Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for JustAnotherManateeMonday, November 19, 2012.  Happy belated birthday to Kathy, who turned twenty-four yesterday.  Also, happy also belated birthday to Jacquie, who also turned twenty-four also yesterday.  They are each, of course, twenty-four-and-a-day today, but We can’t think of a cunning linguistic way to wish them that.

The WorldWideInterWebNetz are a very strange place.  But then, you probably already knew that.  For example, on Twitter (where, We parentheticalized, We recently added Our 100^th follower, and, if you are not one of Our followers, you should be, because We twuly tweet some twemendous twaddle (did We really just do that?  We are SO sorry…))…where were We before We got caught up in parentheses?  Oh, yes…on Twatter…er, Twitter this morning, We learned that Cher?  Is going to the dentist today.  Also?  She is not looking forward to it.

Now, We don’t know about you (well, actually, We do…We’re psychic), but back in the day, when We were a wee ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulist) watching The Sonny and Cher Show on black and white TV, We never dreamed that someday, We would know when Cher was going to the dentist because of some omniscient machine in OurHouseWhereWeLive. (We dreamed, like all other normal children, that We would know when Cher was going to the dentist because We would be living next door to her, and, as she got into the limo in the morning, she would wave at Us over the hydrangea bushes and call out, “I’m off to the dentist this morning!  I’m not looking forward to it!” in that That’s-So-Cher way that she has, and We would know that, when she came back, she would come over for lunch and regale Us with wacky stories of what happened at the dentist’s while We ate Spaghetti-Os™.)

What?  We can’t help it that you had a dull childhood.  That’s what comes from having no imagination.

Switching gears completely (because there’s really only so much thinking-about-Cher’s-teeth that One can do when all One has had is black coffee), from The Sometimes You Don’t Even Need A Punchline Department, Justin Bieber’s date for the American Music Awards?  His mom.

Meanwhile, in a completely random aside:

Dear Str8 Boi Readers:

When you say “Fantasy Football”, We automatically picture a gay porn film set in a locker room.

KThxBye.

In still other news, today is apparently both Meg Ryan and Jodie Foster’s birthday.  Which is causing Us to imagine both Meg Ryan as Jodie Foster in The Jodie Foster Story AND Jodie Foster as Meg Ryan in The Meg Ryan Story. The latter being worth the price of admission for the When Harry Met Sally orgasm scene alone.

I’ll have what she’s having.

Of course, the question on every inquiring mind is, who should play Billy Crystal?

Here’s the HorrorScope:

(In other news, there is absolutely no humor to be mined from Indira Gandhi’s birthday.  Trust Us.)

You have got to move forward quickly — otherwise, things are likely to fly away from your control. (Ah, yes, the famous illusion that We have any control.)

 That doesn’t mean that you need to dominate,  (Domi-natrix, natrix, natrix…)

(That, of course, was to be sung to the tune of “Dominique”, that song by that singing nun called The Singing Nun.  Meanwhile, being An Inquiring Mind Who Wants To Know (no, really…who wants to know?), We just Googled “what  ever happened to…” on Wikipedia, and found out that she killed herself.  True fact.  Happy Monday.)

just that the future is more enticing than the past.  (It is also so bright, We’ve got to wear shades.)

You’re usually not a very impetuous person, (That’s because We don’t have any pets.)

(What?)

but would it do you any harm to act more spontaneously? (Fine.  We shall schedule that for 4:30 this afternoon.)

You can achieve your goals just as efficiently when you just run out and act on them. (What is this “run” of which you speak?)

There are only so many situations you can anticipate, so why try to cover all your bases? (Have you seen Our ass lately?  If we did indeed play baseball, We could, in fact, cover ALL the bases.)

 Right now you have positive energy on your side, and there’s an opportunity you just can’t pass up.  (It’s the one with the big knockers, innit?)

 Consider initiating contact with a certain hard-to-get type. (Yes, but what about that pesky restraining order?)

You’ve been assuming that they’re aloof, (How can One tell the difference between a loof and a loofah?)

but they really just might be shy. (Lord knows, We are.)

 Make it low-stakes and you’re likely to get the response you want.  (And, even if not, mmmm…steaks.)

                           

(Your Your-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com)

 

(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:  http://agskylab.blogspot.com/.  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!)

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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.

                                                                                                                                    

So kiss me goodbye…honey, I’m gonna make it out alive

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Just Another Matlock Monday, February 27, 2012.

Andy Griffith…dead or alive?  We have no idea. (Still alive and eighty-five.  We just Googled him on Wikipedia.  Because that’s the kind of full-service information hooker We are here at Erix Daily WhoreOScope.)

Like you care.

So, it has come to this.

We should warn you, We did not watch so much as thirty seconds of the Gay SuperBowl last night, so if you came here this morning expecting pithy commentary on Angelina’s anorexia or Animatronic Billy Crystal, you are about to be sorely disappointed.

