Keeping your head above water, making a wave when you can

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for GoodPieRupeeTuesday, June 25, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Forrest, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.  And who also, One would imagine, cannot be seen for the trees.  Invisibility…nice trick if you can pull it off.

Naturally, because We are We (and We We We all the way home), We are sitting here wondering why the name Forrest has two Rs, while the forest with trees in it has only one.  And We can’t even Google it on Wikipedia, because We can’t think of an intelligent way to phrase the question.  Also, We are afraid that Google’s answer would be something along the lines of, “The world is going to hell in a handbag, and THIS is what you’re worried about?  Wanker.”

Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Cammy, and Chris, and Dusty, and Mark, and OurAmericanCousin Sherry, each of whom turned twenty-four this past weekend, some of them in faraway places with strange-sounding names, but none of them, presumably, invisibly.

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?

Meanwhile, in other news, shortly after We posted yesterday’s episode, somewhere around noon, Our computer started doing an automatic Windows update.  (Are there three more frightening words in the Engrish ranguage?  (Well, perhaps McDonna’s anal bleaching.))  Naturally, We very shortly found Ourself completely unable to compute (and computely unable to complete), without any WorldWideInterWebNetz to Our name. The next eight hours (and no, We are NOT exaggerating, as We’ve told you a million times) were spent in one of Our favorite pastimes, which We like to call Amusing The Dotheads From Dell.  We shall spare you the soul-sucking details, but We were particularly enamored of the one who abandoned Us after the first four hours to “consult with my supervisor and call you back in two or three minutes”.  When We called back twenty minutes later, Indira Gandhi asked Us if We knew his name.  Now, he had told Us his name at the beginning, four hours prior, and it sounded like the noise you might make if you had accidentally swallowed a spoiled raw shrimp that had been sitting on a cowpie in the sun for a week. 

(That there was a little werd pixture We painted just for Our Gentle Readers.  Because We’re poetical like that.)

After his first mention of his name, however, he referred to himself subsequently as “Victor”.  “Oh,” sez Indira, “that must be his alias.” Thereby blatantly admitting that not only have these people stolen all of Our jobs, but they are sitting on their rotary telephones in Oh Calcutta blatantly lying to Us.

But enough about that.  You don’t care about Our pain.  Plus, it just occurred to Us that, when We say “Indira Gandhi”, We are actually picturing Golda Meir.  In a sorry.  And We’re not even sari about it.

And now the HorrorScopes:

Celebrity-wise, today is the birthday of both Jimmie Walker and June Lockhart.  And if THAT isn’t a remake of Driving Miss Daisy just crying out to be made, We don’t know what is.

In still other news, We are having birthday cake for breakfast.  Because We can.

You encounter a new idea or person this morning that fills you with hope and excitement.  (We sat on the phone in OurHouseWhereWeLive in Our bathrobe for eight hours yesterday, and consumed nothing but iced coffee.  Two thunderstorms came and went.  At this point, opening Our front door would fill Us with hope and excitement.)

It may relate to love, work, travel or almost anything, (Way to narrow it the fuck down.  Asshat.)

but it definitely inspires you to make a change.  (We are wearing Our Tuesday panties.  Of course, We are ALWAYS wearing Our Tuesday panties.  That way, We’re right once a week.)

When you are working in a group today, (Bite your damn tongue.)

you should experiment with the idea of holding back your thoughts. (Well, better your thoughts than your farts.  If you hold back your farts, you could ‘splode.)

Let others figure it out and argue back and forth, while you sit on the sidelines. (Or the landmines.  (Have We (dare We say it?) a fart theme developing?  A fart motif, if you will?  (Or even if you won’t…what makes you think it’s all about you?)  A fart motif being not unlike a leitmotif.  Which, of course, in the case of farts, is actually (wait for it) a light-your-farts-motif.))

(Ah, potty humor.  It’s my potty, and I’ll fart if I want to, fart if I want to, fart if I want to…)

(Sari.)

(Micro$oft Weird™ has put a little green squiggle under the third “fart” in the sentence before “Sari”, as it would like to suggest that We change it to “and fart”.  Here a fart, there a fart, everywhere a fart-fart…)

Observe how they come to a not-so satisfying solution — and then add your brilliant ideas to the mix. (A whole bunch of fart jokes, and a pie fight.  How could you go wrong?)

Watching these people work together serves as a cautionary tale: it’s a good lesson how not to collaborate. (“Co” being the prefix that means “in conjunction with”, what the hell is “llaborate”?)

Your energy is going to be quiet all day.  (Silent butt deadly.)

You’re the one with the plan, (A man, a plan, anal sex, Panama.)

(What does that even MEAN?)

and your love life is where it’s at. (Speaking of invisibility…)

(See how We did that callback thingie to a joke from all the way at the beginning?  But We are A Highly-Trained Professional…do not attempt this at home.)

What active steps should you take to hook up with new folks? (Hire a hooker with a hookah?)

How should you expand your circle of social connections?  (Aren’t you supposed to be ANSWERING Our questions, Kelli?  What the hell kind of Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) are you?)

In gaseousness (Heh.),

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!)

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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.

