Duke Duke Duke Duke of Earl

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherManHoleMonday(DidThatSoundDirtyToYou?BecauseItSoundedDirtyToUs,EvenThoughWeKnewWhatWeMeantAndItWasn’tDirty(No,Really)), February 24^rd , 2014.

Apparently, according to Twatter, Our life is incomplete because We don’t own any Andrew Christian™ underwear.  Le sigh.

On the other hand, she wore a glove. Also, perhaps Our life is incomplete because We don’t own any Andrew Christian™ underwear MODELS.

Happy Birthday, meanwhile, to OurMizGerre, who turns twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back, or at least the suburbs thereof. 

Happy Birthday also to Cathy, who also turns twenty-four today, way out west in Altoona.  Swimming pools, movie stars.

Happy Belated Birthday to Brian, Chris, Nick, Paul, Susan, and Lyle and his twin sister Lyell, each of whom turned twenty-four this past weekend.

The upcoming green bit, meanwhile, is a total repeat from Friday’s e-pissode.  The people who needed to read it and heed it obviously did not.  The rest of you may feel free to nakedly skim past it:

Switching gears (and, knowing Us, probably grinding them), We sometimes feel in here as though We are blowing onto a dead microphone like a dead-microphone-blowing idiot, saying, “Is this thing on?”  This past week has been like that, except not so much in here as out in what passes for The Real World.  Sigh.

We shall make an effort not to whine.

In still other news, We have begun having anxiety/panic attack dreams in anticipation of Our upcoming whirlwind of performance adventures.

Also, We could use your help, in a way that will not cost you any money nor require you to go anywhere.  If you have friends/relatives/associates/a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy in Greater Bostonia, please join Our SitOnMyFaceBook event for LOOKING FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour  this Friday, February 28^th, at Club Café in Boston:

http://www.clubcafe.com/looking-for-uranus-starzina-starfish-brownes-comeback-tour/

SitOnMyFaceBook event here:  

https://www.facebook.com/events/1402244933363959/

We could really use your help putting some butts in some seats at the preceding event.

We are also playing a date in Salem:

On Monday, March 3^rd, We will be at Opus Underground:

http://www.gooutloud.com/starzina/

SitOnMyFaceBook event here: 

https://www.facebook.com/events/1379652125635846/

When We return to The City Of Brotherly Love Handles, 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/

Somewhere in there (obviously AFTER all of that, We must make a plan (as should you) to see OurMizDonna in Lettice and Lovage (http://www.allenslane.org/ ).  MizDonna, is it true that they are doing Sunday matinees now?  Because We?  Are ALL ABOUT the Sunday matinees.  We shall don Our bluest wig…

(Notice how We have just assumed that OurMizDonna is in here?  She is A Faithful Gentle Reader of these e-pisstles.  And, while she may skim a bit, We suspect she does not do so nakedly, as she reads Us at her office…)

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 Justin Bieber:

And here’s the HorrorScope:

Our “celebrity” birthday website would like Us to know that Earl Sweatshirt is twenty today.  One imagined for a moment that he was someone like the Earl of Sandwich, until One came to One’s senses and realized that he was a rapper.  Of course, if OUR real name were (subjunctively) Thebe Neruda Kgositsile, We might call Ourself “Earl ArticleofClothing” too.  Although We’re fairly certain We would opt for something catchier than “Sweatshirt”.  Yes indeedy, ladies and genitals, if this ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulist) thing doesn’t work out for Us, We shall start a whole new career as a rapper.  Named “Earl Underoos™”.

If you’re not active today, you may wonder what you can do to change that.  (Dear. Lord. Jeebus.  If you’re “not active”, you can’t DO anything.  The stupid, it burns.)

Make sure that you’ve got multiple options in case anything falls through, and you should be right where you want to be.  (As long as there are multiple places you want to be…does this bitch even listen to herself when she talks?)

You have an opinion about where the current culture is headed, (Hell in a handbag?  Helena Bonham Carter?)

and you have a right to help alter that course if it is not to your liking. (We shall begin rapping on that subject any moment now.)

Standing up for what you believe in can make you feel better than you’d think.  (Sitting down feels nice, too.)

