Google+ Followers

Monday, December 2, 2013

Oops! I did it again!

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! For JustAnotherMackerelMonday,  December 2th , 2013.

The entire WorldWideInterWebNetz were agog and aghast, flummoxed and flabbergasted, Batman and Robin slash fictioned (ooops) to arrive at their places of enjoyment this morning, fire up their ‘puters, and be treated to the unexpected joy of a Sunday e-dition of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! that they could read before the ink dries on Our Monday e-pisstle.

Just another fortuitous side effect of Holidailies (for an explanation of which, please see yesterday’s e-pissode.  We would not wish to repeat Ourself.  (Repetitively.  (And be redundant))):

Happy Birthday, meanwhile, to Buddy (no relation to the Buddy Holly of yesterday’s e-pissode title), who turns twenty-four today in, Our SitOnMyFaceBook just informed Us, Connecticut.  Which is, of course, a suburb of New York, New York, The City That Doesn’t Sleep (With Us).

Happy Birthday also to Sean’s Mom, who We just learned turns twenty-four today somewhere in Greater Bostonia.

And last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to TheLovelyAndTalented Blair, who also turns twenty-four today, all the way out in La Pittzburgh.


We did so hope to approach Holidailies this year full of high-minded sentiment, issuing forth e-pisstles full of sound and fury, pomp and circumstance, Batman and Robin slash fiction (ooops)…did We mention sound and fury?

Turns out, We are better at signifying nothing.

So, hot on the heels of Picturing Allen And Kevin Naked Week and Picturing Peter’s Peter Week, despite the disaster that was Picturing Bryan’s Birthday Suit Week (from which you really would have thought We’d have learned Our lesson), We bring you Picturing Blair In The Buff Week.

Now, as Blair once resided here at Casa de Crackpot with Us and HimSelf, propriety forbids Us from saying whether We’ve actually ever seen Blair In The Buff or not. However, what follows is a description of one of the previous weeks, and, as no one has ever claimed the prize in question, all of the rules still apply:

{Insert WayBackMachine sound effects here}

In other news, Picturing Peter’s Peter Week continues apace, and continues to include, presumably, Picturing Peter’s Pubic Hair, unless there’s been some sort of bizarre manscaping incident. We did in fact ask Peter for his nom de pubes, so We could report back to Our Gentle Readers, but We as yet have had no word on what, if anything, Peter has named his pubic hair. More on this story as it (ahem) develops.

It occurs to Us that, unlike the previous Picturing Allen And Kevin Naked Week, in which We have previously peeped at the penii at hand (as it were), Picturing Peter’s Peter Week is a completely different exercise, involving, as it does, one hundred percent imagination, and absolutely zero sense memory.  So if Allen or Kevin, say, were (subjunctively) to sext Us (as the kidz say) a private parts picture, per se, (“per se” didn’t really make sense there, but We were waxing poetic (although perhaps We shouldn’t say “waxing” so close to Allen and Kevin’s private parts)), those would be previously peeped penis pixtures, whereas (seriously?  How literate are We?) if Peter sexted Us a private peter picture, that would be a Peter’s penis picture premiere.

Meanwhile, lest you three gentlemen think this is all just random fun at your expense, the first one of you to send Us a private parts pixture (via phone, email, or SitOnMyFaceBook message) will receive a prize via return mail.  (And no, by “prize”, We do NOT mean a pixture of Our Own private parts.)

And, in case you were wondering, gentlemen, that PRIZE has yet to be claimed.  So fire up those cameraphones and Make. Our. Day.  (You’re picturing Clint Eastwood dressed up as Starzina now, aren’t you?  And this entertainment is ALL FREE.)

{Discontinue WayBackMachine sound effects here}

In still other news We are once again sharing with you Our very most favoritest Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope  video (Sagittarius) with you (see above).  Here is the link with which you may share it with others:  You’re welcome.

Absolutely Fabulously Randomly, this just in from Some Guy on OK Stupid:

If the universe has a finite amount of mass, how can Olive Garden promise unlimited salad and breadsticks?

We are pretty sure We are in love.

And here’s the HorrorScope:

It is Britney Spears’s birthday.  Britney Spears is most notable in the world of word puzzlers for having a name which is an anagram of “Presbyterians”.  Of course, now that every word puzzler on the planet knows this, she is completely irrelevant.

You are feeling the urge to explore — so throw away the map and take off in a bold new direction!  (Kiss Us quick, We’re Vasco da Gama.  (Wouldja believe the Dalai Lama?  (Michelle Obama?)))

This could be as simple as (As simple as We are?  We doubt it…)

trying a new kind of food or as crazy as a spontaneous road trip.  (There SOOO wants to be a “spontaneous abortion” joke here, but We are trying really hard to be fucking polite.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

 If you think you can make peace between two people who’ve been bickering a lot lately, you’re probably right. (But where’s the fun in that?  Bicker away, dicks.)

You can see through their bluster (Indeed.  And, at this time of year, they should know better than to wear the see-through bluster without the proper foundation garments.  Jeebus.)

and you know that deep down inside they really like and respect each other. (R-E-S-P-E-C-T…M-O-U-S-E…)

(Kiss Us quick, We’re Aretha Franklin. (Or, at the very least, Aretha Franklin’s hat.))

Now, all you have to do is to convince them of this. (Well, it is certainly easier to believe that We are Aretha Franklin’s hat than it is to believe that We are Vasco da Gama.  Duh.)

Believe it or not, your word carries a lot of weight with each of them. (Was that a fat joke?)

So step in and say something today. (How many of you are still waiting for the Batman and Robin slash fiction?)

Don’t worry about being told to mind your own business. (What if there IS a business that’s like show business?)

They are looking for a referee.  (We, on the other hand, are looking for a jamboree.  In Our negligee. )


Honesty may be the best policy, (We still can’t tell you if We’ve seen Blair In The Buff or not.)

but it’s only right to add a little positive to the negative. (But don’t mess with Mister In-Between.)

If someone asks for romantic advice or if you must let someone down, remember to add a spoonful of sugar. (Insert “go down” joke here.)

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.