Why don’t you tell me ‘bout the mystery dance?

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  Friday, August Twoth, Twoth-ousand thirteen.  Happy birthday to Edgar, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in Greater Bostonia.

We are very excited today, as, at Our murder mystery this evening, We are having guests!  That practically NEVER happens!  (Our employer, of course, would have it that We ALWAYS have “guests”, however, in this instance, We mean personal guests whom We know.)

(In case you were concerned that We had suddenly gone sane, We will have you know that, when We typed “at Our murder mystery” up there, We distinctly heard Kathy Bates’s character from Misery saying, “At Our murder mystery, Mister Murderer, now get in the cock-a-doody car!”)

This being the fourth day We are mentioning this, perhaps even the naked skimmers are catching up:  being on the cutting edge of hip-hop-happenin’ modern trends as We are, We are attempting to raise funds to produce Our Fringe Festival show,  Looking for Uranus: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour,  via crowdsourcing. 

To that end, We have launched a Kickstarter project (Kickstarter being one of the two major crowdsourcing websites), which you should go and look at here:  http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/635878991/looking-for-uranus-starzina-starfish-brownes-comeb  When you do go there, you will need to click on the big pixture of Us in order to play the video, which should amuse you even if you are unable to contribute to the project.

Another way to help out (and thanks to the many of you who have already done this) is to share the project with your SItOnMyFaceBook friends.

Also thanks to all of Our early-bird investors (why exactly One would WANT a worm is somewhat beyond Us, but whatevs), whose generosity has pushed Us over the 25%- funded mark!

(Please do NOT let this fact deter you from helping out…We only get the funds if We become 100% funded.)

And here is the HorrorScope:

Okay, Butch Patrick, who played Eddie Munster?   Is sixty today.  If anyone’s looking for Us, We’ll be pooping Our Depends™ while We drink a vodka and Geritol™.  (Do they even MAKE Geritol™ anymore?  Or does saying “Geritol™” to denote “something that old people use” peg One as an old person, because they don’t even make it any more?  (We just Googled Geritol™ on Wikipedia…they DO still make it.  Also, it is 12% alcohol.  Kiss Us quick, We’re Lucille Ball.))

Details are aggravating today  (Also aggravating is the leg cramp with which We woke up, which is clearly going to impede Our errand-running progress.  Sigh.)

— you’ve got to either skip past (Well, okay.  If, by “skip”, you mean “limp”.)

them or delegate them to someone who can handle them with more patience.  (Hmmm….”someone with more patience”….well, that narrows it right down to, oh, say, ANYDAMNBODY.)

Keep your eyes on the big picture!   (Was that a fat joke?)

Someone who is far away is going to be on your mind today  (Indeed.  ‘Cause he posted hawtt pixtures of hisself on the InterNetz.)

— and you are on their mind as well. (We somehow doubt that.)

(Let’s just hold Our breath here and wait for him to get in touch, shall We?)

In fact, they’ve been thinking about you for a while now and are eager to get back in contact — perhaps they’ve even started a game of phone tag with you.  (Mmm-hmm.  “Phone Duck-Duck-Goose” more like.  Except without the goose.)

(Does anyone have a clue what the hell We’re talking about?  Because We seem to have lost the thread…)

If so, today you need to make an extra effort to reconnect with them.  (Remind Us exactly why WE always have to make all the (useless, futile) extra efforts?)

Not all of the people from your past are meant to be left there.   (Um, yeah, they pretty much are.  Because otherwise, life’s just one big long game of emotional Whack-A-Mole™, and ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat.)

(Does it occur to anyone else that “Whack-A-Mole” looks as though it should rhyme with “guacamole”?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.  At Our murder mystery, Mister Murderer, now get in the cock-a-doody car!)

It’s time to buckle down (Also, buckle up for safety, buckle up!  (What was that part about Geritol™ again?))

and get back to racking up some accomplishments. (And hacking up some hairballs.)

That could mean doing a little love-related research (Is that a  euphemism?)

or a follow-up with a recent date, (Unfortunately, Our most recent dating was carbon dating.)

but make sure you take some kind of action soon.  (Why?  There’ll just be an equal and opposite REaction.  (Kiss Us quick, We’re Sir Isaac “Big Fig” Newton.))

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!)

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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.

