The hills are alive

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Friday’s Eve (for that “not-so-fresh” feeling),  September TwennyFivest, 2014.

Happy Birthday to Michael, who turns twenty-four today in New York.  New York, New York…The City That Doesn’t Sleep (With Us).

Happy Birthday also to Van, who also turns twenty-four today, in El Lay.  Which We always imagine to mean WeHo.  Because We can.

Additionally, Happy Birthday to Hope, who additionally turns twenty-four today.  In Orwigsburg.  Pennsylvania.  Which sounds, if you say it out loud, less like a place than like a question…try it.  See?  It’s practically “Alas poor Yorick”.  Which isn’t a question, but would be a really cool name for a place.  “Where are you from?” “AlasPoorYorick, Pennsylvania.”

Does anyone have any idea what the fuck We’re talking out?  No?  Good…moving on…

Last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday also too to Skye, who also too turns twenty-four today, and with whom We’ve recently reconnected through The  Magic Of Social Media.  He now lives, it turns out, in somewhere called Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina, and, if you think it doesn’t tickle Us to be able to say that We know someone who lives in Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina, you simply haven’t met Us.

Meanwhile, in a no-doubt-futile effort to obtain Ourself a few drops of the milk of human kindness that flow so freely everywhere but here, We are on the verge--

(Note to Self: invent, define, and popularize new phrase: “on the virgin”.)

--of doing what will, being an episode of Our Life, turn out to be An Incredibly Stupid Thing.  Sigh.

Also, dear SitOnOurFaceBook:  We have, at last count, 995 “friends”.  Many of whom We have never actually met.  So We can pretty much guarantee you that “People We May Know” do NOT include those with whom We share only one or two “mutual friends.  Your stupidz are showing. KThxBye.

In other news, We are having Ourself a frosted brownie for breakfast.  Again. Because We are a grown-up, and We have that power.  As We mentioned yesterday, We had a friend for dinner Monday, and consequently have leftover frosted brownies, amongst other things, to eat for the rest of the week.

(Please note that, when We say We “had a friend for dinner”, We do NOT mean that We ate him.  (Also, “frosted brownie” is not a euphemism for anything.  (Although, now that Our attention has been drawn to it, it certainly should be.)))

In other other other news, leapin’ lemurs, it’s Libra!  And not a moment too soon…Virgo was truly wearing Us right the hell out. Is it just Us, or does Uranus always feel out-of-sorts for you during Virgo too?  Also, for the entire month of Virgo, it always feels as though someone is snooping through Our underwear drawer.  And telling people what they find there.  And NOT in a good way.

At any rate, Our Libra video is above, and here is the link with which you may share it with both of your friends:  http://youtu.be/I-sVEr84fyk?list=UUtq4ffsQ_xGu4T5NSA2HfaQ

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In random news from the WorldWideInterWebNetz:

English is confusing because "booty call" and "butt dial" mean very different things.‏

Also:

Condom = “cumbrella”

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And heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:

The quantity of famous celebrity-type people born today is SO truly staggering (how did We not know before that Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas have the same birthday?) that it would almost be easier to list people who were NOT born today.

We were not born today. (Or yesterday, for that matter.)

(Heh. See what We did there?)

Also, apparently, no one We know in Philadelphia (at least as far as SitOnOurFaceBook knows) was born today.  Thereby, it would seem, severely curtailing Our chances of obtaining cake.  Thank Gawd for “frosted brownies”.

And now, as Our day is getting away from Us, and since those drops of the milk of human kindness are still a few days away, and because Our day is getting away from Us, here, in lieu of call-and-response with AssHatted Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Kelli is a reading from Madame Olivia:

Greetings Starzina ~

Hello again. Madame Olivia is happy to receive you.

Madame Olivia doesn't want to interrupt your labors but this might be a good time to think about the spiritual aspect of things: the Oneness, the Great Other, the Timeless, the Unseen. A moment of open-ended reflection in the day, every day, will suffice, and you will be suffused with widened perspective and refreshment. On a personal note, every morning Madame Olivia enjoys doing one yoga pose and brain-singing a line from a song: Who knows One?/ I know One/ One Spirit,/Of heaven and earth. It opens up the day ahead.

