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Wednesday, August 20, 2014

If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Hump Day, August Twenniest, 2014.

Happy birthday to Mark, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles. And who gets a special shout-out for not only watching Our Leo video, but being the first person to point out that Leo doesn’t get a synesthesia color in said video.  Of course, We include such an imperfection in EACH of Our videos, because only Gawd is perfect.

Also, every sperm is sacred.

Happy birthday also to Ed, who also turns twenty-four today, also right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.

And happy birthday to Cindy, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in Texas.  Where, the song would have Us believe, all Our exes live.

Our Leo video (with its one imperfection) is above, and here is the link with which you may place it on the SitOnMyFaceBook pages of your friends having Leonine birthdays:

Speaking of country-western songs, here is a little something for Our Gentle Readers who are both country-western fans and feminists:

We received SO many responses to Our requests for dates for Our Fringe Festival schedule that We have now booked dates all the way up to and including the 2056 Fringe Festival.  (Where We hear Tribe of Fools will be doing a show entitled Grandpa Gumby Plays Canasta In Depends™.) But just in case you would like to try to bump one of Our dates with a better offer, We are reprinting Our schedule below:

As promised, here are Our preliminary dates of attendance at Fringe Festival shows, in anticipation of the many handsome suitors who will vie to be Our dates at same:

Friday, September 5, 8:00 The WaitStaff Sh!ts The Bed, which We directed and wrote sketches for, at L’Etage.  We will be there that night, barring unforeseen difficulties at the Murder Mystery Factory, and We hope you will be too.  Tickets here:

Monday, September 8, 8:00 Tribe of Fools’ Two Street: A Tale of Star-Crossed Mummers, at The Church of the Crucifixion.  We look forward to Tribe of Fools’ Fringe offering every year more than any other show.  We first saw them in Heavy Metal Dance Fag, then, in last year’s AntiHero, actors actually walked on the walls.  Maybe this year they’ll dance on the ceiling?  Tickets here:

Sunday, September 14, 3:00 Truth Be Told’s Bent, starring OurSistahOvella, at the Power Plant.  Tickets here:

So if you have an overwhelming desire to see any of these shows, (or, more importantly, to date Us (We know you’re out there…We can hear you breathing)), holla at Us. (Note that We have not yet purchased Our tickets for these shows, so these dates are subject to change.  (Especially if We get offers of hotter dates on other dates.  (Or figs…because, mmmmm, figs!)))

Coincidentally, both of those last two productions are currently fundraising, so if you happen to have a mark, a yen, a buck, or a pound with which you know not what to do, you could donate them here:

or here:   ... for Two Street.

(Is it wrong that We are now imagining how it would be so much more convenient for Us (it being, of course, All About Us) if they were (subjunctively) to combine these last two productions into one?  Gay Mummers Go To Dachau has a nice ring to it, no?)

And heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:   

It is Demi Lovato’s birthday.  It is not entirely clear to Us who the hell Demi Lovato actually is, but We do enjoy saying, “Domo arigato, Demi Lovato”, so there’s THAT.

And now, in the interests of saving time and accomplishing other things (and because We are plum tuckered out after having a synesthetic experience on command earlier), herewith, in lieu of call-and—response with AssHatted Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Kelli, a reading from Madame Olivia:

Greetings Starzina ~

Welcome back and thank you for consulting Madame Olivia.

Madame Olivia finds that she always falls hungrily on tips for beating procrastination. If you're seriously stuck, one invaluable tip is so simple: SET A RIDICULOUSLY TINY GOAL for the day (or hour). This sets the bar low, thus inviting you into the project rather than scaring you away. Who cares if you just get a little done: you're in it! You're doing it! You got something done!

It's possible, dear Aries, that in coming days you will run into a brief patch of interpersonal whatnot that plunges you into a run of self-pity and make you feel like B.B. King when he growls out Nobody loves me but my mother and she could be jivin'. If you fall into such a mood, Madame Olivia suggests you not snap out of it but wallow in it. The only way out of a mood like that is through. Poor you. Put on some B.B. King.

Significant numbers for you now: multiples of 7

Madame Olivia sends to you her own positive energy and best wishes for your continued journey.


You'll become embroiled in a steamy office romance next week, which would be better if you weren't the trusty in charge of bringing the warden his meals.


It's going to be hectic and stressful for the next few days, but it'll all be worth it by Friday when the pope excommunicates you for the coolest reason ever.


You're a bit sad that you never get invited to cool parties, but you'll be downright angry when you hear about the awesome ones they hold at your place the second you leave every day.


Remember, a bend in the road isn't the end of the road. While we're on the subject, the circular device on the dashboard can be used to turn your car.


Next week's horrifying accident inspires an outcry for more stringent safety standards in coal-fueled power plans until everyone realizes it was actually just all your fault.


Your whole life is thrown into a terrible new perspective when you learn that Enter The Dragon is not intended to be a romantic comedy.


Your troubles will all be over next week, and what's even better, it all happens so fast that investigators will agree you probably didn't feel a thing.


You'll get a free beverage refill when ordering a large-sized French fries, but really that's going to be about it for you this week.


You should avoid making any financial decisions next week, as the pain you'll be in from all the third-degree flash burns will probably affect your judgment.


While the ideal gas law is certainly important, your attempt to apply it to every situation in your life can only lead to disaster.


Former Rams quarterback Norm Van Brocklin will appear to you in a dream and explain to you at embarrassing length why you're not quite good enough for Bart Starr to appear in your dreams.


All your hard work will finally pay off this week, but not, of course, for you.

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.