Has anyone ever actually said “pithy” and not thought “pissy with a lisp”?

“Pissy Withalisp” was, of course, the original name for Butterfly McQueen’s character in Gone With The Wind. (We didn’t want you to be TOO disappointed about the absence of movie coverage this morning.)

So, it has come to this.

We have just taken a call wherein We learned that We shall go to Lindenwold, New Jersey later this week and earn a hundred dollars.  We are just like a cheap hooker.  (Without the sex.  But then, you knew that.  We’re pretty sure that, whenever you think of Us (if you think of Us at all), it’s without the sex.)

Speaking of you, and you not thinking of Us, We should like to point out that the ever-so-mild winter that We have been having does not ameliorate (how’s that for a five-dollar word?   Give Us five dollars, dammit!) Our Seasonal Affective Disorder one iota, one whit, or one jot (you all did just sing that to the tune of “One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer”, did you not?), Seasonal Affective Disorder being associated with the absence of light as opposed to the presence of revolting winter weather.  Naturally, We are aware that We are in the home stretch of this year’s SAD, but that doesn’t help much when We it occurs to Us, as it did this weekend, that…you know what, never mind.

So, it has come to this.

Here is the link that you will persist in not using to share Our Starzina’s Time of the Month: Pisces video with your friends:  http://youtu.be/qqEjYYBFxG4 That would be the self-same link that, to the best of Our knowledge, no one has EVER used on one of their friends’ SitOnMyFaceBook pages to wish said friend a happy birthday.  We would blame that on the presence of The Bieber, except that the same is true of all of Our other TotMH videos.

Meanwhile, like a phoenix from the ashes of this cruel misuse comes this thought: what exactly would a movie script entitled Blame It On The Bieber  entail? (Our creative juices are now flowing; We hope We didn’t get any on ya.)

And now, Charlene Tilton sings “So It Has Come To This”.   Which is, of course, the sequel to the Peggy Lee classic, “Is That All There Is?”   And which, conversely, has absolutely nothing to do with “I Am Hennery The Eighth, I Am”.  (Hennery the eighth, I am, I am.  I got married to the widow next door; she’d been married seven times before.  And every one was a Hennery (Hennery!); there never was a Willy or a Sam (No Sam!) .  I’m her eighth old man, I’m Hennery.  Hennery the eighth I am, I am.  Hennery the eighth I am. (Second verse, same as the first… (Oh…is that song stuck in your head now?  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)) Alternatively, the HorrorScope:

 

Stick to whatever you’re doing today (Johnny Depp?)

 

— it’s important that you show that you can persevere even in the face of certain failure. (If the failure is certain, wouldn’t you wanna start persevering in the other direction?  Just sayin’.)

 

Someone is watching, (No.  No, they’re not.)

 

and they need to see persistence and optimism.  (Well, then, We’re afraid they’re going to be severely disappointed. )

 

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

 

 After a few weeks of turbulence, (No need for nervousness…it’s just a little turbulence.)

 

(Thank you, Kelli, for reminding Us of the Snakes on a Plane theme song (speaking of famous fillums), truly one of Our favorite songs of the past decade.  We shall be downloading it forthwith.)

 

one of your friendships has reached a lovely cruising altitude, lately. (Is it just Us, or does that sound vaguely dirty?  Care to clue Us in as to which of Our friends We’re about to be vaguely dirty with?)

 

You two are moving into a very nice phase. (Are you looking at Our moon?  ‘Cause We’re looking at Uranus.)

 

Having conversation is easy, and you’re communicating so well together that you can almost read each other’s minds. (You are beginning to frighten Us.)

 

Celebrate this situation together with a night out on the town, or a special dinner out. (Mmmm…dinner.)

 

You can go on a date with a friend — after all, isn’t a date just a time you schedule to spend exclusively with someone you like?  (How the hell would We know?  We haven’t been on one since the Clinton administration.)

 

So, it has come to this.

 

 (Your Your-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com)

(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:  http://agskylab.blogspot.com/.  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.

Toot-Toot-Tootsie, goodbye!

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monday, February 28, 2011.  In honor of last night’s Gay Super Bowl, today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Lana Turner Tina Turner Pancake Turner Nat Turner’s Come And Gone is the most glamorous pixture We could find (because everyone else is already using the pixture of James Franco in the dress).  While it might appear to some untrained eyes to be a pixture of Yours Truly Starzina Her Own Self, it is actually a pixture of Our sister, Tipsy.  Bask in her glamour, if you dare.

We, of course, missed a large portion of the Gay Super Bowl, as We were in attendance at Himself’s show.  Not that any of YouPeople would KNOW that We were in attendance at Himself’s show, but that is where We were.  (Himself, We might add, is, you might say, not pleased. (You might also say “royally pissed”.  Which you might follow up with a “queen” joke, inciting Himself to punch you in your face.  Your call.))

