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!)

*****************************************************************************

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.

                                                                                                                                     

Ain't it a bitch?

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for HumpDayHumpDayHumpDay,  December 18^st, 2013.

Happy Birthday to Gwen, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back. 

Happy Birthday also to Melissa, who also turns twenty-four today, somewhere in Delaware.  Melissa once played Our mother in a show, despite being only twenty-four.  We, of course, were twenty-four at the time. (Where is the time machine?  It’s in the credenza.  Where is the credenza?  It’s in the time machine.)

(Is it just Us, or does “Somewhere in Delaware” sound like a song from a lost Rodgers and Hammerstein musical? )

(Going in a different direction, is it just Us, or does “Delaware” sound like it should mean “aware of Dels”?  (The only Del of whom We Our Own Self Personally are aware is Del Shores, author of Sordid Lives and Cheatin’, amongst other things.  (Hi, Del!)))

We feel today as though the purpose of Holidailies™ (for you naked skimmers, that would be the community writing project in which We have been participating which encourages blogginators to blogginate on a daily basis for the month of December  (http://www.holidailies.org)) is to make One so sick of One’s Own blog, and, indeed, of the sound of One’s Own voice that, come January 1^th,  One packs One’s keyboard into a trunk in One’s attic and takes a vow of silence.

We do, in fact, have a point, but We are going to come to it roundaboutly.  (We are also going to randomly create adverbs where no adverbs existed before.  You’re WELCOME.)

Today is Brad Pitt’s birthday.  He is fifty.  Do you think the AARP sent him an application?  Today is also Katie Holmes’s birthday.  Her ex-husband is Tom Cruise.  Brad Pitt’s ex-wife is Jennifer Aniston.  Brad Pitt’s current wife is Angelina Jolie.  Tom Cruise’s current wife is the poolboy.

If We ran Holly wood, We’d put them all in a movie together.

Weren’t We JUST SAYING, “Why aren’t We making movies?”

Which brings Us to Our point:  an excerpt from the archives.  Excerpts from Katie Holmes’s diary, prior to her marriage to Tom Thumb…er, Cruise.  Following which, We are outtie for Christmas shopping:

EXCERPTS FROM KATIE H’S DIARY

April 28, 2005

Dear Diary,

Finally I can reveal the secret I’ve been keeping, even from YOU, Dear Diary:  Tommy C. and I are an ITEM!!!  My people have been seeing his people for about a month now, and his publicist finally decided the time was right to announce that we are a couple!!!  I didn’t even dare write about it in here, Dear Diary, for fear that someone would steal YOU the way they stole all those phone numbers from that slut Paris H’s cell phone.

Tommy is SOOO refreshing, especially after dating Chris K for all that time.  I mean, Chris is cute and all, but who can even name a movie he’s been in?  I mean, like AMERICAN PIE…what-EVER.  And Tommy is, like, THE Major Hollywood Movie Star.  This is gonna be SOOO great for my career. I mean, look what he did for Nicole, and my boobies are WAAAY bigger than hers.  And it’ll be good for him, too.  I mean, it’s about time he started dating an American girl, instead of all these foreigners and Australians and stuff.

Plus, Dear Diary, just between you and me, when it comes to, you know, S-E-X…well, Chris had this REEAALLY big winkie, which could hardly fit in my hoo-hoo, and he wanted to put it there like ALL the time, and leave it there for like HOURS, and I’d wind up all sweaty, with my hair all messed up, and I’d have to re-do my makeup.  But Tommy hardly EVER puts his winkie in my hoo-hoo, and, when he does, it’s just the right size, because I don’t even notice that it’s there, and plus he only puts it there for like a minute, so my hair and makeup looks exactly the same when it’s over, and really, it’s not how you feel, it’s how you look.

