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Monday, January 6, 2014

Get on the bus, Gus

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherManicottiMonDay, January 6st, 2013.

Happy Birthday to Drusilla, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in El Lay.

Also, Happy Feast of the Epiphany, the Sucretia, the Mitochondria, and the rest of the MyBus riders from Back In The Day.  This year, We will be celebrating (well, okay, not celebrating, exactly) the tenf anniversary of Our first ride on the MyBus.  Ten years…CuteShortsBoy has presumably grown into CuteShortsMan.

As We are weak with disease, today’s e-pissode will have precious little original content.  To make up for that, here is an acid flashback to Our original e-xplanation of the MyBus, all the way from 2004:

(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. 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.

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.)

Here at Casa du Curmudgeon, We continue to be sick like Downward Dog and delirious with the fever for the flavor of a Pringles™.  This came upon Us (and when does THAT happen?) after Friday’s e-pisstle and was in full swing by Friday night.  It has forced Us to call in sick to work, and to cancel dinner plans for today to which We have been looking forward for practically damn ever.  Also, it has put Us behind on All Of Those Things We Were Going To Accomplish After The Holidays.

We can tell that this is the flu, and not just a common cold because, in addition to all of the oh-so-attractive physical symptoms, it is accompanied by that state of depression and feeling of general worthlessness that only comes with a good flu.  We would expound upon that, but the sound of typing is getting on Our nerves.

Our video (Capricorn, for you naked skimmers who aren’t paying attention) is above, and here is the link with which you may share it with your friends

On repeat viewing, We must say that that particular video is one of Our favorites.  It has, over time, been somewhat e-clipsed by the artsy-fartsiness of Our French New Wave e-pissode:

…as well as by, naturally, The One With Justin Bieber’s Penis:

Having thus shamelessly plugged Ourself (because if We don’t plug Ourself, clearly no one else is going to), We shall move on.

In other other news, We have been seriously remiss in reporting on the activities Our ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulist) friend, colleague, and fantasy three-legged race partner, AstroGeek. (External factors such as his move to a new blogging platform and the demise of Google Reader have certainly contributed to this remissness, but still…)  Here is his latest e-pisstle, which is all the evidence you need to begin clamoring for him to replace Kelli The AssHatt.  GO!

In other news, mark your calendars for Sunday, January 12 at 8PM and Friday, January 17 at 8PM, in Beautiful Downtown Norristown for the triumphant return of LOOKING FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour in Centre Theatre’s Independent Voices Festival!

Tickets are now available at
Also, check out the SitOnOurFaceBook event ( (FYI That is NOT Our mouth in the logo)).

This will not, as you may have guessed, be the only reminder you will receive of this upcoming event.  Stay tuned also for other appearances in the Greater Philadelphia Area and up and down the Eastern Seaboard.  Because Starzina is nothing if not peripatetic.  (Also poetic and chic.)

And now, the HorrorScope…

Oh, We can’t even.

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.