Everything old is nude again

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s!Weekly!Horoscope! for JustAnotherManacledManicuristManiacallyManhandlingManchurianManateesMonday,  January Twelvest, 2015.

Happy Birthday to Mark, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back. 

Happy Birthday also to Skip, who also turns twenty-four today, somewhere in the suburbs of The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.

Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Cynthia, and Alexander, and John, and Zachary, and Josh, and Fernando, and Bill, and Vinnie, and Harmony, and Patricia, and Drusilla, each of whom turned twenty-four this past week.

Yes, We said “this past week”.  We last e-pisstled last Monday, and, oddly enough, despite the absence of e-pissodes, the hit count for that e-pisstle never rose again, and not a single Gentle Reader inquired as to Our whereabouts or Our well-being.

Hmmm…

We’re fine, thanks for not asking.  We had three nights at the Murder Mystery Factory, a three-day visit from bae (that’s what The Kidz are calling it, yes?), and a broken furnace.

Somewhere in the middle of said week, a friend in Hollyweird sent out a SitOnMyFaceBook request that people watch and Cher his new video, which We promptly did (as One, We thought, does (and are doing again here, which see:))

This activity, it will not surprise you to learn, caused Us to reflect upon the fact  that We share Our Own Personal videos every day, both on people’s SitOnMyFaceBook pages for their birthdays, and in these e-pisstles, wherein We request that Our Gentle Readers Cher them.  To wit:

“Here is the link with which you may share Our Capricorn video with both of your friends:   http://youtu.be/m3Aa_X_HoVM ”

That never happens.

Needless to say (and yet, saying it anyway), We were a bit discouraged by this turn of events.  However, in Our ongoing efforts to be One Of Those People who turns chicken shit into chicken salad,  We wondered to Ourself what all else We might be writing if We weren’t (subjunctively) e-pisstlitizing there e-pisstles e-very day.

Welcome, consequently, to Eric’s!Weekly!Horoscope!, which astute Gentle Readers who are NOT naked skimmers will have already noticed up at the beginning there.  (Have We mentioned recently how very many of Our Gentle Readers We’ve seen naked?  Because We have.)

Speaking of nakediditty, who could resist this Justin Bieber story?  : http://www.brobible.com/entertainment/article/calvin-klein-photoshopped-justin-bieber-bulge/‏

And/or: http://www.thesuperficial.com/justin-bieber-pubes-photoshop-calvin-klein-happy-trail-original-01-2015#.VK9dvtXfuyU.facebook‏

It just this minute occurred to Us to go look at what, if any, e-pissodes of these e-pisstles people were looking aat while We were amongst the missing, and We came across this e-xcerpt from 2012, which had the most hits for the week:

We would not, of course, ordinarily be e-pisstlitizing in here on a SayerDee (or, if We were, We’d be intro-ing one of Our Very Special Video Retrospective E-pissodes), but something monumentally cataclysmic has transpired, and We felt compelled to come and Cher.

There is a pimple on Our buttock.

Not just ANY pimple, mind you.  (Not just ANY buttock, either…Our LEFT buttock.)  This is a pimple of such staggering proportions as to leave all other pretender-to-the-game-of-thrones pimples in the dust by comparison.  This pimple on Our left buttock is so monumentally ginormous that it could actually be an auxiliary buttock all its own.  Which would, it would seem, give Us three buttocks, causing Us, no doubt, to list to one side, and making Us, essentially, Fred MacMurray in My Three Buttocks,  with William Demarest as Uncle Charlie, and what was up with all those old TV shows where random men just lived together without a woman anywhere to be found, and how sad is it that We knew William Demarest’s name without having to look it up?

But back to Our pimple, which makes even the preceding paragraph look small by comparison.  If Our left buttock were (subjunctively) Mount Rushmore, this pimple would be Chester A. Arthur.  Who is not, of course, actually ON Mount Rushmore, but We’re fairly sure he was the really fat President, unless that was William Howard Taft, but We can’t be bothered to look it up.  (We did, however, just look up William Demarest, and We learned that, if he were (subjunctively) still alive, he would be a hundred and twenty years old.  THERE’S a brain cell We’ll never get back.)  Our point being that they would need the fattest President they could find to represent this pimple if Our left buttock were (subjunctively) Mount Rushmore.

All this talk of Our left buttock is, as you would assume, making Us think of the Daniel Day-Lewis fillum, My Left Foot, in which Mister Day-Lewis portrays some real-life character with a crippling disease so very crippling that he can only control his left foot, so he takes up painting.  Instead of, you know, something useful, like feeding himself, or wiping his ass, or having a wank.  This, of course, makes him famous, and his life gets made into a movie with Daniel Day-Lewis in it.  Daniel Day-Lewis wins an Oscar™, presumably to the sound of crippled painter guy’s one foot clapping.

Now, We are not suggesting that Our left buttock could hold a candle to Daniel Day-Lewis’s left foot.  (Actually, We’re fairly certain that Our left buttock couldn’t hold a candle at all, whereas Daniel Day-Lewis’s left foot no doubt could.  (It also strikes Us, just now, parenthetically, that Mister Day-Lewis’s character in that fillum must have been really bad at the Hokey-Pokey.))  We ARE, however, saying that, if you hold a canvas back there when this pimple finally pops, We will SHOW you a painting.

