Ya gotta have heart!

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay, January Twenty-Turd, Twenty-TurdTeen.  Happy Birthday to Deedee, who turns twenty-four today in Northern New Jersey, where We would imagine it is even colder than it is here in Our black, black heart.  It is not, of course, Hump Day, Monday having been a holiday, but it is, We are informed, National Pie Day.  So Happy Pie Day, y’all.

“PieDay!”  We hear you ejaculate.  “But it isn’t 3/14!”

“No, indeed, it is not.”  We retort.  (Or perhaps, since it is Pie Day, We should retart.  (We shouldn’t retorte, because that would be cake.  (Does anybody know when National Cake Day is?))) “But the National Pie Council (and, seriously, how do We get a job on the National Pie Council, counseling people, “Have some pie!”?)  has declared 1/23 National Pie Day, because (wait for it)…making pie is as easy as 1-2-3.”

Except for the “pie” part, doesn’t that kinda just make ya wanna stick a fork into your jugular vein?

Cake lovers, meanwhile, will be distressed to hear that National Cake Day?  Isn’t till November 26.  We Googled it on Wikipedia for you.  Because that’s just the kind of full-service, one-stop-shopping Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! We aim to be for you.  You’re welcome.  (It occurs to Us that, although it will not be true this year, November 26 could be Thanksgiving.  Who the hell would want National Cake Day to fall on Thanksgiving?  Nobody eats cake on Thanksgiving.)

We just got two hundred and fifty words out of National Fucking Pie Day.  Which is good, because there’s not a single other damn thing going on in what passes for Our life.

Here is a little Aquarius fillum, for Our birthday Aquarians:

And here are the HorrorScopes:

In other news, Chita Rivera is eighty today.  Rita Moreno could not be reached for comment.

You need to speak from the heart  (And you need to stop speaking from Uranus.)

— but you need to do so in a way that acknowledges that you still have a brain!  (We could while away the hours, conferrin’ with the flowers…)

(Sorry.)

Make sure that your people (It’s been a while since she’s delusionally referred to Our imaginary people.)

(Micro$oft Weird™ doesn’t seem to think that “delusionally” is a word.  Has you MET Us, Micro$oft Weird™?  Is you delusional?)

(Having just typed “delusional” and “delusionally” so many times, One is now attempting to construct a joke in which One conjugates Dom Deluise. (Relax…One is failing to do so.))

get the message in a way that only you can deliver it.  (Wouldn’t it be interesting if the meaning of “deliver” were (subjunctively) analogous to the meaning of “debone”?)

(Vacation time shares in Our mind are available all the way through March.)

(Heh.  We just mistyped “shares” as “sharts”.  Vacation time sharts.  Vacation …all I ever sharted… Vacation shart to get away…. (That was a little musical number for Our Sistah Ovella, who is under the weather.   A little The Go-Gos, to cheer her up.))

(We are now thinking up song lyrics in which We could replace “heart” with “shart”.  For example, “My Shart Belongs To Daddy”.  Sung by Miss Mary Shartin.  Or “Shart Like A Wheel”.  By Miss Linda Ronshart.)

(Oh, you love Us, you know you do!)

(Oh, wait…is Kelli still talking?)

Trying to always make everything equal between you and your friends is a total waste of time. (Much like this horoscope.)

You have to acknowledge the fact that sometimes you’ll give a little bit more and sometimes they’ll give a little bit more.  (You’ve got to give a little, take a little…(wait for it)…and let your poor shart break a little…)

(We kill Us.)

It will all equal out in the end, so stop trying to make it equal now. (Don’t tell Us what to do.  Bitch.)

You could be creating stress and turning a good day into a day full of nickel and dime arguments.  (A dime?!?  Where’d We get a dime?!?)

Just because life isn’t always fair doesn’t mean that it can’t be fun.  (In your shart of sharts, you know dat’s true.)

Anyone capable of keeping up with you is extremely happy to be along for the ride today.  (This face seats five.  Also, it’s leaving in five minutes…be on it.)

You’re even more attuned to your world and connections with other people today — and you’re extra hot!

(Whatever.  AssHat.  You just know We could not leave you without a song from the American musical theatre…”One Hand, One Shart” from West Side Story.  (You know, the one about the Jets and the Sharts.))

 (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.

                                                                                                                                    

Everything free in America, for a small fee in America

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for TooncesTheDrivingCat, January 10, 2012.  Himself is still fast abed, and who can blame him?  If everyone’s New Year’s Resolution is going to be “Thwart Himself at every turn”, he should at least get a warning, so he knows to stay in bed till March or April.  Jeebus.

