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Sunday, December 8, 2013

You're no tramp but you're no lady

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for SunDayFunDay, December 8rd, 2013.

It is fucking snowing outside.  Not just snowing, but fucking snowingAnd it is not even winter yet.  And no matter how much thinks We live in Milwaukee, West Wisconsonomington, and keeps telling Us how much worse the weather is there than here, it doesn’t help, because all We can think of is Our poor actor friend, out there attempting to bring culture to the dairy farmers, and being rewarded for his thespian efforts by his testicles scurrying up into his alabaster abdominal cavity, saying to each other, “Why don’t we just go be ovaries?  It’d be warmer…”

(Has anyone seen Our smelling salts?)

We can tell by the dazed and confused expressions on some of Our gentlemen Gentle Readers’ faces that you may have been previously unaware that your testicles talk to each other.  Of course they do!  (Who else are they gonna talk to?)  Why, every morning when you stand up, the one that hangs less low says to the lower-hanging one, “Why so down?”

(You should see the expressions on your scrotums’ faces right now.)

(How many of you just looked down?)

Some of Our more prudish Victorian Gentle Readers are probably shocked and appalled right about now.  We, however, with Our innate ability to turn chicken shit into chicken salad, are proud of Ourself for getting through that whole thing without making a dick joke.

But enough about cold cojones; it’s time for some birthday wishes.  Happy Birthday to Aaron, whose cojones turn twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  (No, the fact that he has two cojones turning twenty-four does NOT make him forty-eight.  Math is hard. (Refrain from dick joke, refrain from dick joke, refrain from dick joke…))

Also, Happy Birthday to Bill, who also turns twenty-four today, in New York.  New York, New York, that is, The City That Doesn’t Sleep (With Us).  Our SitOnMyFaceBook informs Us that Bill is now a Native New Yorker.  (How many of you remember that song?  All of the twenty-four-year-olds, no doubt…)

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Bryan, who also turns twenty-four today, also right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles. (We should point out here that, despite having a Y in his name, this is a completely different Bryan than the one who was the star of “Picturing Bryan’s Birthday Suit” here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! a few weeks ago, lest We give offense where none is meant.)

Okay, the goddamn snow is laying now.  We are fairly certain it was Shakespeare who said, “This motherfucking weather can suck my sodding dick.”

(So much for that “no dick joke” business.)

Speaking of dick jokes, Happy Feast Of The Immaculate Contraption to the rest of Our Gentle Readers.  The Immaculate Contraption refers, of course, to the fact that Mrs. MaryMotherOfGod was conceived without original sin.  Which means that she was only capable of committing the same crappy sins as everybody else.  With the exception, They would have Us believe, of fornication.  Although We don’t know about you, but if We were (subjunctively) impregnated by The Almighty, We would certainly want to lose Our virginity in the process.

Meanwhile, does anybody else feel sorry for Joseph when they start hearing this whole cock(heh)amamie story at this time of year?  The poor man’s wife is a virgin, AND a Jewish mother…does this sound like the recipe for a happy marriage to you?  Because it certainly doesn’t sound like the recipe for a happy marriage to Us…

We are going to have to SHOVEL this fucking snow.  It is not even fucking winter yet.  Jeebus H. Motherfucking Cripes On A Goddamn Cracker!

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.

And here’s the HorrorScope…

In the single bright ray of sunshine We are able to discern in today’s bleak forecast, it is Ian Somerhalder’s birthday.  Perhaps if We Picture THAT particular birthday suit long and hard (heh…stealth dick joke) the motherfucking snow will just melt of its own accord.

Reach out and lend a hand to someone who needs it today (Paging Ian Somerhalder…Ian Somerhalder to the white courtesy phone…)

— you should score extra karma, (Oh, please.  If any more fucking karma lands around here, We’ll be able to open a chameleon store.)

and you may find that you’re drawn toward something new and cool (Don’t say “cool”.  AssHatt.)

once the day is done.  (Well, that shouldn’t take much time, considering that days at this time of year are about eight minutes long.)

 Real problems involving your nearest and dearest need most of your attention, so try to ignore frivolous situations as much as possible.  (Yeah.   Frivolous.  Whatevs.  Meanwhile, where do They get off calling it The FEAST Of The Immaculate Contraption?  The only way a fucking feast is gonna appear around here is if We betake Our assz to the Ack-A-Me for the provisions for said feast, and then come home and prepare said feast Our Own Self.  That ain’t no goddamn miracle.)

(We can just imagine the Ack-A-Me right about now…all those people grabbing all the eggs, milk, bread, and toilet paper…after all, there’s gonna be two or three inches of snow.  That means it’s time to eat French toast till We shit Ourselves.)

You have enough projects to keep you busy for now — avoid taking on any new business or personal tasks unless it’s absolutely necessary.  (You know, Kelli, if you keep giving advice like that, We might stop calling you “AssHatt”.)

The key word right now is ‘prioritize.’ (Actually, the key word right now is “Ian Somerhalder’s dick”.  Which is, of course, more than one word, but then, One imagines it’s a rather exceptional dick.)

Although it might be difficult to tear yourself away from your own dramas, your selflessness will be rewarded in extremely beneficial ways.  (Tell it to the Marines.  (But only if they’re gonna shovel Our snow for Us.))

(What does “tell it to the Marines” even mean? (We just Googled it on Wikipedia…it appears to imply that Marines are stupider than people in the Navy.  Not, however, apparently stupid enough to come shovel Our snow.))

Sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all.  (Oh, Kelli.  We take back (almost) everything bad We’ve ever said about you.)

Today you’re feeling frustrated and possibly unable to get anything accomplished.  (Fortunately, We bought Our Sunday paper yesterday.  We are now trying to imagine (because We are too lazy to go to the refrigerator and look) what food might actually be in Our house to keep Us from having to venture any further than Our front stoop…)

Don’t fight it — just make it a lazy day and let yourself just chill. (That was such a lovely sentence till you fucked it all up by saying “chill”.)

Tonight, make a date with a favorite movie and some ice cream.  (“Ice cream”?  You really ARE an AssHatt, aren’t you?)

(Ian Somerhalder’s dick, Ian Somerhalder’s dick, Ian Somerhalder’s dick…)

(Just in case you were wondering, that did NOT work like “Beetlejuice”.)

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.