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Tuesday, October 7, 2014

The yellow rose of East Texas

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for GoodPieRupeeTuesday,  October Sebbenst, 2014.

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

Happy Birthday also to Kevin, who also turns twenty-four today.  In somewhere called “East Texas, Pennsylvania”.  There really oughta be a law.  Seriously…if they don’t want to be called “Pennsyltucky”, they gotta stop naming places things like “East Texas”.  Gawd!

In other news, for those of Our Gentle Readers who like guessing games (which, from the thunderous response, would appear to be exactly one of you (hi, MizDonna!)), you may recall a week or so ago when We asked you to  Guess What We Did Last Night.  (MizDonna, for those curious Gentle Readers whose curiosity has not yet caused the untimely demise of their pussies, guessed that We had finally met Johnny Depp.  Yeah, like We could keep the gaping maw that is Our mouth closed for this long about THAT.)

Well, guess what, ladies and genitals?  We did it again!  So again We say: Guess What We Did Last Night!

In other other news, despite Our tender age of twenty-four, We were one of the very first people (after Al Gore, of course (and George Takei)) to find Our way onto the WorldWideInterWebNetz.  We have tried always to be an early adopter of social media platforms, whether We understand them or not, as clearly, in Our profession, One’s ability to whore Oneself on all media platforms increases the funds One finds under the lamp on the nightstand.

One of the social media platforms We had enjoyed playing with (although not fully comprehending) had been FourSquare, which One uses, primarily through One’s smart(ass)phone, to check in at different locations, thereby informing One’s friends that One is somewhere cooler than they are.  We primarily enjoyed using this whilst travelling, when We would look at the list of businesses etc. in Our vicinity and check in at the most oddly named one.

Then one day, on some excursion during the past year, FourSquare stopped working for Us.  Oh, We could call it up, and do everything associated with it, EXCEPT We couldn’t check in anywhere.  We figgered We had pissed off the FourSquare gods with Our frivolous check-ins at random oddly-named places where We had never been.

We haven’t been able to check in for at least eight months.

Until today.

Imagine Our surprise when We picked up Our phone to see which of Our many friends were ignoring Us today and discovered Our FourSquare app mysteriously open to the check-in screen.

To celebrate, We promptly checked in somewhere nearby called The Nuthouse.

True story.

(Speaking of planets, Uranus.  (No, not really…We just said that because there was urine in the preceding story. (But speaking of planets, We just heard though the WorldWideInterWebNetz grapevine that Pluto may be a planet again.  (The jury is still out on Goofy.))))

Here, meanwhile, speaking of the WorldWideInterWebNetz and the wisdom therein, is this, from an attractive young SitOnMyFaceBook friend:

 Unless you're an astronaut, you have free time.

In other news, We have seen exactly one of the people named in today’s e-pissode naked.  For extra credit points, guess which one.

Meanwhile, 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 birthdays, Evan Longoria was born today.  Eva Longoria was not. Evan, Eva…Eva, Evan…it’s Uma-Oprah for the new millennium. They (Eva Longoria and Evan Longoria, that is) will be co-starring in a remake of A League Of Their Own.

It will no doubt surprise everyone that We just made a (sort of) sports joke.

It is also Vladimir Putin’s birthday.  Speaking of sports, ol’ Vladimir is a champion Hokey-pokey player.

You put your left hand in, Putin, you put your left hand out, you put your left hand in, Putin, and you shake it all about…                                  

It will no doubt surprise no one that We just made a (sort of) fisting joke.

Also, Yo-Yo Ma.

Those jokes write their own selves.


Sleep will elude you as you wrestle all night with existential questions of mortality and meaning as well as a couple of random wrestlers.


You'll start to think the people who want you to choose between hugs and drugs have set up a false dichotomy after discovering you can actually have both at once.


Remember, only you can give yourself permission to be happy, although the people in charge of giving you permission to use the bathroom may have something to say about that.


You had no idea the love life of the nuthatch was so vigorous, so obsessive, and so likely to result in the death of people like yourself who just like to watch birds do it.


You hate the phrase "We're through the looking glass here, people," but you'll have to use it anyway this week when you and a bunch of people go through a looking glass.


The stars hate to be the ones to tell you, but the problem with you is certainly not that you love too much.


People will say you've hit a new low even for you, which is depressing, as they clearly haven't been paying attention to a thing you've done.


You'll score a bunch of great stereo equipment and furniture from your neighbors, who happen to die when you go into their house and stab them and take all their things.


You'll finally give in to a persistent coworker's desire to, as he puts it, "spread you wide open, throw your feet up on the mantel, and really go to town," but to your great dismay there seems to be sex involved.


You knew that moving to the suburbs would expose you to a whole new kind of culture shock, but you had no idea there were people who didn't get drunk to mow the lawn.


Romance will bloom in your sign this week, coating everything with a thin layer of pollen and making a mess before germinating into the overripe and rotten fruit of routine.


There will be no major changes in your life this week, which given the fires and barracudas, is pretty terrible news.

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.