Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WhatWouldBeHumpDayIfThisWeekHadAHumpButIt’sAFourDayWeekSoItHasNoHumpSoThisWeekIsHumplessJustLikeWeAreEVERYWeekHaHaHa,
May 28rd , 2014.
Also, Happy Vigesimo Octavo de Mayo to
everybody.
So, for something new and different, it’s
raining. Merde, il pleut.
It is so fucking multicultural up in this place, it’s like the goddamn United Nations. We habla Espaniol, We parlez-vous Francais, why, We’d probably speak Esquimaux if somebody would cart all this whale blubber out of here. All in the interests of improving the abilities of Our Gentle Readers who are still in grade school to speak in tongues.
Hey, everybody’s gotta grow up sometime.
Jeebus Cripes, it’s pleuting goddamn cats and
dogs out there. Or, as they would say in
Frawnch, “il pleut la cuisine chinoise”. (That there was a little joke for Our Sistah
Ovella. (Hi, Ovella!))
So
Maya Angelou died. Ordinarily, We would
not address celebrity death within these e-pisstles, as it does not fit in with
Our Mission Statement of (A.) making YouPeople feel better by comparison
(although you do presumably feel better than Maya Angelou at the moment…hmmm…)
and (2.) keeping a journalistic chronicle of the tedious repetitive ennui that
We pretend is Our life. So, unless Maya
Angelou died during a dinner party at Our house, We should presumably keep Our
yap shut on the subject.
However.
Regular Gentle Readers who are NOT naked
skimmers will be aware that Ms. Angelou has been frequently cited within these
hallowed pages. Mainly because her name
rhymes with stuff, like “Pixture du jour au jus”, “Gerard Depardieu”, and “Marilyn
McCoo”.
Which is exceedingly considerate of a poet to
do.
At least as far as We’re concerned…you too?
(We may need an exorcist up in here…the
direction that Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! could take if We are indeed possessed by
the spirit of Maya Angelou is too horrifying to contemplate…)
Are We doing this joke too soon?
Perhaps We should wait till June…
(Stop it, Maya!)
In other news, warm kisses on your opening to
OurMikeDoh, who opens tonight in InCaseOfFirePleaseBreakGlass
at the Arden.
Speaking of birthdays, We are awaiting with
bated breath (because We are nothing if not a master breath-bater) the arrival
of Our birthday gift of tickets to see Hedwig and the Angry Inch starring
Neil Patrick Harris and Linda Lovelace.
(We are just going to keep right on saying
that until that show closes, thereby demonstrating the utter futility of
Creative ViZZZualization. (Although
apparently We have viZZZualized well enough that one poor deluded Gentle Reader
actually imagines that We already HAVE said tickets.))
(How many of you are now picturing Linda Lovelace as Yitzhak? (How many of you are now saying, “That stupid bitch Starzina can keep doing this gag all the way till August, ain’t NOBODY buying her no damn Hedwig tickets”?))
In other news, We find Ourselves (not that We
were looking for Us, but it’s a figger of speech) in the sign of Gemini, Our
video for which is above …and here is the link with which you may share it with
your friends: http://youtu.be/Yj7enrUk6js
))).
Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone
in a tree, here is Our previous Gemini video, which is the first
Starzina’s
Time of the Month Horoscope video We ever made. Just look how far We’ve come! (Ooops…did that
get in your eye?):
And here’s the HorrorScope:
In celebrity birthday news, Gladys Knight is seventy
today. No word on how old her pips are.
(That sounds way dirtier now that We’ve typed
it out than it sounded in Our head.)
Try not to dive too deeply into any emotional
business today — you’ve got to keep things on surface-level as much as you can.
(Good thing We’re so shallow then,
innit?)
Your energy is best spent on mundane
activities anyway. (Oh, Our energy is
spent, alright. But shouldn’t today’s
activities be wednesdane?)
(All together now: GROOOOAAANNNNN!!!!)
You’re quite fiery, (We had Chinese food for
lunch.)
(We didn’t, really, but fart jokes are
funny. Especially implied fart jokes
that don’t use the word “fart”. The only
thing funnier than an implied fart joke that doesn’t use the word “fart” is an
implied fart joke that doesn’t use the word “fart” that you have to
EXPLAIN. Let Us tell you why…)
(Heh.
See what We did there?)
especially when it’s time to speak your mind (Now THAT’LL be a short sentence.)
— or ask for answers you know you deserve. (We
deserve so many things…)
You’ve
never been shy about asking those questions, either, even if they’re not polite
(Unfortunately, it is difficult to get questions answered when One is talking
to Oneself.)
Now that you’ve got a hot topic on your mind
and you know there’s no other way to solve it than to ask around, you’re more
than willing to risk tarnishing your reputation a little to get the answers
you’re after. (Hot Topic is not punk
rock.)
(That there was a little musical interlude. Because We have that power.)
If you
feel like the last kid picked for the kickball team, you’re right on track. (We
would play kickball if it actually involved kicking people in the balls.)
Don’t take it personally, though. (Fuck you.
Bee-Yotch.)
It isn’t about ability or popularity, it’s
more about availability. (Is it just Us, or does Kelli fling words about like a
poo-flinging monkey that’s flinging poo?)
(Since when is there not a word such as “poo”?
Let’s ask Maya Angelou...
What about poo-poo platters?
Now there’s some poo that matters…)
(Stop it, Maya!)
(See how We came back to the Maya Angelou
theme, AND referenced Chinese food? We
are A Highly-Trained Professional…do NOT attempt this at home.)
If
you’re not putting yourself front and center, it’s no wonder you’re light on
invitations. (What if Our backfield’s
in motion? THEN WHAT???)
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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