We joined the Gay Super Bowl “already in progress”, as they say, around about when some animatronic version of Billy Crystal was chatting with Bob Hope.  Then Celine Dion sang about dead people, they gave a bunch of awards to The King’s Speech, and a bunch of retarded kids sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow.  Some of the retards were dressed in green, and the rest were dressed in blue.  We don’t know about you, but where We come from, two colors do not a rainbow make.  Leave it to Hollyweird to dredge up the only costume designer who’s also a member of the Ku Klux Klan.    Or perhaps the retards’ costumes were designed by the same idiot who did their “choreography”, which appeared to consist of depriving them all of their antiepilepsy medication for two weeks prior to the performance.  Gah!

Despite Our Brittanian roots, We Our Own Self Personally were rooting, not for The King’s Speech, but for The Social Network.  Which makes a lovely segue (what’s a segue?  About a pound and a half.), as the next few things We intend to complain about involve SitOnMyFaceBook.  First offal, (heh.  See what We did there?) We have said it before and We will say it again:  if you are so upset that you are changing your SitOnMyFaceBook status hourly to tell Us all how upset you are, then you are just not upset enough.  However, if you are FatAss McBitchyStein, who spent the brief period during which We were in each other’s orbit attempting to thwart Us at every turn and make Our life miserable, and you are changing your SitOnMyFaceBook status hourly to tell Us all in great detail about the trials and tribulations of what you pitifully refer to as your life, you will simply have to forgive Us if Our response is to laugh and laugh and laugh.  Stupid cow.

Micro$oft Weird™ keeps changing “Us” to ”US”.  We are a queen, not a country, Micro$oft Weird™; try to keep up.

In other SitOnMyFaceBookian news, didja know that, if One refuses to engage with TheCrazy, TheCrazy is subsequently entitled to interpret One’s non-behavior as though any number of non-existent conversations and incidents have taken place?  Yeah, neither did We.  Until recently.  Seriously, boyz and gurllzz, We were mastering social media while you were still fashioning your first homemade crackpipe out an old TV dinner tray; leave Us out of your trauma-drama.  KThxBye.

In still other news, people lie.  But then, you probably knew that.

Meanwhile, it is so dark outside that it appears the world may end at any moment.  So We shall hasten to publish this epistle, so that the world may end, not with a Ubangi, but with a wimple.

Try not to let any opportunities slip through your fingers today. (Indeed not.  We shall be slogging out in the monsoon later to go to the CVS, where they have several items they will be paying Us to remove from their store.  Beyond that, We shall be speaking with a potential tutee (a tutee being, for those not in the know, one who is tutored (as opposed, of course, to one who is tooted, which We mention only to allow YouPeople the opportunity to make some crass skin-flute joke.  You’re welcome))) and thanking Our lucky Chicken With Stars that this evening’s rehearsal was cancelled.)

 That means you need to pay close attention (I’m sorry…what?)

and be flexible enough to move quickly when the time is right. (Have you seen Us lately?  Our “flexible” and “quickly” days are clearly behind Us.  As is a midget with a wheelbarrow to haul Our big fat ass around.  Every time We toot, We have to get a new midget.)

(Surely you realized that that toot joke was going to continue to haunt you?)

Things are moving now!  (Toot!  Toot!)

(Heh.  We kill Us.)

Your impatience has been growing lately, (HOW DARE YOU?  We have no time for your impudence.  Get thee behind Us, midget!  Toot!  Toot!)

(There’s a whole midget and tooting motif now, didja notice?  We?  Are an artiste.)

and today you might feel as if your life is moving at a frustratingly glacial pace. (We are pretty sure that there are days when We could race a glacier and lose.  Today, for example, would appear to be just such a day.  (In other non-sequiturs, The Amazing Race is neither amazing nor a race; discuss. (On the other hand, We would tune into that show a lot more often if it were (subjunctively) called The Amazing Racist.)))

But this change of rhythm is a very good thing. (Who could ask for anything more?)

(The old folks got that, yes?)

Give yourself time to acclimate to the slower pace, and soon the process will feel downright pleasant. (Ya know, if you re-read the preceding sentence a few times, it gets dirtier every time.  Just sayin’.)

With less speed and less noise, (Where’s the fun in THAT?)

you will be able to listen to yourself (Why?  Nobody else does.)

and conserve your energy much more effectively. (Oh, yes.  The conservation of energy.  Now THERE’S a sure-fire good time, eh?)

If you just race through the day, (Amazingly?)

you may never know the romantic wonders you’re running past. (But We bet We’d wonder about them.  Wonderingly.  (We would toot on this entire concept, but only if We could be guaranteed that pieces would fly out simultaneously.))

Find time to linger over that latte instead of taking it to go (Or finger over the fatte.  (Hey, sometimes you just have to go where The Muse takes you.))

— someone awesome might catch your eye!  (And here, We thought the fact that We had a glass eye was a well-kept secret.  (Kiss Us quick, We’re Sandy Duncan.))

(TOOT!!!)

*****************************************************************************    

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

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.