Google+ Followers

Monday, June 30, 2014

These are probably the worst pies in London

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherManInTheAtticMonday, June 30st , 2014.

Happy Birthday to Lesley, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.

Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Avram and to Jeff and to LaVonne, each of whom turned twenty-four this past weekend.

Faithful Gentle Readers will recall Our recent central air conditioning fiasco.  Well, in Our latest OurHouseWhereWeLive Hates Us news, having baked a pecan pie, in addition to preparing an entire birthday dinner for Our friend on Wednesday (insert “BirthDoh Dinner” joke here), Our oven has now apparently decided to stop ovening.  Oh, Our broiler still broils, and Our stovetop still stovetops (mmmm….stuffing), but the buns in Our oven are cold.

Now, it will amuse you to know that, in the course of Our WorldWideInterWebNetzian research to identify an appropriate Oven Repair Person, We ran across all manner of Do-It-Yourself advice which insisted that it was simplicity itself to obtain a new heating coil (the obvious culprit in Our oven’s ovenlessness) and replace same One’s Very Own Self.  We even stuck Our head in the oven (which is unfortunately electric, so that didn’t even BEGIN to work out) and ascertained that, the whole thing being apparently constructed out of three Tinkertoys™ and a pipe cleaner, it was probably indeed D-I-Y simple.

Unless, of course, your own personal “Yourself” who is expected to Do-It is OURSELF.

Because, you see, every D-I-Y instruction began with “unplug the oven”.  And Our oven ain’t no little E-Z Bake™ affair…this is one big-ass oven.  The plug to which is, no doubt, (ahem) in the rear.  So the likelihood of Our fragile flower of a Self being able to coerce said oven away from the wall so We could get at its plug (does this sound dirty to you?  Because it sounds dirty to Us, and We even have some slight idea as to what the hell We’re talking about) is practically nil.

We could, of course, shut down the electricity to the entire kitchen, but, this being OUR life, you just KNOW that electricity would never go back on.

(Meanwhile, in the course of typing the above, We mistyped “at its plug” as “a tits plug”, which is actually funnier than the entire story.  So We thought We’d Cher.  You’re welcome.)

In related news, We just fixed something else that had gone wrong in OurHouseWhereWeLIve with about a half a roll of duct tape.  We would tell you what it was, but then We would have to kill you.

In other news, We find Ourselves (not that We were looking for Us, but it’s a figger of speech) in the sign of Cancer, Our video for which is above …and here is the link with which you may share it with your friends:  ))).


Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone in a tree, here is Our previous Cancer video, which is the second  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,  it is Our future ex-husband, Olympic swimmer Michael “Single-Penisedly Bringing The Speedo™ Back” Phelps’s birthday today.  Good MORNING, Mister Phelps!

Also, TheLovelyAndTalented Willam Belli showed up for the first time on Our celebrity birthday website, which see:  He finds hisself in between Florence Ballard, of Supremes fame, and Rick Gonzalez, of We’re-not-exactly-sure-what fame.  Happy 24th, Willam!

  • Aries After three exhausting weeks, you'll be embarrassed and infuriated to learn that the Marine Corps motto is not in fact "Semper Fellatio."
  • Taurus God will sincerely apologize to the rest of the hemisphere this week, but explains the snowstorms were the only way to prevent you from wearing those awful sandals.
  • Gemini You'll finally start to get calls about that invisible hovercraft you have for sale when the CIA declassifies thousands of previously classified ads.
  • Cancer Traveling the world for five years certainly taught you things you'd never have learned otherwise, but you wish someone had told you the hot dog was on a string tied to a stick on your hat.
  • Leo Birthday parties have been ruined in some strange ways over the years, but no one will ever top the sick shit you're going to pull next Thursday.
  • Virgo You're not the kind of person who likes to ask for help, but for Christ's sake, that's an overturned city bus you're trapped under.
  • Libra Seriously, almost everyone these days knows that the whale is a mammal and not a fish, and therefore those guys aren't sleeping with you for your brains.
  • Scorpio People born under your sign are tough but fair, gruff but lovable, and faithful to a fault, but the stars refuse to take responsibility for you huffing all that paint thinner.
  • Sagittarius You’re certainly the kind of person no one likes to fuck with. Or make out with, hold hands with, or even hug, for that matter.
  • Capricorn To his credit, the coroner will apologize to your family, but they'll be forced to admit that "Rectum? Damn thing killed him!" was appropriate considering the circumstances.
  • Aquarius Love will be everywhere this week, leaving you nowhere to hide when it gets violent and ugly the way it always does.
  • Pisces You're getting better at figuring out what your dreams really mean. However, all that stuff that happens when you're awake is still pretty baffling.

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.