As you may have sensed, We got nothin’.  Christmas is but a distant memory, the New Year is apparently a personal affront, and nobody seems to be getting into the Martin Luther King Day spirit.  Not a single one of Our neighbors has so much as a Martin Luther King Day front window display this year.  So We can only imagine how they’ll react when We finally decide to go caroling.  And not even the Dollar General has a decent selection of Martin Luther King Day greeting cards or gift wrap.  Lord knows where We’re ever to obtain Our Martin Luther King Day tree.  Sigh.  What’s a Seasonally Affective Disordered Person to do?

We shall pause here, whilst you pixture Us Martin Luther King Day caroling.  Because We live to amuse you.

Speaking of amusements, We have finally abandoned Season Three of Damages, and have taken up instead the latest season of Dexter. Because nothing brightens up Our January like a little serial killing.  (Well, perhaps not nothing.  There’s a little cereal killing as well.  Because there are any number of people We’d like to imagine choking to death on their Cocoa Puffs™.)  To ease the transition, (and to take the sting out of having to admit that there exists television that is smarter than We are) over the weekend We watched Burlesque. Which is a musical fillum starring Animatronic Cher, and that Latina singer…you know, Chita Moreno Rivera Rita Chiquita Banana.  (We used to get her confused with that woman who sings with the Black Eyed Peas, but then We realized that she’s the one with the mustache.)

Sunday on CBS: an all-new season of The Amazing Racist.

Speaking of Chinese food, with six you get egg roll.  Also, ten placenta off with coupon. Also,  go watch this:

 And share it with your friends.  Both of them.  (Really, is it too much to ask that Our fame should be spreading just a little?  Does NO ONE understand how the WorldWideInterWebNetz work?  We don’t make these videos JUST so bois in G-strings can parade up and down Our stairs.  (Oh, did you miss the Virgo edition?  Check it out at: http://www.youtube.com/user/RickinPhilly?feature=mhee )):

http://youtu.be/qQ4zUrLmBPg

Something Something Charlene Tilton.  Alternatively, The HorrorScope:

You need to deal with a parental issue. (Aaaannnddd as if it weren’t (subjunctively) all bad enough, Bitch is trying to peddle Us somebody else’s horoscope as Our Own.)

That could mean dealing with your kids, your parents, or needing to intervene between two generations of some other family. (It could also mean that winged monkeys will fly out of Our ass playing The Star-Spangled Banner  on the glockenspiel.  Or it may not.  (What the fuck kind of ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulation) is “it may mean…”?))

(You’re picturing that winged monkey thing now, aren’t you?  Pervert.)

You’ve got what it takes!  (It takes a thief.  Also, it takes two hands to handle a Whopper™.  Also also, it takes two to tango, in a tutu.  So if We can just get three friends to come over, We can dance around and steal your Whopper™.)

(Tutu…tango…Robert Wagner’s Whopper™…somewhere in there is more comedy.  And if We had the proper utensil, We’d scrape it out.)

There is a huge risk that someone will overreact to something you say today or that you will overreact to something you hear. (HOW DARE YOU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?  SHUT UP!  WE’VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OUT OF YOU!!!)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

But don’t try to censor yourself to prevent a blowup. (Goddamn fuckin’-A right, bitchass.)

You will just end up confusing yourself (How is that even possible?)

and diluting your message. (No texting in the shower.)

Carry on as you normally would, (You heard the lady.)

and deal with any emotional outbursts as they come. (The latest emotional outburst around here was all you old folks weeping when you realized you understood why Robert Wagner appeared in that paragraph earlier.)

Roll with the punches, (And have punch in your Rolls.  Doesn’t that sound a lot classier?)

and you might even have fun coming up with a solution.  (Well, first We’d need a problem.)

Not feeling great about a recent relationship decision? (No…why SHOULDN’T We make an effort to expand The List Of People We’ve Seen Naked?)

Maybe you should rethink your choices. (Wait…We have choices?!?)

If it’s not set in stone, change your mind. (Into what?)

It’s important to feel 100 percent sure about the big stuff.  (So We DO sweat the big stuff?  We’re confused.)

 (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.