All together now:  eeeeuuuuwwwww!!!!!

And here, for your further edification, is Our very first Capricorn video:

Upon reflection, these two videos are amongst Our much more densely-plotted cinematic efforts, due to the fact that Our director actually is a Capricorn (although quite unlike the unseen character from the videos).

We often ponder, in the endless time afforded to Us by the fact that We are almost universally ignored, how many of Our Gentle Readers actually realize that, if viewed in order, Our videos actually have ongoing plots and storylines. 

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 TEN YEARS OLD, and can be found (for a small fee) here: http://www.lulu.com/shop/eric-singel/erics-daily-horoscope-2004/paperback/product-300894.html  ? 

Thank Gawd We didn’t stray from the point.

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In celebrity birthday news, We were concerned that YouPeople were all making your way to your workplaces in the middle of the back-alley abortion that is today’s weather, until We realized that it is Zayn Malik’s birthday, so you probably all have the day off.

Avoid the impulse to critique every little thing today (That is the stupidest thing We’ve ever heard.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

— there are enough people doing that! (Yes, but We do it the best.)

Just make sure that you’re available when others ask you for advice. (Why?  What did these “others” ever do for Us?)

Then you can be free with criticism.  (Actually, We’re awfully good at criticism…it would be nice if We could find a way to charge for it.)

You need to face it (This face seats five.  Also, this face is leaving in two minutes…be on it.)

 — you are just feeling less energetic than usual today, (We’re pretty sure that the only thing less energetic than We usually are is death.  Are We dead?  Because if We’re dead, We can probably stop typing, yes?)

(Of course, as far as most of Our Gentle Readers know, We could have been dead all last week.)

and it shows. (Good lord…is this still the same sentence?)

(It just occurred to Us that We mentioned Justin Bieber earlier, and didn’t put Our Justin Bieber video in here.  So here ya go.  (Don’t Cher it with nobody or nothin’.)):

How can you get your groove back? (Ask Stella.)

(That right there was a litter-hairy illusion.  ‘Cause We’re cultured and shit.)

There are two equal and opposite actions you could take. (There usually are.  But as Our ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulist), shouldn’t you be telling Us which one to choose?)

The first is to simply rest (In pieces?  (See earlier death reference.))

— especially if you’ve been overworked lately. (Not to mention underpaid.)

The second is to force yourself to get moving, especially if you’ve been the lethargic lately. (Justin Bieber’s Underoos™!)

(We have no idea.)

Whichever you choose, act soon!  (Well, DUH.  Call before midnight tonight, and get a free set of Ginsu steak knives.  To cut up your Ginsu steak with.  (What the hell kind of animal is a Ginsu?))

Don’t pass up an offer to join your pal on a double date. (But if he’s already on a double date, wouldn’t that make Us a fifth wheel?)

Although past experience tells you to avoid it like the plague, give this one a chance. (All We are saying is, “Give peas a chance”.)

(We’re not really saying that.  We hate peas.  Always have.)

Even if the romance falls short, you’ll meet someone new and interesting. (Is anyone else thinking Zayn Malik wearing Justin Bieber’s Underoos™?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

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!)

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

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.

                                                                                                                                    

Jimmy craps corn, and I don’t care

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay, October TwennyTurd, TwennyTurdTeen.  (Hmmm…try saying that out loud.  “TwennyTurdTeen”, We mean.  Except say it a little more like “TwennyNurdNeen”.  (Not like THAT…NEVER go full ‘tard! (No, DON’T say “TwennyTardTeen”….that’s just rude.)))

We’re not fifty words in, and already a ‘tard joke.  And people thought “Picturing Allen And Kevin Naked Week” and “Picturing Peter’s Peter Week” were rude.

Happy Birthday, before We digress again, to AJ, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves You(On Your) Back.  Happy Birthday also too to Barry, who also too turns twenty-four today, also right here in The City That Loves You(On Your) Back. 

Meanwhile, Our ever-so-lucky Gentle Readers are about to be the first folks in the known universe to hear that The Little Show That Could, LOOKING FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour , will be returning for one night only on Sunday, November 10 at 7:30 at L’Etage.  Get your tickets here:  http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/499391  . Dammit.

But back to the matter at hand, Ducks (which is different than the hatter Armand (which is, yet again, different from the Mad Hatter Armand Hammer (remember when Armand Hammer made baking soda?  Now his great-grandson Armie Hammer…well, Looks Like That.  Hi-yo, Silver, et cetera.)))…none of these parentheses is getting Us any closer to the matter at hand, is they, Ducks?  Let’s start over…

Armie Hammer naked…

Let’s start over again…

Having already dragged Allen, Kevin, and Peter into this again by neck and crop (and have We mentioned recently that We’ve actually SEEN the “crops” on two out of three of ‘em in Real Life?  Sigh…), We must mention that We had absolutely no responses to yesterday’s request for Whom Should We Picture Naked THIS Week? Consequently, We have taken matters into Our Own hands (along with Mad Hatter Armand Hammer’s great-Grandson Armie Hammer), and decided, for reasons entirely Our Own to declare it “What’s In Those Jeggings™? Week”, starring OurThreeSons from the murder mystery.

