someone leaking Eric’s Daily Horoscope to him.

Other passengers whose names are self-explanatory:

Kevin Bacon’s Younger Brother Cute Doctor Boy
Sixties Radical Angela Davis
Cute Tall Boy Whose Main Attributes Are Being Cute And Tall And Who I Haven’t Thought Up A Better Nickname For Yet

The My Bus ride also occasionally has Special Guest Stars. Why, in recent weeks alone we’ve had Della Reese (wearing boaf of her wigs) and The Late Ray Charles.

Other People in Eric’s Daily Horoscope Who Wouldn’t Be Caught DEAD On The My Bus (And Who Possibly Require Some Explanation, Unlike Most People Who Flit Through These Pages And Are Clear From Their Context):

My Daughter Christina: The product of a drunken liaison between her Mommie Dearest and McDonna, Christina is 24 years old (as is, oddly , her Mommie Dearest, due to some time-space continuum hijinks involving a time machine and an old Smith Corona typewriter) and lives in Manhattan. She has an Ex-Husband (well, actually any number of them, but I digress) whose storyline has recently been declared officially over.

My Granddaughter Mo’Niques: The product of a drunken liaison between My Daughter Christina and…well, it presumably could’ve been just about anybody. Mo’Niques is also 24 years old and lives in New York

SweetPea/TCBITWWW: The Cutest Boy In The Whole Wide World recently said goodbye and moved to…where else? New York. How cute IS TCBITWWW? Cute enough to call get away with calling Eric “Pappy”. Which, if you’ve ever met Eric, means he’s pretty fu(kin’ cute.

There; I think that should bring everyone up to speed…and, if not, I’m tired of all this “third person” cr@p, so I’m stopping. Here comes the horoscope…)

You're far more concerned with earthly matters -- oh, and earthy pleasures -- than you have been in some time now. (Yeah, that’s me. I’se jes’ a Big Ol’ Earth Muthah. Meanwhile, at the EAC, the grinning j@ck@ss in the blue blazer whose job was to stand in the lobby and ask to see my badge has today been replaced by a burly BlackMan who asked to see my “pitcher”. A team of workmen are busily installing a new security door. Hey, kids: save your money. Trust me, NOBODY would come in here if they didn’t HAVE to.)

The good news is that you'll have plenty of help indulging in any hedonistic category you choose. (Ah, hedonism. It’s not nice to tease me with that, as I am currently sitting in the rat-infested cr@ckhouse of antihedonism which sucks all of the hedonism out of The Universe.)

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. (Aw, c’mon, Kim Of Sum Yung Gai…that’s not a horoscope, it’s a needlepointed sampler. @sshatted c00zehead. Meanwhile, it occurs to me that, as much as I talk about the My Bus ride, I’ve never said anything about My Driver(s), so here they are:

Smiling BlackMan Who Is Happy In His Work: This driver (let’s call him Tyrone) has a pleasant smile and says “Good morning.” He frequently chats with passengers, especially those of the female persuasion. When he is driving, the My Bus comes on time, as he apparently learned the difference between White People’s Time and C0l0red People’s Time. If you had a Miss Daisy, you would let him drive her.

Cranky BlackMan Whose Unemployment Ran Out: There are actually several of these drivers (let’s call them Rastus), but they are completely interchangeable. They never smile or say “Good morning” and generally look like they would rather run over you with the bus than let you on it. When they are driving, the My Bus runs on a schedule that can best be called sporadic, depending upon how far it is to the nearest sto’ where one can purchase bottles of malt liquor in paper bags. If you had a Miss Daisy, you would let her drive herself and pray for the best.

Nasty BlackWoman Wif No Teef Who Don’t Eben Gots A Driver’s License But Da BabyDaddy In Jail And Da Baby Need Milk: As if her name weren’t self-explanatory, this driver (who mercifully only rarely appears…let’s call her Sucretia’s cousin Pneumonia) neither smiles nor says “Good Morning”, and does not even appear to know the My Bus’s schedule or route, but da baby need milk. If you had a Miss Daisy, she would haul this b1tch off to Rastus’s shack and give him a stern talking to until he agreed to make an honest woman of her.)