Younger than Springtime for Hitler am I

                                        

                                                                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                                                           

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monday, April 18, 2011.  Happy birthday to Marilyn, who turns twenty-four today.  And happy belated birthday to Himself, who turned twenty-four over the weekend.   Himself is exceedingly grateful for all the calls, cards, good wishes, and SitOnMyFaceBook messages He received in honor of the occasion.  And, since We know you are all Inquiring Minds Who Want To Know, We shall tell you a little bit about His nativity festivities.  The Big Day started out much earlier than anyone had anticipated, with an unexpected 4AM Birthday Poop.  The most exciting thing about that for Our intrepid Birthday Boy was that He actually woke up prior to the poop occurring and, consequently, was able to enjoy it to the fullest, having betaken Himself to the receptacle wherein such efforts are usually made, instead of remaining fast asleep in His bed.  Because, birthday or no birthday, Starzina Starfish-Browne does NOT change anyone’s poopy sheets.   Having divested Himself of inordinately large quantities of poop in an exceedingly satisfying manner, He went cheerfully back to sleep for a number of hours, whilst visions of SugarBabies danced in His head.

Regular (heh) Gentle Readers will recall that SugarBabies are similar in principle to SugarDaddies, except that they are rich and YOUNG.

Meanwhile, Our story has been derailed by Micro$oftWeird™, which not only does not recognize “poopy” as a word, but also is suggesting that We replace it with “pope”. And, while the epic Birthday Poop was certainly a religious experience (in the secular sense), such a replacement would no doubt turn it into a very different story indeed.

Later in the day, there was champagne, and that was very lovely.

And now for a completely different story, entitled The Little Rotary Cell Phone That Couldn’t.  We are aware that many of Our Gentle Readers of varying regularities (poop!) have taken the plunge and obtained smart phones, which are apparently the best thing since sliced bread.  (For all We know, said phones may actually slice bread, probably after baking it, too.) We Our Own Self Personally have slogged Ludditically on with Our plain old rotary cell phone, which still accepts nickels and whose number is BUtterfield-8.  We ask very little of said instrument, except that it take the occasional photo of the inside of Our pants, and that it allow Us to make, oh, I don’t know, PHONE CALLS.  As it has, of late, become temperamental about just how much of those phone calls it will allow Us to HEAR, We have decided to chuck its antiquated ass and obtain a new (and, hopefully, more friendly and accommodating) device.

And what does this mean to YOU, Gentle Readers?  Because you, you, you, it’s all about YOU.  It means that you can look forward tomorrow to being regaled with the scintillating story of Our Visit To The Phone Store, and thus may possibly avoid stories involving poop.

You’re welcome.

And now, the movement…er, moment you’ve all been waiting for:  The HorrorScope:

Why does all the important stuff have to happen under the surface? (Because you can’t drown somebody without holding their head under?)

That’s what it feels like today, (But more importantly, what does it smell like today?)

and while you may feel a bit clueless, (Roll out those shoeless, poo-less, clueless days of summer…)

(Life is a cabaret, old chump.  (Actually, Life™ is a cereal.  Also a board game.  But that would kind of fu(k up the song.))

you can at least rest easy knowing your subconscious is on the case.  (So wait…We’re supposed to be conscious of Our subconscious?  We feel a headache coming on…)

Today, like many days, you should focus on the journey — not just the destination. (Ever the trailblazer, We have decided to adopt the novel approach of focusing on Uranus.  We are going to focus on Uranus starting RIGHT NOW.  (Did you feel a little tingle when We said that?  Because We sure did.))

You need to slow down, or you could miss some important landmarks. (Okay, focused, as We are, on Uranus, that was just disgusting.)

Juggle your schedule to create more free time in the evening, because you need a chunk of time that’s flexible and relaxed. (Juggle your balls… We’re focused on Uranus.)

If a talkative friend wants to bend your ear on the phone, politely tell them you have other things to deal with. (Politely tell them it was your fu(king birthday, why don’t they buy you a goddamn phone?)

(Speaking of which, We forgot to mention today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Dick Van Dyke Chita Rivera Paul Lynde Dick Gautier Susan Watson Kay Medford Charles Nelson Reilly.  It is, of course, from the opening number of the off-off-off-Broadway musical, Gay Gay Birdie (“Have you heard about Hugo and Tim?”).  But, just in case you haven’t purchased Himself’s birthday present yet, it also serves as a gift suggestion. Take THAT, Amazon.)

Pull out your patience and save the foot race for another day.  (Did she just say, “pull out your patience”?   We’re REALLY gonna focus on Uranus now.  (You put Uranus in, you put Uranus out, you put Uranus in, and you shake it all about….))

If you haven’t already done so, now is the best time to write down your needs and goals for your love life and beyond. (Is it possible that We have gotten beyond Our very Own love life?  That is so deep…)

Don’t get too picky — jot down a few attainable results, and don’t waste time getting to work! (Just sit on a happy face…)

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

(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.

Hitler had only one big b@ll...