So anyway, now that we are officially dating, and can be seen in public, Tommy is gonna take me to meet some of his friends at his church.  I’m not sure what church it is…the name sounded like “gynecology”, but I know that can’t be it, because that’s a hoo-hoo doctor.  I just know it’s not anything I’ve heard of before, like Presbyterian or Episcopalian.  I’m sure it’s something really special, just like Tommy.  I just hope it’s not that Kielbasa thing that Madonna and Demi M. are into, because somebody told me that’s kind of Jewish, and I don’t think my fans would like it if it turned out that I killed Jesus.

Love,

Katie

May 2, 2005

Dear Diary,

Tommy took me to his church yesterday.  It’s the Church of Scienceology, not gynecology.  (I get words like that mixed up sometimes.  So does Tommy, because he’s dyspeptic.)

We flew there in a helicopter, and I had to wear a blindfold, because I’m not a member of the church yet, so I’m not allowed to know where it is.  It felt just like we were in one of Tommy’s MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE movies.  (Note to self:  No more hoo-hoo for Tommy till he agrees to put me in the next MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE movie.)  Then we had to circle for a long time, because the church people had planted a bunch of flowers for our arrival, but they didn’t match my dress, so Tommy had them rip all the flowers up and plant new ones before we got there.  How kewl is THAT?

Anyway, it wasn’t like a church at all, more like a big resort in the middle of the desert.  And there was no service, which was good, because I get SOOO bored when other people talk for too long.  AND I got to meet some fat old guy who used to be John Travolta, and that fat lady who was on CHEERS when she was thin, but now has a show about being a fat lady, which I think is really stupid, but she was REEEAALLLY nice to me, so it was okay.  And when Tommy and the John Travolta guy went off to get massages, we showed each other our hoo-hoos, but I got really scared ‘cause her thighs kind of moved ALL ON THEIR OWN, so I made her stop.  Did I mention she was REEEALLY fat?

So, later, the four of us and a bunch of Tommy’s other church friends got together and they talked about a bunch of stuff I didn’t understand, like N-grams and futons and E-meters.  I made a joke about E! True Hollywood Story, but nobody laughed, so I didn’t make any more jokes. Tommy said I didn’t understand because I wasn’t clear, but I didn’t think THEY were being very clear, but I didn’t say so.  It was kinda like that time James v-d-B took me to that party with all his weird guy friends in the funny leather costumes, and all anybody talked about was Special K and circuit parties.  *I* didn’t think it sounded like much of a party if all they served was cereal, but I didn’t want to say so, because James was always so sensitive about his friends. And the fact that he was going bald.

Anyway, Tommy says if I want to, I can join his church, because they have a “special process for celebrities”.  Well, DUH.  I mean, it’s not like we’re just ordinary people or something.

Love,

Katie

In other other news, who has opposable thumbs and will be performing not once, but TWICE in Centre Theatre’s Independent Voices Festival in January?  That’s right, ladies and genitals, this Foul-mouthed, All-knowing Goddess!

That’s right, mark your calendars for Sunday, January 12 at 8PM and Friday, January 17 at 8PM, in Beautiful Downtown Norristown for the triumphant return of LOOKING FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour!

Check out the SitOnOurFaceBook event (https://www.facebook.com/events/259746334150716/ (FYI That is NOT Our mouth in the logo.)), and keep your eyes glued…GLUED, goddammit…to this space for further developments (We don’t even think tickets are available yet, but you, Gentle Readers, will be the first to know when they are, so you can snatch (heh) them up.)

This will not, as you may have guessed, be the only reminder you will receive of this upcoming event.  Stay tuned also for other appearances in the Greater Philadelphia Area and up and down the Eastern Seaboard.  Because Starzina is nothing if not peripatetic.  (Also poetic and chic.)

In still other other other news We are once again sharing with you Our very most favoritest Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope  video (Sagittarius) with you (see above).  Here is the link with which you may share it with others: http://youtu.be/6f1m5GLfk1Y  You’re welcome.

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.

                                                                                                                                     

And it seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind

Hello, Ducks!

             

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for FriedEgg, November 1^th, 2013.  Happy All Saints Day to all you saints who are reading this.  We are sure you are both very nice, and hope you go marching in.  Whatever the fuck that means.

