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Monday, June 15, 2015

I put a spell on you…

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s!Periodic!Horoscope! for JustAnotherManiacallyManicuringManlyManateesInManchurianMantillasMonday,  June Fifteenf, 2015.

Oh, Our dears, We have so many things to tell you!  Now that We do not e-pisstlize every single day, We find Ourself storing up tantalizing tidbits to share with Our Gentle Readers until We could just burst!  We feel just like a pus-filled pimple, prior to poppage, Poppets! (That there was a poetic werd pixture We painted just for you.  (You’re welcome.))

So lettuce get right to it, shall We?  Happy birthday to The Lovely And Talented Owen, who is being wished a Happy Birthday in these hallowed pages for His Very First Time.  (That’s why We’re being so gentle.)  Unlike Our other birthday celebrators, he does not even turn twenty-four today.

Happy birthday also to Robert, who DOES turn twenty-four today, in, We believe, Wilmington.

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Our very Own Mike Doh, who also turns twenty-four today, in, of all places, Utah.   Where, it being Equity Day Off, We picture him sitting with one hand on the remote and one hand down his Magic Underpants, binge-watching episodes of My Favorite Mormon.

(Actually, that’s pretty much the way We ALWAYS picture him, but don’t tell him We said that.)

And now, because it takes absolutely no provocation whatsoever for Us to whip this out (heh), here is the video We were in with the aforementioned birthday boy:

And now, We shall say “and now” again.  Also, 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 James, Peter, Doug…

…Doug, We feel compelled to point out, shares a birthday with Our future ex-husband Johnny Depp.  Also, We have been meaning to share the following video with you, and, as We think the star thereof bears some resemblance to Doug, now is as good a time as any. (The video is Safe For Work, unless sobbing uncontrollably is frowned upon in your workplace):

…Happy Belated Birthday also to Kevin, and to David, and to David.  (We could have said “David” just the once there, but there are two Davids.  One is named Crawford, and the other performs as Joan Crawford.  They share the same birthday.)

Small world, innit?

Before We stray from the subject of birthday wishes, We realized in the course of writing this that, of the gentlemen wished Happy Birthdays above, We have seen exactly none  of them in their birthday suits.  

What the hell is up with that? All of you gentlemen whom We have NOT seen in your birthday suits, please send Us pixtures of the birthdays suits in question.

We are now, of course, in the sign of Gemini, Our video for which is above.  And here, because it is also brillllllliant, is Our original Gemini video, which was the very first video We made:

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

(One of Our neighbors is having their carpets Stanley-Steemered, and the noise is driving Us to distraction.)

And now, a few random odds and ends before We get to the major thrust (oooooh!) of today’s e-pissode:

This coming Sundee is Father’s Day (you’re welcome).  We received an email from some purveyor of Father’s Day-type gifts, with the subject line, “DAD LOVES FISHING!”  We had an unfortunate WTF?!? moment when We misread said subject line in a pornographic fashion.

(We’ll just pause here while you all sort that out for your own selves.)

From the Eric’s!Periodic!Horoscope! Health Department, here is this:
…also Safe For Work, until you begin to follow the advice therein.

In other news, is it just Us, or is every other damn person on SitOnMyFaceBook suddenly missing? For almost a damn month now, it seems like everybody’s gone missing, and that’s all anybody posts about. (Well, okay, there was a week of Caitlyn Jenner, and a week of the black lady who’s not really black, but other than that.)

How is it possible that so many grown-ass people have all gone missing at the same time?  It isn’t, that’s what.  We have ridden SEPTA, and We are here to tell you, ain’t nobody missing.

And yet, SitOnMyFaceBook yammers on…this one’s missing, that one’s missing, the other one’s missing…you would think the fucking Rapture had happened.  It’s like that Kirk Cameron movie, My Left Behind.

Speaking of Kirk Cameron’s behind, why do alleged heterosexuals like Kirk Cameron, Rick Santorum, Pat Robertson, etc., etc. go on and on about gay sex all the time?  Seriously…they talk about gay sex more than any ten gay people We’ve ever met. Wethinks the lady doth protest too much…Rick Santorum in particular wants it up the ass so bad, he’s got an application in to be a Muppet.