You can make a difference.  (Can We make it the same?)

You’re lots of fun to hang out with now.  (When you get to the end of your rope, tie a noose in it and hang on.)

Whether you’re out on a date or just heading out with the gang, you’re definitely turning heads  (Can We turn them 360 degrees?  Till they snap?)

— and you might even be causing a scene (Or an OBscene.).

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.

                                                                                                                                     

Everybody raise a glass! Raise it up the master’s ass!

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  Thursday, February 07, 2013.  We have just this moment learned that the last of the people who worked at Our old company prior to its acquisition by the Evil Acquiring Company (EAC) and who subsequently caused Us to lose Our position in the new regime has now been “made redundant”, as They say.  How do you spell “schadenfreude” and, more to the point, can you put it under “Special Skills” on a résumé ?

Meanwhile, from The Happy News That Actually Affects Us Department, We learned yesterday that the murder mystery We wrote for a local dinner theater has been accepted, subject to very minor revisions, and that a contract (and, subsequently, a blessed, blessed check) are imminent.

Which brings Us to the subject which is going to comprise the bulk of today’s e-pissode:

Our review of Les Miserables.

Could it have been any MORE miserable?  We don’t think so.  First of all, lettuce just say, whoever allegedly “directed” this fillum should be horsewhipped, then drawn and quartered, and all the pieces shot.  Since when is “Extreme Closeup” the answer to everything?  Especially when, with a few notable exceptions, none of the stars are wearing any makeup.  Not that they couldn’t have found a few spare hands to apply some, since, if you skip ahead to the credits, you will note that the entire populations of both Hollywood and France worked on this picture.  Of course, with the constant Extreme Closeups of people simultaneously singing and crying, half of those workers were clearly on permanent Booger Check Patrol.

Now, We are not going to attempt to tell you the entire story (which, as near as We can tell, was longer than the French Revolution), but We shall sketch in the salient points.  It concerns Hugh Jackman, who can sing, and Russell Crowe, who hits the same “note” over and over again and sounds as though someone were (subjunctively) kicking him in the balls.  Russell is the sheriff or some such of Paris (France, not Texas, which you can tell because everybody has British accents and calls each other “Monsieur”) and is in pursuit of Hugh, who is some sort of criminal. Russell’s pursuit is hampered by the fact that, although he looks exactly the same throughout all nine hours of the movie (except for a succession of varying Smart Gay Hats), he can only recognize Hugh when Hugh shoulders some heavy object a la Christ carrying His cross.  Hugh adds to this difficulty in recognition by disguising himself more and more as Marty Feldman throughout the course of the fillum.

Once the Hugh-Russell rivalry is thoroughly established, about thirteen hours into the fillum, Anne Hathaway turns up.  Of course, she only looks like Anne Hathaway for a few seconds before she starts selling off her hair, and her teeth, and her coochie.  She then treats Us to Our first Up-The-Nostril Extreme Closeup of the fillum as she sings the soul-stirring ballad, “Where Is My Oscar™ For Best Supporting Anorexic?”  Then she dies, because (A.) there were really no good roles for women in the French Revolution and (2.) if you play a whore AND you die, you are practically guaranteed an Oscar™.  Plus, as she said in a subsequent interview, “Judi Dench won an Oscar™ for eight minutes in Shakespeare in Love.  I am in this fillum for eight minutes that seem like an eternity; engrave my little gold statue NOW, bitches.”

It should be noted that, in a bizarre coincidence, once they cut all of her hair off, Anne Hathaway looks uncannily LIKE an Oscar™.  Except when she sings; then, she looks like the Reach™ toothbrush guy with the flip-top head.  (Did We mention that she only sold her BACK teeth?)

Once Anne is dead, about eighteen hours into the fillum, the director decides that, in order to wake up the audience, he will resort to the tried-and-true device of a fillum with a fillum.  So, when Hugh goes off to find Anne’s now-orphaned daughter, Crumpet, We suddenly find Ourselves in BizarroWorld, with innkeeper Helena Bonham Carter, who has apparently never bathed or changed her clothes since she made Sweeney Todd, and her husband, Jerry Lewis, as the guardians of the child.  They sing “The Worst Pies In London”, even though it’s Paris, while putting a prosthetic leg through a meat grinder.  Once they finish singing, about nineteen hours later, We discover that Jerry Lewis inexplicably has a quasi-French accent, while everybody else at the inn, and, indeed, in the entire fillum, has a British accent.  Except for Helena Bonham Carter who, as usual, never speaks above a mumble, so We never find out what kind of accent she has.  Apparently, Jerry Lewis is from a different part of France.