                                                                                                                                     

It’s like We’re losing Our minds

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Saturday, June 18, 2011.  Oh, my dears.  A SATURDAY Erix Daily Horoscope.  Surely a sign of the Apocalypse…or the Hypotenuse…We always get those two confused.  So didja miss Us?  (We are going to be boldly optimistic and take the cacophony of crickets as a resounding “Yes”.)  We missed you, too. Although We tried desperately to keep up with birthday wishes on the SitOnMyFaceBook, one or two significant events did manage to slip through Our crack.  For example, Tuesday, June 14^th was Fag Day.  So Happy Belated Fag Day to everyone.  Although, as Our religious friends (which is totally different, it just occurred to Us, than Our religious Friends, which would mean Quakers  (You know, the Oats people)) would have Us understand, God Hates Flags.  Now, it may come as a surprise to some of you that We Our Own Self Personally had a quite extensive religious education in Our remote youth, and We are hard-pressed to believe that God hates anyone, with the possible exception of that woman on the Progressive Insurance commercials, but who are We to judge?  After all, as it says in the Bible, “Judge everybody else quick, before they get a chance to judge you.”  Or something like that.

Wednesday, June 15^th, in addition to being Hump Day, which We imagine you all enjoyed, as usual, without Us, was also the twenty-fourth birthday of Our latest future ex-husband, Mister Neil Patrick Harris.  Imagine how desolated We were to discover that his contact information had somehow found its way out of Our Rolodex™, and that We were unable to send him birthday regards.  We trust that one of YouPeople who knows one of Neil Patrick Harris’s people will see that this little video makes its way to him: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBwdacfn2Vk    . KThxBye.

Thursday, June 16^th, meanwhile, was Our Sistah Ovella and her husband Teddy-Jay’s twenty-third weddin’ anniversary.  Hence today’s matrimonially-themed Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Here Comes The Bridal Party All Dressed In Dresses They Hate Which Were Chosen To Accommodate The Requisite Fat Cousin Amongst Their Number. So Happy Twenty-Third Weddin’ Anniversary to Ovella and Teddy Jay.  Oddly enough (twenty-three being an odd number (although One wouldn’t say “primely enough”, even though it is also a prime number  (and One wouldn’t say “primly enough” in any sentence that also contains the word “Ovella”  (Hi, Ovella! (Sorry; We appear to have digressed digressively in mid-digression))))), Ovella’s twenty-third weddin’ anniversary will be followed by her twenty-fourth birthday, which will be followed by her twenty-fourth weddin’ anniversary, which will be followed by her twenty-fourth birthday.  A time machine is a truly amazing thing.  Not, perhaps, quite as amazing as a vacuum cleaner with really good suction, but pretty amazing nonetheless.

Does anyone else occasionally type random incorrect homonyms?  For example, in the preceding, We initially typed “followed buy her twenty-fourth birthday.”  What is WRONG with Us?

You will notice that We have avoided (thus far) complaining about jury doody.  Which We have been on all week, and must return to Monday for closing arguments and deliberation.  Somehow We just know We are going to be All Twelve Angry Men, and that We shall represent the sole dissenting opinion amongst the flotsam and jetsam of humanity that comprises these people’s peers.  Sigh.  It was also not exactly a ray of sunshine when, in mid-doody this week, We received a horoscope that said, “You have had just about all the fun you can stand.”

On the other hand, We are enjoying saying “doody”.

And now, the thing you’ve been missing most of all, Neil Patrick Harris naked…er, The HorrorScope:

You should get all the help you can use today (Unless there are all of a sudden door-to-door psychiatrists, WE doubt that.)

(We have just this very morning learned that, over the years, We have known three totally unrelated people who have all lived in the exact same apartment at one time or another.  What are the odds?  And how can We translate that fact to a winning PowerBall™ ticket?)

— even from some surprising sources. (Some surprising sources of sibilant esses, sarsaparilla swiller.)

(Meanwhile, We actually spelled “sarsaparilla” correctly on the first try, but Micro$oft Weird™ is objecting to the word “swiller”.  Clearly, it has never heard of the comedy team of Jerry Swiller and Golda Meir.)

It’s a good time to call in favors (Does that include sexual favors?  Because, yes, please.)

and generally ask for assistance. (Which is different than asking a general for assistance.  With his privates.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

It’s not a sign of weakness — far from it!  (Fart vomit!)

(No.  We have no idea.)

 Powerful personalities are pushing (The next word should start with P, also.  But it doesn’tt.  Yet another of life’s disappointments.)

hard to reach their objectives right now, and you may find yourself caught up in a battle to attain someone else’s goal. (Good thing We’ve already been talking to that general and his privates, then.)

Think hard (We generally (heh) do.)

before letting yourself be enlisted. (What is with this army motif today?)

Focus on what you want to accomplish, and if it doesn’t align with what this person is suggesting, then go ahead and say, ‘thanks but no thanks.’ (Or say, “Franks but no Spanx™, and pretend it’s not a fat joke.)

You have to put all your energy into your own life and your own dreams. (That sounds like a lot of work.)

Let others do the same for themselves.  (Who are these “others”, and why do you imagine that We care?)

What do you care most deeply about? (Us Our Own Self Personally.  Have you been paying NO attention whatsoever?)

The odds are good that there are others near you who care about the same things.  (Not so’s you’d notice.)

Finding like-minded people (Or, for that matter, ANY-minded people.)

 is a great way to beef (Heh.  We would make a Clara Peller joke, but We’d be dating Ourself.  (Of course, SOMEone has to.))

up your social network.  (We loved that movie. (Jesse Eisenberg, if you’re reading this, please bring Us Neil Patrick Harris’s phone number.  Preferably tattooed on your inner thigh.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

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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.