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Friday, November 7, 2014

‘Cause “Lisa” with an “S” goes “Sssss” not “Zzzzz”

Hello, Ducks!

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

Happy Birthday to Bryan, who has his final dress rehearsal for turning twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.

Why, it seems like just a year ago that We last celebrated Bryan’s birthday with a Picturing Bryan’s Birthday Suit Extravaganza.  Here’s a little acid flashback to that time…

{Way-Back Machine Sound Effects}

Happy Birthday, meanwhile, to Bryan, who does not EVEN turn twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  (That’s Bryan-With-A-“Y”, mind you, much like the Liza Minnelli song, “Liza With A Z”. (Or, as We have just this moment chosen to imagine it, “Bryan With A Y-Front”.  Because there’s nothing like a cute boi in his tighty-whities to perk up an otherwise dreary day.))

(We should point out, as a disclaimer of sorts, that We have not actually SEEN Bryan in his tighty-whities, and, consequently, We have no idea of the degree of accuracy of the “Bryan With A Y-Front” moniker. (In view of Our recent spate of “Picturing Gentle Readers Naked” Weeks, We should also point out, disclaimer-wise, that We have not seen Bryan OUT OF his tighty-whities. (We should also point out that, prior to his receiving his notification that he was appearing in today’s e-pissode, We suspect that he was not one of Our habitual Gentle Readers.)))

 (Now, of course, that he IS a Gentle Reader, at least for today, We shall feel free to picture him naked with reckless abandon.  Possibly for an entire week. (THAT oughta keep him reading!))

 Somewhere here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back, Bryan With A Y-Front just experienced afrisson.

(Oh, look it up.)

Having, in the past few paragraphs, used the words “moniker” and “frisson”, We shall inform you that, if We were (subjunctively) a str8 boi e-pisstler, this e-pisstle would at this juncture take a turn for the pornographic, with a story about a Frawnchwoman named “Monica Frisson”, and all of Our str8 boi Gentle Readers would pop boners.

Look at Bryan’s Y-front NOW!

(Can We make something out of nothing, or what?)

{/Way-Back Machine Sound Effects}

Is anyone else amazed at how quickly  #alexfromtarget  has become Not A Thing Anymore?

We were going to excise this next bit today, but then, since these e-pisstles have become more and more like Helen Keller falling down in a forest, who the fuck cares what We do?  Also, in honor of Bryan, who is, in fact, a heterosexual man doing musical theatre, albeit, in Our imagination anyway, in his birthday suit:

In completely unrelated news, here’s a little ditty by Stephen Sondheim, sung by Jeremy Jordan.  It is completely safe for the workplace, assuming, of course, that bursting into tears is acceptable in your workplace.  (But then, it’s a workplace…how could bursting into tears NOT be acceptable?) 

This video is actually an example of an extremely rare genre entitled “Heterosexual Men Doing Musical Theatre”. We’re going to send it out to all the heterosexual men We know who do musical theatre.  Both of whom are very nice.  (You know who you are.)

Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!: the WorldWideInterWebNetz’s only official source for “Elih Tani naked” and “Elih Tani’s penis”.  (If you have no idea what We’re talking about (lord knows, We don’t), please see here: 

and/or 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.

In celebrity birthdays, today is the birthday of both Billy Graham, who invented the Graham cracker, and Marie Curie, who invented the curio cabinet.  It is a little-known yet significant fact that, in all of recorded history, no one has ever kept his or her Graham crackers in a curio cabinet.

(Betcha wish We’d go back to Bryan’s Y-front NOW, don’t’cha?)


You can’t make as much progress as you would like today, (We can barely gress to begin with.)

and that could mean serious frustration when things start to get weird. (No, see, weird would be finding out that, instead of Y-fronts, Bryan wears pink lace panties that say “Tuesday”.)

(THAT would be weird.)

It’s a good time for you to go over your plans.  (Let’s see…tomorrow, We’ve got laundry, world domination in the afternoon, and the murder mystery in the evening…not much on for today, though.)

There are too many strangers in your daily life, right now! (Oh, now, see…strangers are just naked people you haven’t met yet.)

(Actually, now that We type that out, it sounds downright neighborly, dunnit?)

It’s time for you to acknowledge those familiar faces and try to turn one or two of them into casual acquaintances. (Gray skies are gonna clear up; sit on a happy face…)

So smile and say hello the next time you stand next to that person in the elevator for the fiftieth time.  (Especially if you’re carrying an open straight razor.  Then, reach out and press the “Stop” button.)

(People LOVE that.)

They recognize you, you recognize them — so what’s the holdup? (That’s Bryan with a “Y”, not Brian with an “I”, ‘cause Brian with an “I” goes…)

(Okay, so the “Liza With A Z” song doesn’t really work with Bryan With A "Y".)

(Back to the underwear thing.)

It’s easy to break the ice. (And even easier to break the ice’s heart.  No, really…tell the ice you just want to be friends.)


It’s all about living life to its fullest, and doing your best to connect with another human being.  (Especially if that other human being is a Fuller™ Brush salesman.)

(We have no goddamn idea where that came from.  We have no idea what a Fuller ™ Brush salesman even is, or if they still have them.)

(We just Googled “Fuller™ Brush salesman” on Wikipedia, and the results were every bit as boring as you might imagine.  With the exception of the bizarre co-inky-dink that, before he invented the Graham cracker, Billy Graham was a Fuller™ Brush salesman.)

(That is a TRUE FACT.  Because We do not make shit up here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!)

You’re so busy fretting about how you appear to others that you don’t let your natural, fabulous self shine. (Do We appear to you to be the sort of person who “frets”?  We fret not, neither do We tat.  If you prick Us, do We not bleed?  Do We not wear mink-lined pink lace panties that say “Tuesday”?)

(Slap Us…We’re hysterical.)

Just chill and have fun — and be sure to disagree rather than simply nodding along. (We have no idea what that means, so We’re simply gonna picture Bryan’s birthday suit and sign off.  Happy Bryan’s birthday suit to Juan Anne Dahl!)

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.