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Thursday, September 18, 2014

Blame Canada

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Friday’s Eve (for that “not-so-fresh” feeling),  September Eighteenst, 2014.

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

Happy Birthday also to Dan, who is in rehearsal for turning twenty-four today, also right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.

Happy Birthday additionally also too to OurAmericanCousin Liz, who is also in rehearsal for turning twenty-four today (who let all these youngsters in here?).  In Idaho. (And how often, within these hallowed e-pisstles, do We get to say that anything happened “in Idaho”?)

(Idaho, for those of Our Gentle Readers who are geographically challenged (as We are), is a Canadian province wedged between Saskatchewan and Krakatoa.

(Canada, meanwhile, is an extremely large country to Our north.  It was established in 1837 by Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy for the express purpose of keeping Alaskans away from the normal people.  It is so large, in fact, that it is actually possible for two people from Canada to be unacquainted with each other.  For example, We are fairly certain that OurAmericanCousin Liz does not know Our WorldWideInterWebNetzian friend Nat (hi, Nat!), who lives in the Canadian province of Scova Notia, where he is active in politics and is handsome.

(Scova Notia is separated from Idaho by several other large Canadian provinces, as yet unnamed and uninhabited, most of which contain wildlife preserves, and one of which functions, inexplicably, as a stand-in for New York City in movies and television shows.

(Co-inky-dinkally, OurAmericanCousin Liz is originally from Annapolis, You-Ess-Ay, and We have just learned from mapquest (or maybe okcupid…We don’t recall) that there is an Annapolis in Scova Notia as well.) )))

(Is Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!  educational or what?)

(Who said, “Or what”?)


Switching gears, in other news, We are having a preposterous and very easily distracted month.  It seems that every time We start to do something We are interrupted by something else We need to be doing, until that in turn gets interrupted.  It’s as though We have the attention span of---oh, look, a balloon!


In other news, The WaitStaff Sh!ts The Bed!
has been consistently SOLD OUT (and very well-received)  , so if you want to curry favor with Us by showing up  (because mmmm….curried favor) get your tickets now and/or quick, fast and in a hurry:  (That assumes (thereby making an ass of Uma Thurman) that there are any of said tickets left; We have no idea.) The show plays twice more, Friday and Saturday at 8 at L’Etage, and, if you perchance lay your hands upon tickets for Friday, you will encounter the extra added attraction of Us Our Own Self Personally working box office.  Because We’re multitalented like that.

We Our Own Self Personally will next be performing in Our  murder mystery at the Murder Mystery Factory  on Friday, September 26.  If you are interested in seeing Us perform in same, holla at Us.  (For those naked skimmers who may not be aware, We have been promoted to A Position Of Power at the Factory, and so will be performing somewhat less.)


Speaking of lemurs on Uranus,  (howZZAT for a segue?), here is a flashback to Our FIRST Virgo video, the one with the naked angel:

And heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:

In celebrity birthday news, We had planned to stick with Our Canadian theme, and find famous Canadianese whose birthdays were today.  Until Our celebrity birthday website distracted Us with the news that today is the birthday of Our future ex-husband, Patrick Schwarzenegger.  Who, it would seem, has taken up modelling.  Holy merry mugger of dogs.

It has been a while since We’ve done call-and-response with AssHatted Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Kelli.  So right away We give you some:

This is a good time to think about home and what it means to you. (Well, ya know what They say: “Home is where the hard-on”.)

(They say the weirdest things, don’t They?)

In fact, (Didja ever wonder why nobody ever starts a sentence with “In fiction”?)

you may get a message from family or those closest to you that draws you backward a bit. (Is it just Us, or does something about the phrase “draws you backward a bit” just SCREAM, “Engrish is my second ranguage!”?)

It’s for the best!  (Which is ALWAYS true, especially when it’s said with an emphatic exclamation point.)

(Except not.)


After thinking about big changes for so long and not breathing a word to anyone, the solution suddenly dawns on you. (Get tougher rats.)       

If you really want to change, (If everybody’s being different, isn’t it different to stay the same?)

(Jean Paul Sartre WISHES he were (subjunctively) as goddamn existential as We are. (Of course, first, he probably wishes he weren’t dead.))

you can force yourself out of your rut (Sometimes you feel like a rut; sometimes you don’t.)


by moving long distance. (Me ruv you rong time.)

(Kiss Us quick, We’re Anna May Wrong.)

It means you have to change your residence, your job, your relationships and your habits. (Oh, is THAT all?)

If it sounds refreshing rather than frightening, (Yeah, not so much.)

you need to get busy, (From your lips to God’s voicemail.)

because it’s past time. (But if it’s past time, how can you tell WHEN it is?)

When it comes to your outlandish singles lifestyle, (Which is the EXACT phrase people use when they observe Our life.)

press pause. (Izzat a euphemism?)

The economy isn’t exactly full steam ahead just yet, so cut back on spending. (We are still trying to figger out the sound of one nickel rubbing together.)

(We so poor, We can’t even pay attention.)

Entertain at home (We would love to.  What time is Patrick Schwarzenegger getting here?)

instead of spending lots of time (Wait…wasn’t it past time just a few sentences ago?  Learn English, fercrissakes.  Damn Canadians.)

and money at the bar. (“The bar”.  As though there’s only one.)

Figure out your debt and start paying it down. (Wow.  You go wit’ yo’ bad seff, Auntie Climax.)

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.