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Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Get it low, get it low

(“Get it low”…heh.  We kill Us.)

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for TuesdayShortFuseDay, March 4rd , 2014.

Happy Birthday to Greg, who turns twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  Happy Birthday also to Matt, who also turns twenty-four today, also right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.

And last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Liesel, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in El Lay. (It occurs to Us after the fact that that sentence could have begun, “And last but not Liesel…”, but then you wouldn’t have known what the fuck We were talking about until it was over, so it would have been thirty-seven percent less funny.  You’re welcome.)

Belatedly speaking, We missed quite a few birthdays during Our hiatal hernia…er, hiatus.  We were supposed, of course, to be in Greater Bostonia, bringing the wisdom of Our ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulation)s to the New Englandese.  That having failed spectacularly, We spent most of the weekend sitting at home licking Our wounds.  Which was rather restrained of Us, licking nothing but Our Own Self, especially considering the company We had last night.

At any rate, in addition to missing Our usual “March comes in like a liar and goes out like a lamp” frivolity, We also missed the following:

Happy (now-belated) Birthday to Andy, and Brie, and Claudia, and Cliff, and Corky, and Reed, each of whom turned twenty-four somewhere in the past few days.  Happy Belated Birthday also to Devon, who also turned twenty-four in the past little while, and whom We are mentioning specially because We would have seen him in Greater Bostonia, had We (subjunctively) BEEN in greater Bostonia, where We were supposed to be.

Life is a goddamn fucking trial, no?

In addition to the preceding bevy of birthdays, We also missed the window for giving YouPeople Our full and insightful Oscar™ coverage.  So We shall be brief:

John Travolta, you had ONE. FUCKING. JOB.

If you were one of the (two) people who was actually looking forward to Our Oscar™ coverage, please enjoy this instant replay of last year’s: 

And last but not Liesel (see?  It’s funny now that you know what We’re talking about, right?  Riiiiiight???), the most important thing We missed was, of course, Justin Bieber’s twentieth birthday.  We sure hope he got Our card.

Speaking of last night and the Oscars™, We finally got around to watching 12 Years A Slave with Our company last night  We wish We could regale you with the scintillating discussion/commentary which followed, but suffice it say that We have now cemented into Our lexicon the phrase, “And THIS is why We can’t go on Oprah.

Stay tuned to these e-pisstles for a show-biz-related announcement pursuant to the preceding.

In still other news, We are poor, so We need to sell a lot of tickets to the following:

We will be performing one night only, Thursday, March 6th, in The Walker and O'Dare Mystery Radio Hour at the Powel House.  Details here: 

On Friday, March 7th, We will be performing one of the few remaining performances of Our murder mystery, Murder in Twelve Steps, which, if you haven’t seen in the past year, you probably don’t care about now.

And on Saturday, March 8th, We will be dusting off Everybody’s Favorite Messiah, Jesus H. Christ, as the WaitStaff plays The Match Game  at L’Etage:

Meanwhile, in ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopular) news, We have entered the sign of Pisces, Our most recent video for which is above.  Here is the link with which you may share it with your friends:  Because you do that, don’t you?  DON’T YOU?

And here, because We can resist no opportunity to share it, is Our FIRST Pisces video, starring the aforementioned, now non-teen-aged Justin Bieber.  :

Namaste, MotherFuckers.

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

And now, as We’ve got a script that needs a doctor, here are:

(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.