ThankYouVeryMuch, We’llBeHereAllWeek, DontForgetToTipYourWaitress.

Well, that escalated quickly, dinnit?

Now, onward and upward to today’s raison d’être:  We Watch Bad Movies So YouPeople Don’t Have To (You’re Welcome).

This past weekend, We took a break from Our binge-watching of the brilliant UK series, Skins, to catch up with the American cinematic cultural milestone that is Fifty Shades of Grey.

Wow, did it stink.

As there is no plot, you may forge boldly ahead even if you plan to torture yourself by viewing said fillum, as there will be no spoilers.

The song under the opening credits is “I Put A Spell On You”, sung by Annie Lennox. (Annie Lennox has taken shits that are sexier than this movie.)  Naturally, this song reminded Us of the fillum Hocus Pocus, which We had recently rewatched.  Bette Midler in Hocus Pocus is sexier than this movie.

We then meet Our protagonists, Christian Grey, and Anastasia (seriously) Somebody-Or-Another.  They each look as though they were chosen by a focus group, so unmemorable/unremarkable/inoffensive are their faces. As are their bodies (muscular but only so muscular, breasts perky but only so perky, etc.)…in fact, they each have only one distinguishing feature: his is his nipples, hers is her waist when her back is arched.

A focus group is sexier than this movie.

The major point of the whole thing is that Christian keeps trying to get Anastasia (seriously) to sign an S&M contract with him.  In order to persuade her, they boink a number of times, usually with her tied up (so the aforementioned back can arch), once while he taps her tushie with a riding crop.

As Jane Fonda says in 9 to 5, “I’m into M&Ms.”

M&Ms are sexier than this movie.

She never signs the contract.

Ooops…apparently, We lied about the spoilers.

The most fatal of the movie’s fatal flaws comes early on, when they introduce Anastasia’s (seriously) roommate, and Christian’s brother.  The roommate and the brother are hotter than Anastasia (seriously) and Christian by a factor of, oh, We don’t know, let’s say INFINITY, and they immediately start having an affair which happens ENTIRELY OFF-SCREEN.  To the point where, as One is contemplating the tepid slap-and-tickle that is supposed to pass for hot sex between Anastasia(seriously) and Christian, One cannot help but think, “One wonders what the roommate and the brother are up to…perhaps there is another movie entirely, where they get naked and read the phone book to each other.”

The phone book is sexier than this movie.

Because Anastasia(seriously) and Christian have ABSOLUTELY NO CHEMISTRY with each other. Apparently, they ran out of money for the focus group before it could tell them that. 

 Another thing they don’t have?  Genitalia.

Well, that’s not entirely true.  We do, just ONCE, mind you, glimpse the beginnings of Christian’s peen, as he takes of his clothes for the eleventy-kabillionth time.  The poor “actress” who “plays” Anastasia (seriously), however, for all the time she spends spread-eagled, clearly was born without a vagina.  Or perhaps, and this is more likely, her vagina was Photoshopped™ out, because all We can recall is wide ol’ big open spaces between her muscular (but not TOO muscular) thighs.

Photoshop™ is sexier than this movie.

So, in case you missed Our point, don’t see this movie.  Because We are sexier than this movie.

(You’re afraid now, aren’t you?)

Speaking of pornography, this just in:  We just got, in Our snail mail, a card from Playboy magazine.  They are offering Us a full year of their literary endeavor for a mere twelve dollars, “to attract readers with preferred demographics”.

We shit you not.

Moving on, didja know that We have been e-pisstling e-pissodes of these e-pisstles in one form or another since 2001?  Every scintillating e-pissode from 2005, for instance, (now TEN YEARS OLD) can be found in charming dead-tree format here: ?  

In celebrity birthday news, today is Our future ex-husband Neil Patrick Harris’s birthday.  Also, one of the Duggars was born today.  (Although One could pretty much say that ANY day, yes?)

Thank Gawd We didn’t stray from the point.

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.