Greetings, Eclectic Robbers Invited Chief---


Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, March 09, 2010 (Today’s greeting is brought to you by Our brother-in-law, Teddy Jay. We may actually be on to something with this Mad Libs™ idea. Eventually, entire Eric’s Daily Horoscopes will be written by guest Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist)s, and We shall vacation on the Riviera. (“Riviera”, for those who are unilingual, is French for “downa shore”. Unlike “Chita Rivera”, which is French for “Dinah Shore”. French is peculiar that way because it’s a Romaine language. But lettuce not dwell on that…)):


(Perhaps We’ll just blame that entire paragraph on Teddy Jay and move on. But not before We point out that the ever-helpful Micro$oft Weird™ did indeed smell a rat at that “lettuce not dwell” stuff. It suggested that We change it to either “lettuce not dwells” or “lettuces not dwell”. Thanks, Micro$oft Weird™. Meanwhile, “dwell(s)” is a peculiar-looking word when you type it over and over again. Dweebles dwobble, but they dwon’t fall dwown.)


(What?)


(Clearly, We got nothin’. But surely you didn’t expect Us to watch another Justin Timberlake fillum. Unless he starts making p0rno, We suspect We have had about Our fill of his oeuvre. (“Oeuvre”, of course, is French for…well, never mind what, but We suspect Mister Timberlake doesn’t have a very big one.))


(We did, however, send out Our resume yesterday. Our theatre resume, that is. Which wouldn’t have been a very big deal, except when We went onto Our trusty computer to lay Our hands upon the thing, We couldn’t find it anywhere. We looked high, We looked low, We got high and looked some mo’. (We didn’t actually get high, We just thought We’d rap a little. You know, like the kids do.) Anyway, turns out the d@mn thing didn’t exist anywhere on Our hard drive, in Our email outbox, or on any zip disc or thumb drive. We couldn’t actually even think of the last time We had laid Our two eyes upon it. It is entirely possible that it bit the dust with Our previous computer. So, if you’ve seen Us perform in the past three years, We have been Working Without A Resume. Don’t tell the Theatre Police.)


(We have one now, of course. And lettuce just say (We’re gonna flog that joke till its grandhorses die), the only thing We like better than typing a document is formatting a document. Remember way back when, when there were people called secretaries who did all the typing? Sigh.)


(Micro$oft Weird™ didn’t make a peep about “lettuce just say”. It did not, however, see the humor in “grandhorses”.)


(Our-O-Scope…)


Your focus is good, (Sorry…what did you say?)


probably better than usual, (No, really…did you say something?)


and this heightened concentration makes this a good time to get things done. (That is why, as We are plumbing the serio-comic depths to bring you the daily epistle of joy and enlightenment that is Eric’s Daily Horoscope, We are also emptying the dishwasher. Because We will do anything to procrastinate away learning Our lines for the scene We have to do tomorrow.)


Anything that requires close attention to detail is especially highlighted, as are any and all practical tasks. (Here’s a little tip from someone who has actually been to college: if you use your highlighter to highlight everything on the page, you might as well not bother. KThxBye.)


Especially if you normally abhor routine and tedium, (Abhor, of course, is the missing Gabor sister. Routine is the missing RuPaul sister. And naturally, you all know the triplets, Tweedledee, Tweedledum, and Tedium. (Although apparently Micro$oft Weird™ doesn’t.))


(See, We did that because you were expecting either a wh0re joke or a joke about nature abhorring a vacuum cleaner, and We Do So Hate to be predictable. Especially since it’s been so long since We’ve been dictable at all.)


take advantage of the current energy to make progress in your bill-paying at home, your paperwork at the office, your errands around town ... (An ellipse (…), Our dear @sshat, usually implies that there are further things on One’s list that are being left unsaid. In Our humble opinion, your list of chores was quite long enough on its own, without ellipsing off into infinity. We are only One Person, fercrissakes, despite The Royal We. Give Us a g0dd@mn break.)


(Okay, this horoscope is getting really long, and, consequently, is getting on Our nerves. So We’re gonna leave this next chunk of Kelli’s blathering alone, for you to take in all in one piece…)


Since you're so focused on order and self-discipline, your improvement measures may focus on cleanliness or on eliminating waste and inefficiency. It's a great time to clean your house or office, to get rid of old clothes and other items cluttering up your closets and so on. This is an even better time to focus on work, however, as opposed to the home. Any new projects you tackle now will be done with superior attention to detail; you'll leave no loose ends when you're through. A possible positive side effect could be that your boss or another authority figure takes note of your serious, determined and focused attitude and decides to reward you with a raise or promotion!


(Is it just Us, or does she think We’re Hermann Goering? (No, seriously…read it again.))


(YOUR-O-Scopes:


http://www.humorscope.com


please don’t squeeze the cowgrass)