Everything may not go exactly as you thought it would, (What? In MY life? Surely you jest….)
so be prepared to break out those contingency plans -- you might be needing them in the next few days. (Contingency plans…cr@ck pipe…whatever it takes.)
Things are definitely sure to move in a surprising direction. (Well, except that now that you’ve TOLD me it’s gonna be a surprise, how surprised can I be? It’s like the age old question: if Helen Keller falls down in a forest, is there sound?)

Whatever you do, don't panic: (Also don’t worry; be happy. Also Bite. Me.)
something that seemed like a disadvantage can turn out to have amazing results in the end. (Yeah. Amazing. That’s one of those words like “surprising”. And believe me, I’m lookin’ forward to it.)

Think positive: if you think you can, then you can. (Oh, look; I’m a little engine. Also, I’m a little teapot. Here’s my love handles and HERE is my spout. SURPRISE!!! Wasn’t that AMAZING???)

Take a little time off right now and reevaluate your romantic resume. (Well, I would do that, but I seem to have misplaced the postage stamp that it was written on the back of.)

You've forgotten your best assets and need to have them fresh in mind on your next date. (Honey, when your “assets” is this fat, you’d be hard pressed to forget, much as you’d like to.)

(Day-um, that was a whole lotta horoscope! And it’s all free in your afternoon email. Am I a helluva guy, or what? Meanwhile, in YOUR horoscopes today, it appears to be a lovely day for anyone who’s loved by a Cancer. Also, presumably, a lovely day FOR Cancers, as, if you’re giving out chocolate, I’ll bet you’re getting’ a little sumpin sumpin in return.)

Tuesday, November 16, 2004 It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, its the size of the fight in the dog.

Aries (March 21 - April 19)
You are being followed by a man with an eye patch and a prosthetic limb. He, in turn, is being followed by a large reptile, which is making a ticking sound.

Taurus (April 20 - May 20)
You will begin a spiritual journey. The karmic chaos which has surrounded you begins to settle into a new pattern. Also, you will become strangely fascinated by electric juicers.

Gemini (May 21 - June 20)
Today you will wonder where idiomatic expressions come from, and whether you can start one yourself. Be careful, though. The first person to say "nothing succeeds like success" must have sounded like a real idiot.

Cancer (June 21 - July 22)
Good day to buy chocolate for someone you love.

Leo (July 23 - August 22)
Today you'll develop a rare mental disorder, causing you to mix metaphors. But don't you worry -- you can't make an omelette without a silver lining, and in this case, you'll discover that everyone will confuse mixed metaphors with management potential. BIG promotion in store.

Virgo (August 23 - September 22)
Excellent day for a bubble bath. If you don't have a little yellow rubber duckie, you'll need to get that first, of course.

Libra (September 22 - October 22)
Good day to get lots of water in plastic bottles, and shore up your other earthquake preparations. Nothing to worry about, I'm sure. Well, actually, maybe just a little to worry about.

Scorpio (October 23 - November 21)
A scruffy-looking fellow who you've never seen before will come up and offer you a very strange-looking raisin muffin. Good idea to decline, in this instance.

Sagittarius (November 22 - December 21)
Bad day to tease a yak.

Capricorn (December 22 - January 20)
Due to minor lymph-node infection, several dangerous toxins will shortly be released into your bloodstream. Not to worry. You'll survive, and the only permanent brain damage will involve an enthusiasm for polka music.

Aquarius (January 21 - February 18)
Due to a bump on the head today, you will lose all memory of what you did with your keys. Or at least, that always makes a dandy excuse.

Pisces (February 19 - March 20)
A rare form of management disease will strike you today, where you can only speak in metaphors. Still, you'll open the kimono and hit the ground running.

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:  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.