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Friday, November 22, 2013

If a skyful of crap always lands in your lap, make a curtsy and TAP your troubles away!

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for FriedEgg, November 22th, 2013.  Welcome to the one little corner of the WorldWideInterWebNetz where We will NOT be discussing the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy assassination.

Happy Birthday to Peggy and to Spencer, each of whom turns twenty-four today somewhere in the suburbs of The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.  

Happy Birthday also to Laura, and to Matt, and to OurAmericanCousin Greg, each of whom also turns twenty-four today somewhere in the suburbs of New York, New York, The City That Never Sleeps (With Us).

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Alex, who also too turns twenty-four today, all the way out in San Francisco.  We have never visited San Francisco, but We have always wanted to.  How adorable must a city be where they think Rice-A-Roni™ is a treat?

Ah, Geography.  Cities, and states, and whatnot. We were filling out a survey earlier (filling out surveys being one of the ways We attempt to butter Our biscuits these days (We would try prostitution, but We can’t even give that away)), when it occurred to Us that they always ask what state We live in, and they give Us a drop-down menu, but “Confusion” is never a choice.

Of course, they also ask what Our race is, but they never offer the option of “Amazing”.

This is one of those days when you just WISH you were (subjunctively) Us, innit?

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Speaking of boys in their underwear (how did THAT happen?),  you may recall, almost two weeks ago, Our birthday felicitations to Bryan, in which We pixtured him both in and out of his Y-fronts. (If you do NOT recall, please go here:  for what We promise you will be a much more entertaining e-pissode of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! than the one you are currently reading.)

Turns out, Bryan only saw said SitOnOurFaceBook posting earlier this week
So that was a whole lot of wasted viZZZualization.  We reckon We’re just gonna have to start pixturing Bryan’s birthday suit all over again. We are hereby declaring it Pixturing Bryan’s Birthday Suit Week.  (Put THAT in your Y-fronts and smoke it.))

Here We imagined These Young People were all up on their technology, and all the time Bryan’s been cramming 8-track tapes into his BetaMax™.

(Yes, that WAS a euphemism…thank you so much for noticing.)

Now if only We could get a few other folks to answer Our emails and texts…

{Discontinue WayBackMachine sound effects here.}

Speaking of folks not answering Our emails and texts, We’re pretty sure We got dumped recently.  (We’re not positive, because We weren’t having The Sex.  Life is confusing.)

And here’s the HorrorScope:

It is Jamie Campbell Bower’s birthday.  (Who the fuck, you ask, is Jamie Campbell Bower?  Google his ass and see.  (Well, don’t Google his literal ass…you’d probably faint dead away.  (Is there any Gentle Reader who doesn’t think We just this very minute Googled “Jamie Campbell Bower’s ass”?  Obviously, you’re new here.  (FYI, it would appear that Jamie Campbell Bower’s ass is an oft-Googled topic.  (He has a tattoo there.)))))

It is also, in a bizarre linguistic twist, Jamie Lee Curtis’s birthday.  (We shall be leaving her ass unGoogled.)

Find an outlet for your rage or frustration today (DON’T YOU FUCKING TELL US WHAT TO DO!  YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!  WE’VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF YOU!!!)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

— otherwise, you’re sure to let it out inappropriately, and who needs that? (We’re guessing nobody.)

(Oh…was that a rhetorical question?)

(Alas, poor rheTORic, We knew him well.)

(Great balls of fire (hic), it’s Rhet(oric)!)

(We wish We had a third litter-hairy illusion, but We haven’t.)

(Yes, We know that’s not the actual Shakespeare quote.  To make up for it, here’s the actual sound bite of Vivien Leigh: )

(Are We The Queen Of All Tech, or what?)

(Who said, “Or what”?)

 It’s a good day to talk things over or to dance your cares away.  (And Us, with Our tutu at the cleaners.  Dammit.  (Maybe We can borrow Josh’s grass skirt (hi, Josh!) and hula Our cares away.))

Spending more time with your family should be a higher priority for you right now. (Ya know what’s a higher priority for Us right now?  Bryan’s birthday suit.)

Don’t think (Okay, We won’t.)

that you have to spend all day long with them, either.

(What?  You told Us to stop thinking.)

The quality time you need is not about special events or family outings. (Well, We certainly hope not.  It is very rude to out One’s family.  Some things should be private.)

It’s about experiencing the everyday stuff together (Is it just Us, or is every damn phrase in this horoscope today a cue for a number from a Broadway musical?)

 (Why, yes, We are EXTREMELY gay…how clever of you to notice.)

 — the chores, the meals, the routine, even the bickering. (Isn’t it odd how neither “bickering” nor “dickering” sound like what they mean, but “flickering” does?)

(Well, ISN’T IT?)

Autumn is a time of colorful wonder for sure, but you might especially be curious about your love life.  (We have re-read that sentence three times.  It makes NO GODDAMN SENSE. KThxBye.)

Make sure to carve out some time for yourself to process feelings (In Our brand new Cuisinart™ feelings processor!)

and to just relax in the middle of all this activity. (Sigh.)

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.