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Monday, September 29, 2014

That’s peachy for some people

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.)


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.


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.


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:


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:  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.