Helena and Jerry have a daughter who is Chinese.  Or a Mongoloid idiot…We may have dozed off somewhere in here; the fillum had been going on for three days at this point.  At any rate, their little China girl becomes important (much) later on, when little Crumpet grows up to be a pretty blond girl who can’t sing, and little China girl grows up to be Xena, Warrior Princess.

Some time the following week, a few strapping young tenors turn up in the fillum as a small perk for those of Us who are not into daddies, Hugh being in full-on Marty Feldman mode by now, and Russell having been kicked in the balls more times than We can count.  The main tenor, plot-point-wise, is a freckle-faced youth whom We imagine would be quite attractive under other circumstances, but (A.) many of the strapping extra tenors around him are more attractive and (2.) those freckles are very distracting.  Seriously, you couldn’t slap a little CoverGirl™ on that?

A triangle quickly (“quickly” being, in this fillum, a relative thing) develops between Freckles, Crumpet, and Xena Warrior Princess, and just as quickly is resolved when everybody realizes that Xena is a lesbian.  Also, she dies, as do all of the strapping extra tenors.  (Hey, if she’d only sold her coochie, she could have competed with Anne Hathaway for that Oscar™.)

Nine and a half weeks (and an interminable crawl through the sewers of Paris) later, Freckles and Crumpet are married, Russell kills himself when a production assistant inadvertently shows him the dailies, and Hugh decides to die when he realizes that his metamorphosis into Marty Feldman is complete.   All of the dead people are reunited in the afterlife, except Russell, who may finally have learned to kick himself in the balls.

FIN

Speaking of the French Revolution, We shall be playing The VD Match Game on Friday and Saturday, February 15 and 16, at 7:30 at L’Etage.  You can obtain tickets here http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/331562 and find more info here
http://www.facebook.com/events/279672565493605/  Our Sistah Ovella, for those of you who know her, will be playing also.

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

And here are the HorrorScopes:

Despite having given up thirteen months of Our life to watch that miserable fillum, somehow it is all made better by the fact that it is Ashton Kutcher’s birthday.  Our horoscope, meanwhile, is below.  We are too faint with hunger to answer it as usual; We must go steal a loaf of bread.  Please feel free to answer it in Our stead.  (Hey, that rhymed!)

You need to make an extra effort today — though that may come naturally. Your drive for success is fully activated, and you should find that your energy is pushing in the right direction.  Just because you have extremely positive feelings about someone doesn’t mean that everyone else does, so make no assumptions today. If no one is as excited about them as you are right now, don’t worry about it. You need to tone down your excited feelings anyway — and let other people see for themselves what’s so great about this person. Only then can they understand why you are feeling the way you do, and only then can they come over to your way of thinking. A stint of long, hard labor means that your social life falls by the wayside for a brief amount of time. It’s worth it. After all, you can’t live on love alone. Other projects and career prospects take precedence now.

 (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 won’t send roses

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for  IfMondayIsManicMondayDoesThatMakeItDepressiveTuesdayAndIfSoMayWeJustGoBackToBedNow, December 11, 2012.  Happy birthday to Beth, who turns twenty-four today.  Also, happy birthday to Michael, who also turns twenty-four today.  Also too, happy birthday to Darin, who also too turns twenty-four today.  Also too in addition, happy birthday to Richard, who turns twenty-four today also too in addition. Not to mention also too in addition plus, happy birthday to John, who also too in addition plus turns twenty-four today.

That is one metric fuckton of birthday cake.  And a whole lotta folks co-inky-dink-ally turning twenty-four all on the same day.  Also, some kind of orgy clearly occurred in March, 1988.  Was that the year they had Woodstock II?

In other news, We have reached an opinion about the tea We have been drinking.  Our opinion is that We would like a cup of coffee, FuckYouVeryMuch.  So that is what We are having.

