Get it low, get it low

(“Get it low”…heh.  We kill Us.)

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for TuesdayShortFuseDay, March 4^rd , 2014.

Happy Birthday to Greg, who turns twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  Happy Birthday also to Matt, who also turns twenty-four today, also right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.

And last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Liesel, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in El Lay. (It occurs to Us after the fact that that sentence could have begun, “And last but not Liesel…”, but then you wouldn’t have known what the fuck We were talking about until it was over, so it would have been thirty-seven percent less funny.  You’re welcome.)

Belatedly speaking, We missed quite a few birthdays during Our hiatal hernia…er, hiatus.  We were supposed, of course, to be in Greater Bostonia, bringing the wisdom of Our ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulation)s to the New Englandese.  That having failed spectacularly, We spent most of the weekend sitting at home licking Our wounds.  Which was rather restrained of Us, licking nothing but Our Own Self, especially considering the company We had last night.

At any rate, in addition to missing Our usual “March comes in like a liar and goes out like a lamp” frivolity, We also missed the following:

Happy (now-belated) Birthday to Andy, and Brie, and Claudia, and Cliff, and Corky, and Reed, each of whom turned twenty-four somewhere in the past few days.  Happy Belated Birthday also to Devon, who also turned twenty-four in the past little while, and whom We are mentioning specially because We would have seen him in Greater Bostonia, had We (subjunctively) BEEN in greater Bostonia, where We were supposed to be.

Life is a goddamn fucking trial, no?

In addition to the preceding bevy of birthdays, We also missed the window for giving YouPeople Our full and insightful Oscar™ coverage.  So We shall be brief:

John Travolta, you had ONE. FUCKING. JOB.

If you were one of the (two) people who was actually looking forward to Our Oscar™ coverage, please enjoy this instant replay of last year’s: 

http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/02/do-you-hear-people-sing-people-who-need.html

And last but not Liesel (see?  It’s funny now that you know what We’re talking about, right?  Riiiiiight???), the most important thing We missed was, of course, Justin Bieber’s twentieth birthday.  We sure hope he got Our card.

Speaking of last night and the Oscars™, We finally got around to watching 12 Years A Slave with Our company last night  We wish We could regale you with the scintillating discussion/commentary which followed, but suffice it say that We have now cemented into Our lexicon the phrase, “And THIS is why We can’t go on Oprah.”

Stay tuned to these e-pisstles for a show-biz-related announcement pursuant to the preceding.

In still other news, We are poor, so We need to sell a lot of tickets to the following:

We will be performing one night only, Thursday, March 6^th, in The Walker and O'Dare Mystery Radio Hour at the Powel House.  Details here: 

https://www.facebook.com/events/462325460534871/

On Friday, March 7^th, We will be performing one of the few remaining performances of Our murder mystery, Murder in Twelve Steps, which, if you haven’t seen in the past year, you probably don’t care about now.

And on Saturday, March 8^th, We will be dusting off Everybody’s Favorite Messiah, Jesus H. Christ, as the WaitStaff plays The Match Game  at L’Etage: https://www.facebook.com/events/289403944541722/

Meanwhile, in ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopular) news, We have entered the sign of Pisces, Our most recent video for which is above.  Here is the link with which you may share it with your friends: http://youtu.be/KMNgwWwNux8  Because you do that, don’t you?  DON’T YOU?

And here, because We can resist no opportunity to share it, is Our FIRST Pisces video, starring the aforementioned, now non-teen-aged Justin Bieber.  :

Namaste, MotherFuckers.

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

And now, as We’ve got a script that needs a doctor, here are:

(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.

                                                                                                                                     

Birthday greetings, bottle of wine

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay, September 25^rd, 2013.  Happy Hump Day to Juan Anne Dahl.

Whatever your political affiliation, you no doubt receive, as We do, some quantity of political emails alerting you to Washingtonian shenanigantics, usually exhorting you to send funds to nudge said shenanigantics in whichever direction you lean.  And We are aware that The Personal Touch is no doubt most effective in inspiring said fund dispersal.  However, someone should be made aware that an email purporting to be from Michelle Obama with the subject line, “Eric, it’s me” makes Us feel as though the First Lady has jumped out of Our broom closet at Us and said “Boo!”

