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.

                                                                                                                                     

Science fiction double feature

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for WhinesDay, September 26, 2012.  Welcome to Pray For Death Day Three, otherwise known as James Caviezel’s birthday.  James Caviezel, for those who are unenlightened (much as We Our Own Self Personally were until just a moment ago), played Jesus H. Christ in Mel Gibson’s S&M flick, The Passion of the Christ. We Our Own Self Personally played Jesus H. Christ in The Real Housewives of South Philly Play The Match Game. James Caviezel no doubt made more money than We did, but We had more fun.

All around the mulberry bush, the monkey James Caviezel…

Oh, you know you were singing it too…

Speaking of death, Our InterNetz tell Us that Andy Williams just died.  We were pretty sure he was already dead.  We, meanwhile, are not actually Praying For Death as fervently as We might, because, despite the sweet release it would provide from this bubonic-plague-like ailment with which We are currently afflicted, We would be embarrassed to have Our body discovered in a house as filthy as Ours currently is.  So We suppose We shall have to live.

Sigh.

Meanwhile, if We have to be so deathly ill, is it too much to ask that we should lose Our appetite at the same time? Gawd forbid We should lose a pound or two for Our troubles.

In other news, having already been forced to miss Heather Locklear’s birthday festivities this week, today We shall be forced to give Olivia Newton-John’s shindig a miss.  Sigh.

(All of Our str8 boi readers are desperately trying to create a euphemism out of “Olivia Newton-John’s shindig”.  Let me hear your body talk, your body talk.)

Here is last year’s Libra video to compare with this year’s (see above).  All of your insights have been so helpful so far, much like Mitt Rmoney’s Open Window Policy for airplanes and submarines:

It is difficult to believe that it was only a few short weeks ago that HimSelf was named Groovy Reader of the Month over at Deep Dish:  http://marcharshbarger.blogspot.com/2012/09/groovy-reader-of-month-eric-singel.html

Here’s the HorrorScope:

You need to take control of a new situation, and make sure that everyone involved knows what’s expected of them. (Yeah, okay, that right there?  Way more energy than We have at Our disposal.  We’re gonna need to pencil that in for, say, early next week.  Mmmmkay?)

Your organizational skills might be rusty, (Possibly even gangrenous.)

but you can still get it done.  (Whence came “gangrenous”?  We’ve no idea.  (Although We were about to start a riff on “gangrenous” in Frawnch, i.e “gangre-nous”, but We thought better of it.  (You’re welcome.))  Perhaps, instead of quasi-coherent sentences, We should just begin making a list of all the words We know…)

aardvark

alabaster

Anabaptist

aqueduct

assimilate

attaché

awake

aware

aye

azure

(This is no fun.)

It’s the perfect time for you to organize a group outing (Fine.  The Boy Scouts?  Are gay.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

or party, (‘Cause tonight We’re gonna party like it’s nineteen twenty-nine.)

and you won’t need any excuse to get your people together. (Okay, do you even listen to yourself when you talk, you asshatted asshat who’s wearing her ass as a hat?  If We’ve organized a group outing or party, that IS Our excuse for getting “Our people” together.  Jeebus.)

Everyone’s feeling fine and in the mood to let loose with the laughter and have a good time. (Good.  Then they can all go to Olivia Newton-John’s shindig without Us.)

Why not figure out a way to get all your different social circles intertwined together?  (Because that sounds like absolute hell on earth?  Just a thought.)

Having all of your worlds collide (Said George Powell to his bride, “I’m gonna give you some terrible thrills.”)

doesn’t have to be stressful at all. (Not for you, maybe.  It’s OUR  worlds you’ve got colliding.  Bitch.)

After all, everyone has something in common — they adore you!   (We’ll have what she’s having.)

Get them talking about you and all will be fine.  (We can just imagine.)

Staying firmly in touch with your personal values now means you’re that much closer to attaining a certain romantic goal.  (Oh, please.  If you could see Us right now, the last thing you would imagine would be Us “attaining a romantic goal”.)

A long talk with a friend about what you want keeps you on target. (Ready…fire…aim.)

 

(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.

                                                                                                                                    

A person could develop a bad, bad cold

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Tuesday, September 25, 2012.

Three days coming, three days with you, three days going.  We are very confused.  Sunday was definitely a “coming” day, and today it is definitely “with Us”.  We are unclear as to what yesterday was, although it’s pretty clear that this shit ain’t gonna start going away until at least tomorrow.

Sigh.

And We had so many plans for things We needed to get done after the show closed.  Sitting around watching snot fall out of Our nose was, oddly, not on the list.  What a waste of a week.

Our apologies to Heather Locklear, but We are fairly sure you wouldn’t want Us to show up to your birthday festivities in Our current condition.

Meanwhile, from the No ‘Tard Left Behind Department, Presidential Candidate and Inappropriate Spray Tanner Mitt Rmoney doesn’t know why you can’t open the windows on  an airplane.  Is it just Us, or is this assclown starting to make Dumbya look smart?

Because We clearly have nothing, here are some tweets from Twatter:

Masturbating while looking in a mirror isn't wrong unless it's the rearview mirror and you're driving a school bus.

I wish babies would stop saying "hi" to me while in the checkout line.  I don't fucking know you.  Don't talk to me.

Your neck tattoo says "Only God can judge me", yet here I am.

Remember, if you're attractive, it's called persistence.  If you're ugly, it's called being a stalker.

It would be nice if people with lazy eyes would put a Post-It on the one they want me to look at when we're talking.

The best way to prepare Brussels sprouts is to throw them in the trash while ordering a delicious pizza.

You don't have to break my  heart to make me cry.  Just put me in Home Depot and tell me to find an air filter.

Here is last year’s Libra video to compare with this year’s (see above).  All of your insights have been so helpful so far, much like Helen Keller in an air traffic control tower.

It is difficult to believe that it was only three short weeks ago that HimSelf was named Groovy Reader of the Month over at Deep Dish:  http://marcharshbarger.blogspot.com/2012/09/groovy-reader-of-month-eric-singel.html

Here’s the HorrorScope:

Your leadership is rarely in question, and today shows why that’s the case.  (Because We’re all alone in OurHouseWhereWeLive?)

You take the reins at work or at home in a way that shows everyone concerned what’s what.   (Wait…We’re on a horse? Are We Isaiah Mustafa?)

Don’t look back!  (Or down.  Or in the basement.)

The future belongs to people who think for themselves, (That’s what YOU think.)

(Heh.)

so where does that leave you? (In bed, hopefully.)

Being a part of the crowd is important, (Ve vant to be alone.)

and you certainly don’t want to create tension among your people. (If We have so many damn people, why can’t one of ‘em be sick for Us?)

But when you start agreeing to things that you don’t actually believe in, that’s too far over the line. (One toke over the line, Sweet Jeebus…)

Today, you have to hold on to your convictions and keep your individuality.  (That sounds like a lot of work.  Can We do it tomorrow?  Or, preferably, next week?)

If other people react poorly to your opinions or disagreement, then that’s their problem to solve — not yours.  (Good.)

Make a few plans today.  (Perhaps We shall start in on next week’s social calendar.  Assuming, of course, that We live that long.)

You could bake a cheesecake (In what universe?)

or you could ask that good-looking stranger to grow old with you. (Yeah.  Because that’s a pick-up line that’ll work.)

You pick!  (You suck!)

 

(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.