Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Friday’s Eve (for that “not-so-fresh” feeling), September Eighteenst, 2014.
Happy Birthday to Nick who turns twenty-four
today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.
Happy Birthday also to Dan, who is in
rehearsal for turning twenty-four today, also right here in The City That Loves
You (On Your) Back.
Happy Birthday additionally also too to OurAmericanCousin
Liz, who is also in rehearsal for turning twenty-four today (who let all these
youngsters in here?). In Idaho. (And how
often, within these hallowed e-pisstles, do We get to say that anything happened
“in Idaho”?)
(Idaho, for those of Our Gentle Readers who
are geographically challenged (as We are), is a Canadian province wedged
between Saskatchewan and Krakatoa.
(Canada, meanwhile, is an extremely large
country to Our north. It was established
in 1837 by Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy for the express purpose of
keeping Alaskans away from the normal people.
It is so large, in fact, that it is actually possible for two people
from Canada to be unacquainted with each other.
For example, We are fairly certain that OurAmericanCousin Liz does not
know Our WorldWideInterWebNetzian friend Nat (hi, Nat!), who lives in the
Canadian province of Scova Notia, where he is active in politics and is
handsome.
(Scova Notia is separated from Idaho by
several other large Canadian provinces, as yet unnamed and uninhabited, most of
which contain wildlife preserves, and one of which functions, inexplicably, as
a stand-in for New York City in movies and television shows.
(Co-inky-dinkally, OurAmericanCousin Liz is originally
from Annapolis, You-Ess-Ay, and We have just learned from mapquest (or maybe
okcupid…We don’t recall) that there is an Annapolis in Scova Notia as well.) )))
(Is Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! educational or what?)
(Who said, “Or what”?)
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Switching gears, in other news, We are having
a preposterous and very easily distracted month. It seems that every time We start to do
something We are interrupted by something else We need to be doing, until that
in turn gets interrupted. It’s as though
We have the attention span of---oh, look, a balloon!
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In other news, The WaitStaff Sh!ts The Bed!
has been consistently SOLD OUT (and very
well-received) , so if you want to curry
favor with Us by showing up (because
mmmm….curried favor) get your tickets now and/or quick, fast and in a hurry: http://fringearts.com/event/the-waitstaff-sht-the-bed-10/
(That assumes (thereby making an ass of
Uma Thurman) that there are any of said tickets left; We have no idea.) The
show plays twice more, Friday and Saturday at 8 at L’Etage, and, if you
perchance lay your hands upon tickets for Friday, you will encounter the extra
added attraction of Us Our Own Self Personally working box office. Because We’re multitalented like that.
We Our Own Self Personally
will next be performing in Our murder
mystery at the Murder Mystery Factory on
Friday, September 26. If you are
interested in seeing Us perform in same, holla at Us. (For those naked skimmers who may not be
aware, We have been promoted to A Position Of Power at the Factory, and so will
be performing somewhat less.)
************************************
Speaking of lemurs on Uranus,
(howZZAT for a segue?), here is a
flashback to Our FIRST Virgo video, the one with the naked angel:
And
heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:
In celebrity birthday news, We had planned to
stick with Our Canadian theme, and find famous Canadianese whose birthdays were
today. Until Our celebrity birthday
website distracted Us with the news that today is the birthday of Our future
ex-husband, Patrick Schwarzenegger. Who,
it would seem, has taken up modelling.
Holy merry mugger of dogs.
It has been a while since We’ve done
call-and-response with AssHatted Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Kelli. So right away We give you some:
This is a
good time to think about home and what it means to you. (Well, ya know what They say: “Home is where the hard-on”.)
(They say
the weirdest things, don’t They?)
In fact, (Didja ever wonder why nobody ever starts a sentence with “In
fiction”?)
you may get
a message from family or those closest to you that draws you backward a bit. (Is it just Us, or does something about the phrase “draws
you backward a bit” just SCREAM, “Engrish is my second ranguage!”?)
It’s for
the best! (Which is ALWAYS true, especially when it’s said with an
emphatic exclamation point.)
(Except
not.)
After
thinking about big changes for so long and not breathing a word to anyone, the
solution suddenly dawns on you. (Get tougher rats.)
If you
really want to change, (If everybody’s being different,
isn’t it different to stay the same?)
(Jean Paul
Sartre WISHES he were (subjunctively) as goddamn existential as We are. (Of
course, first, he probably wishes he weren’t dead.))
you can
force yourself out of your rut (Sometimes you feel like a rut;
sometimes you don’t.)
(Rut-roh.)
by moving
long distance. (Me ruv you rong time.)
(Kiss Us
quick, We’re Anna May Wrong.)
It means
you have to change your residence, your job, your relationships and your
habits. (Oh, is THAT all?)
If it
sounds refreshing rather than frightening, (Yeah, not
so much.)
you need to
get busy, (From your lips to God’s voicemail.)
because
it’s past time. (But if it’s past time, how can you
tell WHEN it is?)
When it
comes to your outlandish singles lifestyle, (Which is
the EXACT phrase people use when they observe Our life.)
press
pause. (Izzat a euphemism?)
The economy
isn’t exactly full steam ahead just yet, so cut back on spending. (We are still trying to figger out the sound of one nickel
rubbing together.)
(We so
poor, We can’t even pay attention.)
Entertain
at home (We would love to. What time is Patrick Schwarzenegger getting here?)
instead of
spending lots of time (Wait…wasn’t it past time just a
few sentences ago? Learn English,
fercrissakes. Damn Canadians.)
and money
at the bar. (“The bar”. As though there’s only one.)
Figure out
your debt and start paying it down. (Wow. You go wit’ yo’ bad seff, Auntie Climax.)
Namaste, MotherFuckers.
In gaseousness,
Starzina Starfish-Browne
(Your Your-O-Scopes:
(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.