We also neglected to mention that, in addition to watching Not-So-Magic Mike this weekend, We also partook of the Dark Shadows fillum.  Could We get some sort of intervention going to pry Johnny Depp loose from the artistically-bankrupt clutches of Tim Burton and his hellspawn wife?  KThxBye.

We have very little else to report.  We shall be going out Christmas shopping a little bit later.  And, of course, all of your calls, letters, and well-wishes on the occasion of Our 666^th Eric’s Daily Horoscope e-pissode in Bloggonia yesterday continue to pour in.  We can barely move in here for the number of floral tributes.  Earlier, We slipped on a hibiscus blossom and a gladiola went up Our ass.  At least We think it was a gladiola…come to think of it, We haven’t seen Our houseboy since.

Dammit…We invented that houseboy character just for the purpose of that joke; now We’re gonna be forced to keep track of him.  The things We do for YouPeople. Why, if We had two nickels to rub together, We’d trade ‘em in for a dime.

That there was for Our Sistah Ovella, who gets tickled by Our nickels.  We won’t tell you what she gets triggered by.

Speaking of Christmas shopping, once One has been shopping, One has to do wrapping.  And here, with a few tips, is everybody’s favorite Aunt Chippy:

Here, in case you missed it the past four days, is where to get tickets to Heavy Metal Dance Fag:

http://www.annenbergcenter.org/tickets/?id=265#

Here, in case you’ve missed it every day since November 25, is the link with which to share Our Sagittarius video with your friends:

http://youtu.be/6f1m5GLfk1Y

Meanwhile, this just in from Helen Keller on Twitter (Why, yes, We DO follow Helen Keller on Twitter; thanks for asking.): 

Helen Keller ‏@Helen_KelIer

I see London, I see France. I see ---- Nevermind.

Helen Keller ‏@Helen_KelIer

That awkward moment when actions are just as quiet as words.

Helen Keller ‏@Helen_KelIer

Knock knock! *who's there* I don't know.

Here’s the HorrorScope:

 From The Department Of People Who Have Porno Names, it is Rider Strong’s birthday today.  Just in case you’ve been missing him since Boy Meets World left the airwaves.

There’s a lot more going on than meets the eye, (To say nothing of Uranus.)

 

(No, really….say NOTHING.)

 

(How many of you are picturing Uranus speaking now?  With a quack-quack here, and a quack-quack there…)

 

(We kill Us.)

 

so you ought to make sure that you are dealing with it appropriately. (We’re telling jokes about Uranus talking…how “appropriate” do ya think We’re gonna get?)

 

It’s a tough time for sure, but that just means you need to step up and be a grown-up about it!  (You’re no fun, ya big meanie-head.)

 

You’re eager for a sense of renewal to come into your life (What, We’re a library book?)

 

(Is it just Us, or are We suddenly channeling Aunt Chippy?)

 

— both in terms of the environment around you, (As opposed to the environment that’s NOT around you?)

 

and in terms of your own emotions. (We second that.)

 

(SuBtle is Our middle name.)

 

If you’re feeling stale, you need to create your own fresh air and sunshine (Yeah.  Because We’re just like God.  Only with better shoes.)

--- in the form of good energy and good times with your friends. (Apropos of nothing, We have been meaning to tell you that, when you see Us in Our videos, Our nail polish is called “Rock The Night Away” and Our lipstick is called “Cherry Rain”.  Just in case you’re attempting to recreate Our look.  You’re welcome.)

 

 

Get together with the silliest folks you know (Way to narrow it down.)

 

and have a ball (ExSQUEEZE Us?)

 

just sitting around complaining about the weather. (Wow.  That sounds like fun.  Except for the “fun” part.)

 

You can’t go wrong when you’re with them.  (Don’t underestimate Us.)

 

If you’re sensing something weird between you and a certain someone, don’t get mad or try to get even.  (First figger out whether it’s a gladiola or the houseboy.)

 

Figure out what’s really happening first (That’s what We said.)

 

— then figure out how you really feel about it.  (Especially if it’s the houseboy with a bouquet of gladiolas.  (You don’t bring Us flowers any more.))

 

 

(You’re 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.