KThxBye.

Meanwhile Happy Birthday to Michael, who turns twenty-four today, somewhere in New York, New York, The City That Never Sleeps (With Us).  Happy Birthday also to Hope, who also turns twenty-four today, somewhere called Orwigsburg, Pennsyltucky, of which We had never heard until just this very moment.   Also too also, Happy Birthday to Charly, who also too also turns twenty-four today. In Tennessee.  Which, now that We type it out (which We so rarely do), makes Us wonder why it doesn’t have its own little spelling song, a la “em-eye-ess-ess-eye-ess-ess-eye-pee-pee-eye” for spelling “Alabama” or whatever the fuck.

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Van, who turns twenty-four today in El Lay.  Or Frito Lay.  One of those.

In other news, despite what your WorldWideInterWebNetz may have told you, Daniel Radcliffe will NOT be playing Freddie Mercury in the upcoming biopic.  We know that worrying about that was occupying all of OUR time.

In other news, The Red-Headed Step-Child of the Philadelphia Theatrical Community has concluded the run of her show, so you will be spared entreaties to purchase tickets.  Also, despite efforts on the part of many to make her feel Less Equal Than Everybody Else, the bitch made her bank, so said show will be back to annoy you all shortly.

Thank you, meanwhile to all of those who came out and/ or supported Us.  We are already hard at work on the Kickstarter rewards.

And here is the HorrorScope:

Speaking of El Lay, We imagine it is closed today in honor of Heather Locklear’s Birthday.  And, in case you were accidentally feeling young or something, Anson Williams, who was, of course, Potsie on Happy Days, is sixty-four today.  Will We still need him, will We still feed him?

Your phone keeps ringing (Yeah, no.  No, it doesn’t.)

— but you can’t always answer it. (Dude.  That is SO existential.  Like, if Helen Keller falls down on Forest Whitaker, who designs the sound?)

Try to manage your communications with an eye toward what’s more important to you.  (We tried that.  Johnny Depp has Our calls blocked.)

Make one person a priority and keep them available.  (Chained up in the basement?  How exactly does that work?)

Two possible scenarios are on the agenda. (Great!  Usually, all We get is one impossible impresario, or two implausible Super Mario Brothers.)

(We have no earthly idea what the fuck We’re talking about.  You know that, right?)

First, a wonderfully entertaining individual will charm you right out of your fiery little shoes with not much more than a word, a glance or a gesture you’ll find immensely attractive … okay, irresistible. (Wait…Our shoes are on fire?!?)

Second, someone could try to manipulate you into dealing with something that’s never been at the top of your favorite list: details you see as not just unimportant, but also extremely irritating. (We vote against that.  Especially since We just narrowly escaped The Towering Shoe Inferno.)

If they arrive at the same time, make yourself scarce. (Feets, don’t fail Us now!)

 It’s got to be better in the long run.  (Our shoes were just on fire.  How the fuck are We supposed to run?)

(Or should that be, “How the fuck are We Supp-Hosed™ to run?”)

 If you’re having trouble breaking the ice with your latest crush, (Which makes a lot more sense than crushing the ice with Our latest break.)

try using email to get things moving. (Yeah. ‘Cause THAT’S sex-ay.)

Flirt with smilies! (Alternatively, fart with similes.   You know, as if you were (subjunctively) farting, but you’re really doing something else entirely.  (We have no idea what, but We hope it involves Daniel Radcliffe and Johny Depp.))

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.

                                                                                                                                     

I see a little silhouetto of a man, scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango?

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for ThongDay, October ThongTeenth, 2011.  (To all y’all out there who are currently imagining Us sitting here typing this in a  thong, you’re welcome.  To all y’all who saw the word (and We use that term loosely) “ThongTeenth” and misread it as “ThongTeeth”, We’re sorry.  And also, OUCH.)  Happy birthday to Catherine, who turns twenty-four today.  And to Ross, who also turns twenty-four today, and who doesn’t read this, but his girlfriend does.  And to Katherine Ross, today’s Gratuitous Celebrity For Indexing Purposes, star of The Graduate and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, whose birthday is actually in January, and who is SEVENTY-ONE years old.