Little Aries, even in the best-regulated lives Eros can wreak a bit of havoc. Eros is the life force and we must have her, warts, stinger, and all. Do not be surprised by a sudden change in your ocean of love in the near future, be it a gentle wavelet or a tsunami. It is life exerting its force and for sure your boat will be lifted. Sit tight and ride it out. Everything will calm down.

Portentous color for you now: any purple

Our time together today is drawing to a close. Madame Olivia bids you au revoir and good luck until we meet again.

Namaste, MotherFuckers.

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

(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://sett.com/astrogeek895/.  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.

                                                                                                                                     

We are Si-a-mese if you prease

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Friday, July 12rd, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Kathleen, who turns twenty-four today right here in the suburbs of The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  Also Happy Birthday too to Michael, who also too turns twenty-four today, also too somewhere here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles. Happy Birthday additionally also too to Steve (did she say “tutu”?), who additionally also too turns twenty-four today, albeit somewhere in Chicago.  (Notice how We cleverly drew attention away from the absence of a Chicago joke by including “albeit” and “tutu” in the same sentence.  (We are a Highly-Trained Professional…do NOT attempt this at home. (However, if you place a dot in the middle of each “O” in this paragraph, and connect them with a pencil, you will reveal a picture of Catherine Zeta-Jones singing “All That Jazz” while riding Mrs. O’Leary’s cow.)))

Didja know that “gullible” isn’t in the dictionary?

Didja also know that, if you say “gullible” reeeeeeeaaaaaallllyyyyy slowly, it sounds just like “orange”? 

We have precious little to report today.  We are off this evening to do Our murder mystery, where We shall be working with the third of Our three sons.  All We know is, the unseen father of these boys must have some serious genes, because these boys can seriously wear them some jeans.  Just sayin’.  We are thinking of writing a spinoff of the murder mystery, in which We remake My Three Sons. Because Fred MacMurray ain’t got nothin’ on Us.  Except in this version, the boys and We run a clothing-optional tropical resort, and Uncle Charlie is---

Ooops…was that all in The Outside Voice?

Hit Us up if you would like to come see Our murder mystery.  Summer being a slow time in murder mystery dinner theatre world (go figger), We may even be able to get you discount tickets.  Plus, you will get to see Our Three Sons.  In Their Jeans.  Of course, the fatal flaw of this show is that, at any given performance, We only have one son at a time.  We shall solve that problem with Our next murder mystery script, in which the boys shall play extremely suspicious Siamese triplets.  At a nudist colony.

In other news, you will be happy to note that We continue to procrastinate writing Our Fringe show.  Although it DOES have a title: Looking for Uranus: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour.  How, you may well ask, can We come back, when We’ve never been gone?  You’ll have to see the show, to see if We’ve figgered that out.  We HAVE, however, written the script for the KickStarter video to assist in the financing of said show, coming soon to a computer near you.

In other other news, as you can see,  Our latest video, Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: CANCER 2013 is above. 

If you’ve been paying attention (oh, relax; We know you haven’t), you will note that this is the fourth installment in a (so far) four e-pissode story arc.  Because We’re a writer like that, and stuff.

We would like you to take this link to said video   http://youtu.be/e-EpBAfem_M and email it to your friends.  Or put it on their SitOnMyFacebook pages.  Or, if they are having a Cancer birthday, wish them a happy birthday with it.  Seriously, people…is this so difficult?

And here is the HorrorScope:

Happy Richard Simmons’s Birthday, everybody!

This is a bad time to rush through work  (What, you want We should still be doing this murder mystery at midnight?  Screw that noise!  The faster We talk, the sooner We drink.)

— it’s too easy to make big mistakes that way!  (Like it wasn’t already a big enough mistake that We let people know that We know who Fred MacMurray was.)

You need to take everything one step at a time (Also, one DAY at a time. (Because We also know who Bonnie Franklin was.))

and make sure that you get it all right the first time. (Oh, well, fine.  If all We have to be is PERFECT.)

 Embrace the little fires that might be erupting throughout your day, today!  (Yeah.  Because THAT sounds like a good idea.)

Sure, they could cause you a few headaches,  (But those will pale by comparison to the lovely third-degree burns.)

but they also provide some action that’s been missing in your life. (Okay, this horoscope is seriously starting to depress Us.  Shut. Up. Kelli.)

It’s been a long time since you’ve been really challenged,  (Oh, We are so very challenged…you have no idea.)

and you could really use the physical exercise that the day might require.  (No, thank you.)

