Google+ Followers

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Oh, dem golden codpieces! Part Three

Hello, Ducks!

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

Happy Birthday to Jillian who turns twenty-four today somewhere in Greater Bostonia.

Happy Birthday also to Brian, who also turns twenty-four today, in Washington.  DC.  As presumably distinguished from Washington, AC, which We imagine (being geographically challenged as We are) is the one on The Left Coast.  And as presumably also distinguished from Washington AC/DC, which is either the one that can’t make up its mind or the one on The Highway To Hell.

(We are up to Our very vagina in outdated pop culture in here this morning, no?)

Happy Birthday also too to Pat, who also too turns twenty-four today in New York.  New York, New York, The City That Doesn’t Sleep (With Us).

And last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Our granddaughter, Mo’Niques, who also turns twenty-four today, also in The Big Apple Pie Don’t Smell Too Nice, You’d Better Wise Up, Janet Weiss.

We realize that newer Gentle Readers will be shocked to learn that We have a twenty-four year-old granddaughter, when We are only twenty-four years old Our Own Self Personally. 

They will no doubt be further shocked that said granddaughter is a ginormous black woman.

It is just another symptom of the troubled times in which We live.

 Babies having babies. 

In time machines.

Four whole birthdays, and not a single one in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles…where the hell are We gonna get cake?


Switching gears, We are not going to stop talking about Two Street: A Tale of Star-Crossed Mummers  until We hear that every single available ticket has been sold.  (They only play through Saturday, so it’s not like We’re talking about an eternity or anything.)

But, just in case you would like some third-party opinions in addition to Our Own, here is a collection of their reviews to date (please note that We, too, are quoted therein…and, if you happened to miss Our e-pissode of yesterday, click on the link):

And here is where you go to buy tickets to shut Us up: 


In other Fringe news, The WaitStaff Sh!ts The Bed!
 was SOLD OUT (and very well-received)  both Friday and Saturday nights, 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: 

The show continues tonight at 8 at L’Etage, and, if you perchance have tickets for this evening, you will encounter the extra added attraction of Us Our Own Self Personally working box office.  Because We’re multitalented like that.


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

In other other news, We have Our schedule at the Murder Mystery Factory for September.  We will be performing this Friday, September 12 and 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.)

And heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:

In celebrity birthday news, Ryan Phillippe is forty today.  (We’d still fuck him.  (You’re shocked, We know.))

You'll have yet another disastrous first date when you get something stuck between your front teeth and a crosstown bus.

The reality turns out to be okay, but when you heard the phrase "taco truck," you pictured a giant taco that was also a truck.

While it's true that someone in Baltimore loves you, this is less a reason for a jaunty T-shirt than a cause for genuine concern.

The stars hear your unasked question, and the answer you seek is: "If they keep losing their opener to the Pirates, way more than 103 years."

You'll be spared a potential source of great conflict and divisiveness in your life this week when it's born dead.

Don't worry: There is nothing wrong with you that emergency brain surgery and a quadruple bypass within the next 90 minutes won't solve.

Your lips are red and chapped because you keep licking them. To balance this out, lick yourself raw everywhere else.

Next week will call for many, many pairs of leather pants, which would be fine with you if they didn't have to be the kind of pants with asses in them.

The sudden spike in the salmon population is no surprise to anyone who knows the real reason you like swimming so much.

You'll soon be feeling like your old self again thanks to a sudden and tragic relapse into alcoholism.

A regular routine can provide much-needed structure, but you might be better off if you didn't start every day with a guy trying to saw your head off.

It's probably best if you just put your head down and keep sharpening pencils for the next few years.

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.