This being a daily horoscope, it has felt most peculiar to go all these days running without anyone to whom to wish a happy birthday. But that is all over now…Happy Birthday to David, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in Greater Bostonia.  Happy Birthday also to Beth, who also turns twenty-four today, somewhere suburbanly related to The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.

(Micro$oft Weird™ is trying to tell Us that “suburbanly” is not a word, when it is obvious to everyone that, if “suburban” is the adjective, “suburbanly” is the adverb.  Shut up, Micro$oft Weird™.  We can adverb if We want to; We can leave your friends behind. ‘Cause your friends don’t adverb and if they don’t adverb, then they’re no friends of Ours.)

(Sorry.  Just a little “Safety Dance” to brighten up an otherwise dreary morning.  (And, now that We type it out, how did We never notice that rude reference to “your friend’s behind” ever before?))

Happy Birthday also too to Jen, who also too turns twenty-four today, all the way out in Wisconsin.  And here, We thought We only knew ONE person in Wisconsin, and one person in Wisconsin temporarily at that.

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to John, who turns Twenty-Four today, Our SitOnOurFaceBook informs Us, in Phoenix, Arizona.  We were about to remark that that was news to Us, but then We went Googling through the Wikipedia of Our archives, and found this, from one year ago today:

{Insert WayBackMachine sound effects here}

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for  Thursday, November 01th, 2012.  Happy Dia de los Muertos to all Our dead readers out there.  Also to Fred and Ethel Muertos.  And Happy All Saints Day to Our Catholic readers.  (That sort of pales by comparison to “Dia de los Muertos”, dunnit?  Especially if you manage to roll that tricky R in the middle there. (What?  Ricky Ricardo would do it.))

How We got from Dia de los Muertos to I Ruv Roosy, We haven’t got any idea.  (And Micro$oft Weird™ autocorrecting “Ruv” to “Rub” didn’t help matters, neither.)  At any rate, Happy Birthday to John, who turns twenty-four today.  Our SitOnMyFaceBook informs Us that, although he used to be in Africa, he is now in Arizona.  Apparently, he is seeing the world alphabetically. Which (and if you don’t see this coming, you may not know Us as well as you think) would seem to be A Long Way To Tipperary.

Heh.  We kill Us.

Also, Happy Birthday to Beth, who also turns twenty-four today.  In Suburbia.  Which, say what you will, is alphabetically much closer to Tipperary.

(We were about to embark on a long dissertation concerning the distance to Uranus, but We stopped Ourself in the nick of time.  You’re welcome.)

(Having, however, thus cited It’s A Long Way To Tipperary AND Uranus as a geographic destination, We may be inspired to craft an original song about Uranus for Our upcoming Starzina One Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Show, coming soon to a theatre near YOU. (Or near U.  (And Uranus.))

(Is anyone else hearing “U and Uranus” to the tune of “Me and My Shadow” now?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

{Discontinue WayBackMachine sound effects here}

Those faithful Gentle Readers without short-term memory impairment will also recall just yesterday, when We swore to eschew (gesundheit (thank you)) picturing people naked, as follows:

                 

“Speaking of dreams, in the wake of all of Our recent “Picturing People Naked” Weeks, We would like you all to know that, as We move into a brand new month, We shan’t be picturing anybody naked for a while.  No, indeed, We shan’t be Envisioning Allen’s Tomahawk, or Tiptoeing Through The Tulips Of Kevin’s Manscaping, or Picturing…well, We never DID actually SEE Peter naked, but a girl can dream, can’t she?  There will be no more conjuring up images of Lex’s eggroll, only to re-conjure them half an hour later when We are hungry again, and no more imagining what tricks or treats are nestled like sugarplums in OurThreeSons’ Jeggings™. (Is it warm in here, or is it just Us?)

