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Thursday, October 23, 2014

Because I’m tacky






Hello, Ducks!




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



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



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



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


                                    
That’s three, count ‘em, THREE, birthdays right here in Our very Own Personal proverbial backyard, and whaddaya wanna bet We STILL don’t get any cake.




Does everybody dream about peeing on things because you’re sleeping and you have to pee, or is it just Us?  (Who said “just Us”?  Piss off!)




(Heh.  “Piss off”.  We kill Us.)



In other news, only one person will have any idea why We’re saying this, but We trust it will amuse the rest of you anyway.  To paraphrase Cuba Gooding Jr. (the strangest people have Best Supporting Actron Oscars™, no? (Paging Marisa Tomei, Marisa Tomei to the white courtesy phone please…)) in Jerry Maguire (how odd is it that We’ve referenced that movie twice in as many days? (Here’s a repeat of yesterday’s Jonathan Lipnicki picture, in case you missed it:



 )



“Show Us the penis!” (We’ve gotten so enmeshed in parentheticals in this paragraph that it may sound as though We are saying, “Show us the penis!” TO Jonathan Lipnicki.  We aren’t.  (Although (parenthetically (hence the parentheses)), if you’re reading this, Jonathan, We would certainly have no OBJECTION to seeing your penis, should you be inclined to show it to Us.)



As if that weren’t (subjunctively) all funny enough, even though none of you (save one) has any clue what We’re talking about, it also reminds Us of a joke.



Cuba Gooding Jr., Marisa Tomei, and Jonathan Lipnicki walk into a bar…



The comedy in here is so fine, so nuanced, so layered…it’s like an onion.  Or a layer cake.  Or an onion layer cake.



Meanwhile, We have leapt feet first, nipples-to-the-wind and tits akimbo, Jonathan Lipnicki’s penis (ooops) into Scorpio, and Our Scorpio video is above. Here is the link with which you may share it with both of your friends: 





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And heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:



In celebrity birthday news, it is Weird Al Yankovic’s birthday.  We’re not entirely sure what exactly to do with that information.




And now, because reasons, here, in lieu of call-and-response with the AssHatted Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Kelli, is a reading from Madame Olivia.  (We love ANY reading that contains a suggestion to “Think Uranus”.):




Greetings Starzina ~

Welcome back. Madame Olivia is happy to see you again.

Madame Olivia has a splendid insight into handling anxiety or worry. Worry is usually about a future event. True, one can worry about an ongoing problem, but it is forecasting doom that causes the worry. The trick is to focus on action that can be taken now. If there is no action that you can take (and want to take), for example to help a loved one with a problem, then worry is counter-productive. It really can make things worse as it pulls you into the system of dysfunction. So if you find yourself worrying about something obsessively, back out; stay calm; do what you can; and eschew worry.

Well, dear Aries, Madame Olivia can see that you are venturing into some new territory these days, which is perfectly consistent with the planetary movement: think Uranus. Despite your much-vaunted esprit, you too are sometimes assailed by doubts. Go ahead and entertain them: some choices loom in the near future which merit close inspection. Just because people are expecting you to leap in doesn't mean either that you must or that it's a good idea right now. Let your head rule your heart in the coming days.

Madame Olivia senses that the color yellow is going to be important for you

Godspeed and good wishes from Madame Olivia until next time.





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!)

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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.