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Thursday, April 23, 2015

No one is alone

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s!Periodic!Horoscope! for Turdsday,  April TwennyTurd, 2015.

It being Shakespeare’s birthday, We felt cumpelled to put quill pen to parchment and frut and stret Our hour upon the page, as it (subjunctively) were.  We know you’re thrilled.

We have, of course, entered the sign of Taurus, Our video for which is above.  And here, because it is also brillllllliant, is Our original Taurus video:

Here are the links with which you may share those videos with both of your friends:

And now, in the time-honored tradition (well, since February-or-so, anyway) of Eric’s!Periodic!Horoscope!, We hereby wish Happy Belated Birthdays to the most-mouth-watering birthday suits to have celebrated birthdays since last We e-pisstled.  So, Happy Belated Birthday to Adam, Chris, Doug, Gabe, Jared, Kevin, Nima, and Tom.

 (It occurs to Us that, when We’ve made such a list in the past, We’ve usually actually seen at least one or two of the birthday suits thereon.  This time?  Not so much.  One or more of all y’all oughta do something about that.)

Many of you are no doubt wondering how We Our Own Self Personally spent the anniversary of Our nativity. (We can tell by all the cards, letters, emails, and smoke signals begging Us to return to daily publication.)  And We would tell you, but then We would have to kill you.  Suffice it to say that We were not alone for any part of it, and a lovely time was had by all.

In other news, thanks to everyone who made it out to see She Stoops to Conquer.  If you missed Our review, it is here:

Save-The-Date, meanwhile, for May Twoth, when the WaitStaff will once again be playing The Match Game at L’Etage.  Keep your eye on Our SitOnMyFaceBook page for details.

If We were (subjunctively) to complain about anything (which, of course, We are NOT, as We simply Don’t. Do. That.), it would be that, as a belated birthday present to Ourself, We felt the urge earlier in the week to by Ourself a brand spanking new sump pump for Our basement.

Moving on, 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 over 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 , Our celebrity birthday website informs Us that , in addition to Shakespeare's birthday, it is also the birthday of Joyce DeWitt, Valerie Bertinelli, and President James Buchanan.  Cake all around!

And now, We realize it’s been a while, but here is call-and-response with everybody’s Second-Favorite Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist), Kelli:

Good news!  (Man bites dog?)

The things you've been working toward so ardently are coming together nicely now. (Superman bites wiener dog?)

Okay, you're not quite 'there' yet, (Not only that, We’re only barely ‘here’.)

but there will be some major indications that you are tantalizingly close today.  (Tantalizingly Close is, of course, mere steps away from Glenn Close.)

(Do We even need to say that We have no earthly idea what the fuck We’re talking about?)

How to make the most of this wonderful momentum?  (Placentum?)


Just keep going!  (Maybe it’s Us, but “just keep going” would seem to be the very DEFINITION of “momentum”.  AssHatt.)

Try not to celebrate prematurely, (Are you sure you meant “celebrate”?)

but do give yourself a little congratulatory gift or two. (Oh, please…how many sump pumps does one woman need?)

(Don’t answer that.)

You deserve the positive encouragement -- you are ready to take this ball and run with it. (If some of the Belated Birthday gentlemen from earlier would just show Us their birthday suits, We’ll take ALL the balls and run with them.)

Your usual charge-ahead attitude (That is a lie; We do NOT charge for head.)

and sense of adventure may have been missing in action for a bit, but they come rushing back now.  (We shall alert the media.)

Be ready with a fun plan with friends and flirtation. (And any number of other F-words.)

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.