Your blood will be pumping and your brain will be clicking.  (“Clicking”, you say?   Should We seek medical attention?)

You take care of your possessions and finances, (Our who?)

and you should maintain your love life in the same way.  (Or get three sons to do it for you.)

Make sure to do everything possible to keep your mind, body and soul in great shape!  (Jeebus Cripes, did they let Richard Simmons guest-write this for his birthday, or what?)

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

(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.

                                                                                                                                     

Who is that b1tch, hollering “CLOWNS!”?

Greetings, Enterprising Renter Inflates Condom-inium---


Here is your horoscope for Monday, June 14, 2010 (Happy Fag Day, y’all! (What? Oh. Never mind.)):


(OhMyDearz, what a busy, active, jam-packed, fun-filled weekend We’ve had! Why, We barely even know where to start.)


(Our Our-O-Scope.)


(Heh. That was a little humor there.)


(Here is a little story about Hollywood. (Parenthetically (hence the parentheses), We wish We could find an article that We read around the finale of Lost, which was all about how the movies have become so dumbed-down that people are deserting them for serial (mostly cable) television.):


(Once upon a time, Hollywood accidentally gave an Oscar™ to Some Ugly Guy for appearing in some Holocaust movie. Because there can never be enough of THOSE, ya know; they’re practically The New Western. Said Ugly Guy thus continued to hang about Hollywood, accumulating, according to Wikipedia, a resume of roles he was considered for but did not play. He did not, for instance, play Spock in the latest Star Trek Wars, nor did he play the Joker in the latest Batman. He did, however, get cast as one of the titular (heh…We love that word) brothers in The Brothers Bloom, which has been lying about Our living room waiting to be seen for months now. (You will have guessed, from the plural “Brothers” that there were more than one. There were two, in fact. The second one was less ugly. But more potato-like. (We are avoiding using their names in the hope that, if We don’t name them, they’ll go away.) The female love interest? Had Asperger’s syndrome. (The character, not (presumably) the actress.) Because THAT’S hot. ) Fifteen minutes into the thing, We were able to predict the entire rest of the movie. We did not, however, WATCH the entire rest of the movie, as We turned it off when the leading “lady” was forced to utter something akin to the following: “You are constipated in your fu(king soul.” And the Oscar™ for Best Screenplay goes to…)


(In other cultural news, We dropped by the Tony™s briefly last night. Because We? Are g@y. (Not that there’s any evidence of that.) We were forced to turn THAT off when Catherine Zeta-Jones, who We were unaware had a speech impediment, took a hatchet to Send in the Clowns. She sang it much as though she were (subjunctively) Patti LuPone. Singing The Star-Spangled Banner. On the deck of the Titanic. As if her being the twin that had the Toni™ depended on it. Gad!)


It will be all too easy for you to get exactly what you want -- and to give your dear ones exactly what they want, too. (Mmm-hmm. Unicorns farting cinnamon-scented rainbows all around! And an extra-well-hung unicorn for Catherine-the-Great-a-Zeta-Jones! (Has it really been an entire month since We’ve done a Catherine the Great joke? (Come on and blow Gabriel, blow!))


(That was a Patti LuPone callback joke, combined with a very suBtle punctuation joke. And if ya think THAT’S funny, you should hear Our knock-knock joke about knockers.)


Does this mean you'll be in a Santa frame of mind? (That depends…is “sliding down the chimney” a euphemism?)


Maybe. (She sees Us when We’re sleeping, she knows when We’re awake…)


Who cares when the goodies arrive, as long as they arrive? (I saw Goodies Arrive with the Devil.)


(That was a little Creussical: The Musical joke. For the Arthur Miller fans in the house.)


It's not your imagination. (So We were just imagining that it was Our imagination?)


You're due for some recognition -- and for that, it's definitely about time. (Is that recognition accompanied by remuneration? ‘Cause seriously, folks…)


Have that meeting with the powers that be as soon as possible. (We’ll get right on that.)


They want to help. (Mmm-hmm. Folks can’t even answer Our emails, and We’re expected to believe somebody wants to help Us.)


All you have to do is show up with yet another brilliant idea. (Drive-thru wh0rehouse.)


(What? BRILLLLLLLLiant!)


(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:






http://www.humorscope.com




which twin has the cowgrass?)