We trust that none of these lovely gentlemen will expire from the dearth of attention.  And We sincerely hope they will keep perusing these e-pisstles, despite their absence from their pages. Perhaps they will even deign to explain how it is that We didn’t receive so much as a single sext after almost of month of this shameless behavior…”

And here We are, a mere twenty-four hours later, torn between (two lovers, feelin’ like a feel (SHADDUP!)) picturing John-from-Arizona-by-way-of-Zimbabwe naked or picturing Our good friend Miss-Udderly-Wisconsin-Dairy-Queen-Twenny-Thirteen naked.

We think We shall have to opt for picturing John naked now, and Our other friend later.  After all, if We picture John naked today, We can picture him with a candle in his cake.

(Oh, please…who didn’t see THAT coming?)

And, after a month of the shenanigantics described above, We did receive the following billet-doux from one of the gentlemen in question yesterday:

I'm sorry I couldn't provide an evidence of my maleness for you, my dear sir, but I do seem to recall a cache of incriminating evidence is already at your disposal. And as very little has changed in the, oh Jesus 14 years or so since that time, I can assure you very little has changed with the exception of a scar which travels from the navel down and provides a center aisle through the crowd around the acropolis, if you get my meaning. I hope that little (ahem) image provides at least a smile.

We have chosen to respond in this forum.  We shall even abandon The Royal We for the occasion:

MY Dear Sir,

Thank you so much for your response.  It was certainly not as “evidence of your maleness” that I requested your headshot (as it were).  Having seen such evidence on a number of occasions lo, those many years ago, I did not imagine that your “maleness” would be deserting you any time soon.

I note your employment of the term “little” three times in the course of one brief paragraph, twice preceded by “very”.  This does not square with my recollection.  However, the “cache of incriminating evidence” (which has certainly NOT reached the disposal) that you mention is much more discreet than you perhaps recall, having been collected at a time before we all ran around with cameraphones in our pants.

You will note that I have protected your anonymity to the best of my ability.  Although it should be clear to all concerned that you are NOT one of MyThreeSons, as causing any one of them to appear naked in public FOURTEEN YEARS AGO would have been a felony.

Rest assured that imagining the “crowd around your acropolis” continues to provide a smile and then some.

Your humble servant,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

Changing gears completely, The Little Show That Could, LOOKING FOR URANUS: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour ,  (to which We presciently referred in the bit above from the WayBackMachine) will be returning for one night only on Sunday, November 10 at 7:30 at L’Etage.  Get your tickets here:  http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/499391  . Dammit.

And here is the HorrorScope:

In “celebrity” birthdays, both Coco Martin AND Coco Crisp were born today.  Who knew?  Or cared?

Just pay attention today — (Sorry…did you say something?)

that mystery is sure to be resolved if you can just listen to what your partner or friend or customer is saying.  (And we’d’ve made it, too, if it weren’t for those pesky kids.)

Somewhere buried in the words is the gem of truth.  (When We first read that, We read it as “buried in the woods”.  That way’s better.)

When you get a closer look at someone’s plans today, you will see quite a few holes in their way of thinking. (Meanwhile, the preceding sentence becomes much more awesome if you replace “plans” with “pants”.  Especially if you keep in mind the “candle in his cake” euphemism from earlier.)

This is a tough call: Do you burst their bubble, or let them live in blissful ignorance?  (So, essentially, what you’re saying is, if you see The Boy In The Plastic Bubble, do you tell him he’s gonna grow up to be That Fat Guy Who Used To Be John Travolta?)

(Pop culture makes everything so much clearer, dunnit?)

You’ll have to use all of your tact and charm to get what you want  (What if what We want is more tact and charm?  THEN WHAT???)

— which is for them to re-evaluate their idea and not get defensive about the fact that you’re not immediately in love with it. (We’re just gonna sit here and picture a candle in his cake till this bitch shuts her piehole.  KThxBye.)

They need a dose of reality, and you are the best person to give it to them.  (“Piehole” is so too a word.  So there ya go.)

Think about what they want to hear, when they want to hear it and who they want to hear it from.  (How can We think about ANYTHING, after the headache that sentence has given Us?)

 

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.