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Saturday, November 15, 2014

And you shake it all about

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for SayerDee,  November FiveTeenst, 2014.

Happy Birthday to Becky, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in North Carolina.  We are fairly certain that We at one point knew where in North Carolina, but Our rememberer is not all that it once was, and SitOnOurFaceBook is not being particularly forthcoming.   We are just going to imagine that she is somewhere in East or West North Carolina.  Because being in North North Carolina would be redundant, and being in South North Carolina would make Us wonder how far south in North Carolina One can go before One is actually in North South Carolina.  And is it a gradual changeover, or is there an actual line, where One could have one foot in South North Carolina, and one foot in North South Carolina?  And, if it is an actual line, does anyone ever go there just to do the Hokey-Pokey?

More to the point, do neighbors across said line in South North Carolina and North South Carolina ever chat across their back fence about why they don’t just merge and make one big ol’ Carolina?  Like the rice company? 

(Parenthetically (hence the parentheses), We just Googled the Carolina™ Rice Company on Wikipedia.  Their headquarters?  Is in Allentown.  Pennsylvania.  We call a geographic foul.)

Now, We completely understand why Virginia and West Virginia don’t merge.  We Our Own Self Personally wouldn’t have West Virginia on a bet. But surely there would be benefits to North and South Carolina doing it.  AND North and South Dakota…the only way anybody can tell those two apart is because one’s a top and one’s a bottom.  And We STILL can’t come up with a way to distinguish Vermont from New Hampshire…

Here endeth today’s geography lesson.  (How We don’t have a job teaching grade school, We’ll never know.)

Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Joe, and Glenn, and Shaun, each of whom, turned twenty-four over the last few days, and to John, who started rehearsals for turning twenty-four.

(Before We move on to Our absence (which makes you Henry Fonda (the humor in here is so layered, so nuanced, so multifaceted, it’s like an onion crossed with a diamond (unlike an onion crossed with a donkey, which gives you a piece of ass so good, it makes you want to cry))), an Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! CONTEST!:

We frequently remark upon the fact that We have seen (what We think is) quite a number of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! Gentle Readers nekkid.  However, in November to date, only ONE of the Gentle Readers to whom We have wished a Happy Birthday/Belated Birthday has displayed his (or her (well, okay, HIS)) birthday suit to Us.

Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to guess which one.

One guess per Gentle Reader, and the first correct answer wins a prize.

And now, We know you are waiting with (masterfully) bated breath (see what We did there?) to hear why We have been absent from Bloggonia for two days.

Unfortunately, as one of the basic mission statements of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! is to make YouPeople feel better by comparison, We cannot tell you.

Lettuce just say We’ve had a houseguest, and, being an excellent host, We were busy paying more attention to people in Our actual presence than to people on the InterNetz.

Moving on, in science news, the Washington Post wants you to know that Uranus might be full of surprises:

And, in news from closer to home (and thus, paradoxically, farther from Uranus), Justin Bieber kisses boys:

(Which, if you’ve so much as met Us, nakedly skimmed Us, or even thought about showing Us your birthday suit, you know Is all the mention it takes for Us to drag (Heh…she said “drag”) Our Justin Bieber video in neck-and-crop:


(Also, didja know that We have been e-pisstling e-pissodes of these e-pisstles in one form or another since 2001?  And that the earliest dead-tree archival records from 2004 are now TEN YEARS OLD, and can be found (for a small fee) here:  ?  This particular archival volume of memoirs is especially relevant today, as it contains, amongst (many) other things, an account of Our field trip to The City That Doesn’t Sleep (With Us) for the occasion of the aforementioned Shaun’s twenty-fourth birthday (prior to this one)).

We have precious little else to report (Precious Little is, of course, Chicken Little’s slutty sister.  (Else is her married name. (Vacation time shares are still available in the windmills of Our mind for January and most of February.))), so We suggest that, if you’re in the mood for Our usual humor with a  side of smut, you check out Our recent Joseph Gordon-Levitt Day here: 

or any of the “Elih Tani naked”/”Elih Tani’s penis” chronicles, somewhere in the vicinity of here:

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

Thank Gawd We didn’t stray from the point.


Okay, We just found out that it’s Jimmy Choo’s birthday, so why the hell are We still talking to YouPeople?  Here, in lieu of call-and-response with AssHatted Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Kelli, is A Reading from Madame Olivia:

Greetings Starzina ~

Welcome back. Madame Olivia is happy to see you again.
Madame Olivia would like to remind you that all of us can make a tiny mistake once in a while, in one realm or another. The thing is, that though we might fret, the result can open a whole new way of thinking which can be tremendously positive. The takeaway? To enhance creativity, forget about perfection! Apply this insight as needed and watch what happens.

You know, little Aries, people seem to expect high energy and bombastics from you a lot of the time. What if you don't feel like putting out high energy and bombastics in a particular arena? What if you feel like kicking back and letting someone else do the spearheading? It's ok to hand the reins to someone else and take a time out. In fact it may be essential for you and incidentally for the good of all.
crescent moonWord of the hour: connection

It's been a pleasure to be with you. Farewell from Madame Olivia until we meet again.

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.