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Wednesday, December 24, 2014

May your daze be merry and bright

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay,  December TwennyFourst, 2014.

Happy Christmas Eve (for that “not-so-fresh” feeling) to all of Our Christmassian Gentle Readers.  We hope that all of your stockings are well hung by the chimney by Cher, in hopes that Jack Nicklaus remembers to Nair™.

A big Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! thank-yew to Our Ass(tromalogcial) Ho(roscopulist) colleague AstroGeek, all the way out in Oh Hai, Ohio, for pointing out that, in Our rush to publishing Our e-pisstle of yesterday, We completely neglected to observe that We had shifted from Sagittarius to Capricorn.  Thanks to his timely observation, the correct (Capricorny) video is now above.

Here is the link with which you may share that Capricorn video with both of your friends:

And here, for your further edification, is Our very first Capricorn video:

Upon reflection, these two videos are amongst Our much more densely-plotted cinematic efforts, due to the fact THAT Our director actually is a Capricorn (although quite unlike the unseen character from the videos).

We often ponder, in the endless time afforded to Us by the fact that We are almost universally ignored, how many of Our Gentle Readers actually realize that, if viewed in order, Our videos actually have ongoing plots and storylines.  Then, of course, We realize that Our Gentle Readers are all imaginary, and we curl up into the fetal position…

Speaking of being ignored, We are reprinting these birthday wishes from yesterday, which went oddly uncommented upon:

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Belated Birthday to Our ex-son-in-law, IceyPop, who also turned twenty-four recently, and who has, according to SitOnMyFaceBook, has been vacationing somewhere called FuckIt, Thailand.  We saw some pictures of him from said vacation (although in none of the pictures was he (unfortunately) actually Fucking It), and We were forced to marvel to Ourself that, now that he has reached the ripe old age of twenty-four, he is actually even better looking than he was when We first met him, all those years ago, when he was only twenty-four. He looks every bit as fresh, and buff, and dewy (and, by “dewy”, of course, We mean “We’d do him”)…sigh.

We are also reprinting the following, wherein We asked for advice from Our Gentle Readers:

In other news, We are, of course, in The Hinterlands for The Holidays.  So, naturally, Our Holidailies™ have gone right to Hell.  We have discovered, additionally, that The Sainted Mother’s Internet Explorer (does anyone..still use…Internet Explorer?  (Does anyone…still wear…a hat? (Kiss Us quick, We’re Elaine Stritch))) will not display Our Blogger Who Art On Google.  Our WorldWideInterWebNetz would not help Us clear up the issue (ideas, anyone?), so We are now using Chrome, as One does.

Being in The Hinterlands, We are spending many lovely hours abed, having epic dreams. In one of them the other night, We found Ourself cavorting with OurSeanWhoArtInElLay.  And, by “cavorting”, we mean…exactly what you would imagine We would mean, you foul-minded little perverts.  (Following the aforementioned “cavorting”, we are looking forward even more eagerly to Our 2016 dinner date.)

In other news, here is the e-pissode from last Christmas season that everybody seems (according to Our Google-O-Meter™)  to be revisiting all of a sudden:   Enjoy!

On a positive note, check out Our Best Of Holidailies™ Award  here:  

and go to the e-ntry directly here:  

Moving on some more, 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: ? 

Thank Gawd We didn’t stray from the point.


In celebrity birthday news, it is Louis Tomlinson (of One Direction...DUH)’s birthday.  (There is a brain cell you’ll never get back.)


You're sick and tired of being treated like a child, except for the sexy parts where they change your dirty, filthy diapers.


Remember: If you give in to the impulses to do whatever you want with your life, you'll become one of those happy, satisfied people you resent so much.


You may treasure the sense of mystery you have about the future, but really, learning the days of the week won't ruin the magic.


Travel and adventure are in your future this week as your captors continue crossing state lines to stay one step ahead of the law.


You'll wake up naked in a hotel bed between the corpses of a prostitute and a district attorney and have no memory of what happened, but presumably it's the same situation as last time.


You'll soon experience redoubled energy, a renewed sense of purpose, and a profound rush of confidence, proving once again that cocaine cannot be trusted.


Your sneaking feeling that people are out to get you just shows how delusional you are, as you should know damn good and well that they're out to get you.


They say lightning never strikes twice, which doesn't explain what's been happening to you at three o'clock every Wednesday for the past three months.


You always dreamed of being a human cannonball, but you had no idea that advances in artillery technology would limit your career to a very small number of appearances.


They'll say what you did to all those nurses was unspeakable and ugly, but you know in your heart they're all really just jealous.


You may have great quantities of bravado, élan, and puissance, but there's no way to be sure until you find out what those words mean.


The stars foresee many amazing things ahead of you this week, but really, they're too good to just tell you about in advance.

(Who wants cake?)       

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.