Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherManacledManchurianMastodonMunchingMoroccanManicottiMidstManholesInManchesterMonday,
September TwennyNinest, 2014.
(Oh, dear.
Only one sentence in, and We already have no earthly idea what the fuck
We’re talking about. This does not bode well.)
(We’ll take “Highly-Underused Verbs” for
$500, Alex.)
(Sorry.)
Happy Birthday to Eric, who turns twenty-four
today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles. (Not THAT Eric…he’s already quite old enough as
it is.)
Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Corinna
(whom We have seen with The Devil), and Gene, and Chad, each of whom turned twenty-four
this past weekend (in one case, for the VERY
FIRST TIME!).
(Please note that all four of the aforementioned
(allfourmentioned?) birthdays took place in The City That Loves You (On Your)
Back, and We bet We STILL don’t get
any cake. (Although We ARE supposed to
have a cocktail with Chad at some point.
(Don’t leave Us dangling, Chad.)))
(Heh.
See what We did there? (We kill Us.))
In other news, when last We spoke on Friday,
We were off to do A Very Nice Thing before heading in for Our shift at the Murder
Mystery Factory. Turns out, We actually
enjoyed Ourselves, in addition to being able to be seen and snubbed by several
luminaries of the Philadelphia theatrical community. Who knew?
It did, however, make for a long day, and Our wagon was draggin’
(whatever the hell THAT means) when We finally got home after strutting and
fretting Our hour upon the restaurant floor.
Sigh.
And now, ladies and genitals, goys and birls,
A Very Special Moment here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! We were going to just tell you the story of
What We Did Last Night, but We decided you might not believe Us, so We have
decided to make you GUESS! Our theory
being that, if you actually guess correctly, that will make it YOUR IDEA, and
then you’ll HAVE TO believe We did it.
So g’head: Guess What We Did Last Night!
Naturally, there will be a prize for the
correct answer. Who knows, We might even
dangle your Chads.
(Never let it be said that We don’t wring a
joke for everything it’s worth.)
(We used to be into S&M, necrophilia, and
bestiality, but then we realized We were just beating a dead horse.)
(That is Our second-favorite joke ever.)
(If you have seen Our live show, LOOKING
FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour, you know what Our
VERY favorite joke ever is. (If you have NOT seen it (or even if you have), why
are you not clamoring for it to appear at A Theater Near You? (Do you have a
defective clamorer?)))
(Our artsy-fartsy Gentle Readers will no
doubt already be aware, but, for the rest of you, The Defective Clamorer is actually an infrequently-produced Moliere
play. It was originally banned in France after its first performance, due to
its graphic depictions of little-known sexual positions involving shellfish.)
(Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!: The More You Know.)
In other news, apropos of
absolutely nothing, this just in from Twatter:
Hey you're cute; I’m ugly. Opposites attract. You have to
date me. Sorry; I don’t make the rules.
Also:
If you think about it, there are more nipples
in the world than people.
Also also lhasa apsos from Oslo, dear
SitOnOurFaceBook: We have, at last
count, 995 “friends”. Many of whom We
have never actually met. So We can
pretty much guarantee you that “People We May Know” do NOT include those with
whom We share only one or two “mutual friends.
Your stupidz are showing. KThxBye.
In other other other news, leapin’ lemurs,
it’s Libra! And not a moment too
soon…Virgo was truly wearing Us right the hell out. Is it just Us, or does
Uranus always feel out-of-sorts for you during Virgo too? Also, for the entire month of Virgo, it
always feels as though someone is snooping through Our underwear drawer. And telling people what they find there. And NOT in a good way.
At any rate, Our Libra video is above, and
here is the link with which you may share it with both of your friends: http://youtu.be/I-sVEr84fyk?list=UUtq4ffsQ_xGu4T5NSA2HfaQ
****************************************
And
heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:
It is Madeline Kahn’s birthday. Is it possible to think of Madeline Kahn and
not smile? We think not.
An
emotional barrage is coming your way (Well, at
least it’s not an emotional barracuda.
That sounds much worse. On the other
hand, We don’t think We’d quite understand an emotional garage. So it’s probably best that it’s a barrage,
then. Although, now that We look at it,
wouldn’t a bar rage be emotional by definition?)
(Vacation
time-shares are still available in the windmills of Our mind for October, November,
and most of the holiday season. Book
yours TODAY!)
— but don’t
avoid it! (Heaven forfend! Anything but THAT! (Reaches for smelling
salts.))
If anything
you may want to embrace it, (Because even an “emotional…” (what
was it?) “…BarcaLounger™” needs a hug?)
as the only
way past this current obstacle is creative destruction. (“Creative Destruction” was, of course, the name of a band
in the early days of punk rock.
Unfortunately, the band members didn’t quite understand the punk rock
genre. Two of them played the accordion,
one guy played the glockenspiel, and a girl with a perm played the
triangle. They used safety pins to
attach their mittens to the end of their parka sleeves. They had a barbershop
quartet for back-up singers, and would only allow their recordings to be
released on eight-track tapes.)
(You’re
picturing this all now, aren’t you?
Bless your heart.)
Roll with
it! (Was that a fat joke?)
Retreating
into the safety of your nest is all you want to do. (Well, unless somebody’s going to try to vomit worms down Our
throat.)
If some
thoughtless person inadvertently pushes your buttons, however, they’re likely
to get far more than they bargained for. (That, as
They say, is what she said.)
You can be
quite a tiger when you’re backed into a corner, (Or a
tank.)
(That was a
joke for old people. Turn up your
hearing aid, and give it a minute. THERE
ya go!)
either real
or imagined, and sometimes you aren’t as careful as you should be about your
claws as you lash out. (One imagines that, if One is “lashing
out”, One has no intention of being “careful about One’s claws”, nor, in fact,
should One, if indeed “lashing” is One’s point.
Fucking AssHatt. Do you even
listen when you speak? Get a goddamn
proofreader up in this bitch already.)
Watching
out for this tendency could avert any unpleasant situations. (We’ve
already had an emotional bougainvillea…how much more unpleasant can it get?)
Everything’s
coming easily to you this morning, (See, that
last bit put Us in mind of Ethel Merman singing “Everything’s Coming Up Roses”. But
then, because it said “morning”, We thought of changing it to “Everything’s Coming Up Mimosas.”)
(We’re just
gonna sit over here and be quiet now.)
but the
evening gets just a wee bit trickier. (Um, that
was LAST evening.)
If you want
to ask out that new hottie or get a reservation at that amazing new eatery, you
ought to take care of it ASAP! (“Eatery”? Seriously, “EATERY”? Is it just Us, or does an “eatery” sound like
it should have a trough?)
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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