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Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Next to lovin’, I like fightin’! I like fightin’; it’s excitin’!

Hello, Ducks!

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

Happy Birthday to Ricky, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.

And that’s it…so, no brilliant geography lessons like yesterday.  Sigh. (On the off-chance that you are not a regular Gentle Reader, may We suggest that you peruse yesterday’s e-pissode for your amusement here:  It is approximately 67 % funnier than today’s e-pisstle, and yet still had fewer calories.)

Speaking of yesterday, We are assured (thereby making an ass of you and Red Buttons (what the hell does that even MEAN?)) that Our WorldWideInterWebNetzian Mormon game, Magic Underwear: The Gathering, is indeed in development.  We are only a beta-testing period away from wealth beyond Our wildest imaginings!

The preceding is courtesy of OurSean in Greater Bostonia, who is an actual game designer.  (Despite being an idiot Our Own Self, We know some smart people.)  You can check out a game he co-created (Let’s Quip) on SitOnOurFaceBook here:  AND you can begin waiting with bated breath for the arrival of Magic Underwear: The Gathering!

(Note: please wait with BATED BREATH only.  Do not wait with baited breath, or masturbated breath.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

As if you weren’t bored enough by now, We had two dreams last night which We are going to (briefly) Cher with you.

In the first, We ate an entire roasted turkey with Our bare hands (well, AND with Our mouth).

(See?  That was brief.  And relatively painless.  (Unless you were picturing it. (You weren’t picturing it, were you? (Sorry.))))

In the second, We got a job at the Ack-A-Me.  There was a very long training period, during which it was unclear what exactly Our job was, but, in the end, We wound up working a register.  Except now, the Ack-A-Me was a SuperFresh (it was totally unclear why that made any difference) and much more resembled a casino than a grocery store.

(Vacation time-shares are still available in the windmills of Our mind for October, November, and most of the holiday season.  Book yours TODAY!)

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:

In celebrity birthday news, it is Dame Julie Andrews’s birthday. So there’s that.

You need to take a break — (Okay.)

or at least slow down. (Heh.  See what We did there?)

(Wait…are you still here?  Is this thing on?)

Your energy is better for quiet solo projects (How do YOU spell “masturbation”?)

or for recovering from exhaustion, so make sure that you’ve got a good place to do your own thing. (We can do Our Own thing just fine.  How ‘bout We do somebody ELSE’S thing?)

Someone’s mumbling, (Someone’s mumbling, Lord; kumbaya…)


and from the rumble of their voice, it sounds like fightin’ words. (Oooooh…Kelli dropped her G…. Scaaaaaaaarrryyyyy!!!!)

You’d recognize them anywhere, and you’re not at all intimidated. (“Intimidated” is an interesting word, no?  Especially if One imagines it as a verb involving a guy named Tim…)

(This crap just comes to Us, all sperm-of-the-moment like.  We don’t understand it, We can’t control it, and the next thing ya know, We’ve tagged Our SitOnOurFaceBook friend Tim, and then he has to get a restraining order…)


In fact, you’re already thinking about how to apologize once the debate’s over, because you know you’re going to win. (Have you met Us?  In what universe would We apologize for winning?)

You probably even know how many sentences it will take to completely befuddle the opponent. (TV Trivia:  The Befuddler was going to be a villain in an early episode of the 60s BATMAN TV Series.  He was to be played by William Shatner’s hairdresser.  The character was scrapped after an unfortunate incident involving Burt Ward and a curling iron.)

(True fact.)

It’s not your fault you’re better equipped than they are to handle this — and just about everything else. (Obviously, what We need here is a scapegoat…)

You’re tireless in your pursuit of novelty! (Well, naturally!  Because novelty certainly isn’t what it used to be!)

(The layers and levels of humor in here…it’s just like peeling an onion.  That’s been stuck up the ass of a dead dog.  That’s been lying in the sun for a month. In a tub of milk.)

(Can We paint a werd pixture, or what?)

(Who said, “Or what”?)

Try checking out a movie with two sets of subtitles, then meeting up with old friends for a wide-ranging discussion. (YOU try that…WE’RE here about the blowjob.)

Make them each bring someone! (In other words, have an orgy.  Why didn’t you say so in the first place?)

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.