There…that didn’t make any sense whatsoever, did it?

In other news, why did no one tell Us that the InterWebz are full of crazy people?  Seriously.  We know this will seem old-fashioned to you kidz, but if you want to talk to not-crazy-people, call their asses up on the phone.  We have had no fewer than three actual, fulfilling conversations with other sentient beings on Our telephone this week.  The InterWebz, meanwhile, are full of screeching, gibbering maniacs.  Sigh.

Not to disappoint you all and hurl you into the depths of despair, but, as predicted in Our last episode, We will NOT be performing tonight and tomorrow night.  Those of you who had already purchased your tickets and totally sold out the venue can contact Us for info as to how to obtain a refund.

How did all these crickets get in here, and why are they chirping so?

We just answered Our door, where the UPS lesbian gave Us a package containing a free bag of Chex Mix™ which We shall be paid money to consume.  It’s good to be Queen. (It is not, however, particularly good to be Freddie Mercury.)

In other other news, Starzina’s Time Of The Month Horoscope: Libra has roared out of the gate with incredible momentum; perhaps We should ALWAYS make YouBitches wait.  Keep it up (that’s what she said) and pass it along to friends.  (Like herpes.) You can either click to watch it here:

 

 or share this link with your friends with Libra birthdays:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEd2UNc29Sk

Speaking of Our videos, We shall be shooting the next installments this weekend.  Since no one appears to have ever  used Our mention of a certain name in the birthday wishes to pass Us along to a friend and claim they had Us mention that name especially, We shall be ditching the endless list of birthday wishes, and thereby shortening the things by at least half.

Mammy’s little baby lubs shortening, shortening, Mammy’s little baby lubs shortening bread.

Where the hell did THAT come from?

And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for: Colonel Sanders throws a Crisco™ party.  Alternatively, the HorrorScope:

Try not to worry too much when today’s big obstacle pops up right in front of you (But if a big octopus poops right in front of you, be afraid, be very afraid. (Heh.  Octopus poop…now THAT’S comedy.  Ya know what else is comedy?  The octopus wiping himself after he poops.))

 (It is not everywhere that you can get free octopus poop jokes in your morning email.  We risk the wrath of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Octopi JUST. FOR. YOU.)

(You’re welcome.)

— there’s not much you can do about it!  (Hey, when an octopus has to poop, he has to poop.  Are you gonna try to tell him no?)

See if your people can help you get around it, or just wait it out.  (Again with this delusion that We have “people”.)

 You’ve heard all your life that hard work pays off, but it might feel as though you haven’t seen proof of this in quite a while. (Ya know what pays off?  The winning PowerBall™ ticket.)

Watching people get things that they don’t deserve — or worse, things that you deserve more — is becoming increasingly difficult to do. (Not really.  One has only to open One’s eyes.)

 Today, follow your sense of fairness, (We thought We smelled something.)

and you can affect the rewards that people including yourself will be getting. (We are hoping that Our free bag of Chex Mix™ doesn’t preclude Our obtaining the winning PowerBall™ ticket later.)

(Heh.  This just occurred to Us…before it got here?  The Chex™ was in the mail.)

(We kill Us.)

 Treat others with the respect they deserve, (Somehow, We suspect We are not taking this the same way that Kelli meant it.  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)

and the imbalance you’ve been feeling will slowly start to fade away.  (Honey, We are on the imbalance BEAM.)

(We have no idea what that meant.)

You’re not getting what you’re giving — and you don’t like it, at all. (Set it to music and sing it, Sistah.)

Look at the company you’re keeping: you hang with a bunch of takers. (Wow.  We sure hope Our friends aren’t reading this.)

(Oh, look; more crickets, chirping.  (And one naked guy, skimming. (And a partridge in a pear tree.)))

When you change your homies, you’ll change your perspective. (And when you change your homos, you’ll change your periscope.  (That was a little submarine joke.   Four Our submariner readers.))

 Stick with the winners. (Or the wieners.  (That was a little dick joke.  For Our little dick readers.))

                                                                                

 (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.