Faithful Gentle Readers will no doubt recall that We have waxed rhapsodic (carrots) on prior occasions about OurThreeSons.  And here, courtesy of cut-and-paste (and general indolence) are those occasions right now:

{Insert “WayBack Machine” sound effects here.}

Also, Happy Non-Birthday to Evan, who does NOT turn twenty-four (or any other age) today, in Oh, Hai, Ohio, or anywhere else.  Evan apparently sat down the wrong way (sidesaddle?) on his SitOnMyFaceBook and inadvertently (“inadvertently”, which is today’s Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! Word Of The Day Du Jour Au Jus (and how long has it been since We’ve had one of those?), means, obviously, “without any adverts”) changed his birthday, which was actually earlier this month.

As We are always One to make cake while the sun shines (yes, We KNOW the expression is “make hay”, but who the fuck wants hay, and besides, mmmmm, cake), We shall use this opportunity to do an instant replay from Our e-pissode on the date of Evan’s actual birthday:

Also, Happy Belated Birthday to Evan, who turned not-quite-twenty-four during Our hiatus, and who is one of OurThreeSonsWhoLookReallyGoodInSkinnyJeans, whom We have previously discussed, most recently here:http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/08/operator-information-get-me-jesus-on.html

That post was on the occasion of the birthday of another one ofOurThreeSonsWhoLookReallyGoodInSkinnyJeans, which has only just now caused Us to reflect on the fact that two of OurThreeSonsWhoLookReallyGoodInSkinnyJeans are Virgos.  Hmmmm…the third of OurThreeSonsWhoLookReallyGoodInSkinnyJeans is an Aries like Our Own Self.  We have no idea what that means, but We thought We’d Cher.

Here, for those of Our Gentle Readers who are too lazy to click on the link in the above, is where said link would take you:

Happy Birthday to Johnny, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.  Johnny is the third of Our Three Sons in the murder mystery.  (We say “third” only because he was the third of them that We met/worked with; We certainly love all of Our Three Sons equally, and we do not discriminate amongst them and their skinny jeans.)

It occurs to Us that We have waxed rhapsodic on the subject of Our Three Sons before (complete with an arcane Fred MacMurray reference), so, lest We repetitively and reiteratively repeat Ourself, We shall simply refer you to said rhapsodic waxation here:http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/07/we-are-si-mese-if-you-prease.html

And once again being the kind of full-service Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) that you all know and love, here is where the above link would take you, if you were (subjunctively) not too lazy to click on it:

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.

Wow.  We sure did manage to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear (whatever the fuck THAT means) out of Our Evan sitting his perky buttocks down askew.

{Insert REVERSE “WayBack Machine” sound effects here.}

And now, We are back in the present.  Isn’t time travel exciting?

(Is anyone else still chuckling over “waxing rhapsodic (carrots)”?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

And here is the HorrorScope:

Although many fascinating celebrities were born today, this year, We choose to commemorate the birth of Gummo Marx, notable for inspiring the first and only time in human history that anyone actually uttered the sentence, “And We shall call the child Gummo.”

Your ability to reach other people and make them understand where you’re coming from is pretty amazing (Only to those who haven’t seen OurThreeSons in their Jeggings™.)

— but that doesn’t mean you can’t stumble. (So many fascinating “-umble” words. Only one of which is Bryant Gumbel.  (Many of Our Gentle Readers will be shocked that We know who that is.  We know so many interesting things.))

Pay attention to everything going on around you.  (Sorry…did you say something?)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

Having lots of charm is nothing new for you, especially today. (Always after me Lots Of Charm…they masturbate the fishes.)

(If going full ‘tard is wrong, going full ‘tard LEPRECHAUN is just pure evil.)

You’re bubbling over with it. (There are so many more fascinating “-umble” words than “-ubble” ones.  Plus, you wind up having to fall back on Barney and Betty Rubble. And the telescope guy.  Who is no Bryant Gumbel.)

All of this magnetism is flowing back to you and helping you keep a positive attitude — that’s why you’re not sweating the small stuff. (A lady doesn’t sweat.  She has hot flashes.)

Flaky or annoying people can’t get you down either. (How flaky are they? And will they butter Our biscuit?)

You’ll just give them a smile (We can turn the world on with Our smile.  We can take a nothing day, and give it a blowjob like Gomer Pyle.)

(Heh.  We kill Us.)

and keep going on your merry way. (Was that a gay joke?)

It’s also a great day for negotiations.  (And a grand night for singing.)

Your perceptive side helps you pick up information from people without them having to say a word. (And yet, Kelli, you keep blathering on.  AssHatt.)

This skill comes in handy when you need to decode the actions of someone new, so stay alert! (Once a lert, always a lert.)

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!)

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

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.