Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for …oh, wait, it’s only Wednesday? So if We call it Thursday, people are gonna
get confused? Okay….
Happy Hump Day to all you dreary dromedaries
and backwards bactrians out there in Hump-Hump Land.
A poem:
The
two-humped camel, he’s a mammal…
…also.
Poetry
is hard.
Go
fuck yerself.
Happy HumpDay Birthday, meanwhile, to
John. Unlike most people who birthdays
are celebrated in the hallowed pages of these e-pisstles, John is NOT turning
twenty-four today. We would tell you
just how very young he is, but then We would have to go hang Ourself in the
closet. Suffice it to say, We have
panties older than he is. They say “Ye
Olde Tuesday” on the front. They’re like
the Shroud of Turin, except instead of Jesus’s face, they’ve got Miss Havisham’s. Or The Ghost Of Christmas Past. One of those.
They are made out of cobwebs spun by a spider from King Tut’s tomb.
Sigh.
In other news, We neglected to mention in
yesterday’s e-pissode that a SitOnOurFaceBook friend had informed everyone that
it was only 128 days until Spring. So
today, it’s only 127 days. So there’s
that.
In case We haven’t been clear enough, We are
not doing especially well with this year’s transition into Eternal Darkness And
Nuclear Winter. And the folks who are
ignoring Our texts and emails aren’t helping any. KThxBye.
We
should also 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, the HorrorScope:
Well,
One supposes that things can’t be ALL bad on Whoopi Goldberg’s birthday.
Something
new pops up on your radar (Do you pop out at parties? Are you unpoopular?)
and
forces you to take notice. (See, if
Kelli The AssHatt had an editor, that sentence would be SOOOO much more
interesting, because it would read, “Something nude pops up on your radar and
forces you to take nudists.”)
You
may find that you’re in the middle (Just call Us Malcolm. In the Middle. Or Angel.
Of the Morning. One of those.)
of
a new adventure before you even realize what led up to this exciting
moment! (You can tell it’s an exciting! Moment!
Because there’s an exclamation! Point! There for no reason!)
(Shut!
Up! Kelli!)
Testy?
Cranky? Who, you? (Tinky? Crusty? (Hey, YOU name YOUR Seven Dwarves, We’ll name
Ours.))
Just
because the planet in charge of your sign just so happens to be Mars, the
ancient god of war? (Hey, if they called him “Mars, the god of warS”, it would
rhyme.)
(Poetry
is hard.
Go
fuck yerself.)
No
way. (Way.)
It’s
not that you’re irritable. (Of course not.
It’s just that so many people are working overtime to piss Us the fuck
off.)
It’s
just that ‘the opponents’ — those of us who happen to inhabit the extra space
in your world — are just so darned uncooperative. (ExACTly.)
Don’t
take any guff from these intruders. (Oh, great. Now where are We supposed
to get guff?)
Put
’em right in their place. (Well, if We
can do that, why can’t We at least take HALF of their guff?)
Being
a downer turns off those around you, so turn it around into a frenzy of
positive energy. (Mmm-hmm. Because
nothing equates to positivity like “a frenzy”.)
Concentrate
on some big project you’re actually thrilled to take part in, and let your
enthusiasm light the way. (It’s like
They say, “It’s better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”)
(On
the other hand…fucking darkness.)
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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