                                                                                                                                     

I wanna kiss the bride

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Friday, June 28, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Avram, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in suburbia. Also, Happy Birthday to LaVonne, who  also turns twenty-four today, albeit in Altoona or thereabouts.

We did not make up either of those names, just so ya know.

In other news, must it seriously rain Every. Single. Goddamn. Day.  FOR THE REST OF OUR NATURAL LIVES???

Meanwhile, those of you on Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! Marriage Vigil will be both flummoxed and flabbergasted to hear that no one has proposed to Us yet again, for the second day running.  Although a str8 boi did butter Us up.  But We suspect he was after something other than Our hand in marriage.  (Please note that no actual dairy products were harmed in the creation of this paragraph.)

And this just in from Serious Eats: New York:  “A Whole Smoked Hog In Queens!”  What sort of circuit party will those crazy queens think up next?

Here is a random piece of videosity to silly up your Friday morning:

In still other news, We apparently owe an apology to all of Our SitOnMyFaceBook friends.  You see, yesterday, We were joining a social media group called GoodReads, in which One rates books One has read, and receives suggestions based on same and from One’s friends.  We had arrived at a step where We thought We were contacting Our SitOnMyFaceBook friends who were already part of the group, but it would seem that Our newly refurbished computer was going too fast for Us, and We wound up inviting everyone who had ever SatOnOurFace.  So We do apologize, please feel free to ignore Our invitation to join a group of which you’ve never heard, and it’s all Literary Heartthrob Christopher Rice’s fault.

In other news, 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?

We just received a notification that Top Brass™ Vodka, whatever THAT may be, is following Us on Twatter.  We must be more legendary than We had previously imagined.

And here is the HorrorScope:

Get in the cock-a-doodie car, Mister Man, because it’s Kathy Bates’s birthday.  It is also the birthday of Our future ex-husband, John Cusack.

You have to divert some of your great energy toward other people today — (Is it just Us, or would this be the perfect place for a fart joke?  (Of course, is there ever a NON-perfect place for a fart joke?))

otherwise, you may find that things start to get pretty crazy when their needs start to outweigh yours.  (Outweigh?  Oh, please.  Have you SEEN Our ass lately?  Ain’t nobody gonna outweigh this mess.)

After thinking about making changes for so long and not mentioning it to anyone, the obvious solution has suddenly dawned on you:  (You will pry Our Tuesday panties off of Our cold, dead crotch, bee-yotch.)

(Wow, that was actually much more disgusting than We had anticipated.)

(Also, in the midst of all the disgust, how many Gentle Readers noticed that “crotch” and “bee-yotch” rhyme?  Apparently, We are a poet, but We are unaware of it.)

If you really want to change,  (We will take all the change We can get.  Rubbing these two nickels together has gotten really, really old.)

what could possibly fulfill that urge more dramatically than moving, long distance?  (More dramatically than moving long distance…hmmm…how about gender reassignment surgery?)

(Please note that We are not in any way CONTEMPLATING gender reassignment surgery, but you must agree that it would be WAAAAYYY more dramatic than moving to Dubuque.  (Although We might be tempted to consider gender reassignment surgery if they’d let Us ADD a gender.  After all, if We were (subjunctively) reassigned as a hermaphrodite, that would sort of double Our chances, no?  (Of course, two times zero is still zero, and, with Our luck, the only thing that would increase if We were a hermaphrodite would be Our ability to go fuck Ourself.))

To extricate Ourself from this verbal morass (if only it were so easy to extricate Ourself from this literal more ass), this seems like an excellent place for The Lovely And Talented Willam Belli and The Vagina Song:

(If you need Us to tell you this is Not Safe For Work, We’ve got some swampland in Florida to sell you:)

After all, that would mean you’d have to change your home, your job, all your relationships and all your habits. (Do you think We’d get laid more if We wore a habit?)

 If all this sounds invigorating rather than frightening, get busy, (We’d love to…with whom?)

the sooner the better.  (We’re pretty sure that saying is actually “the bigger, the better”.  Just sayin’.)

You and a dear friend are stuck in a romantic dilemma — you’re probably both attracted to the same hottie!  (And sloppy seconds are okay with Us.)

Weigh all your options (Again with this “weighing” business.  It’s like this is one big fat joke.)

and check your motivation. (At the door?)

Is it really worth ending a friendship over?  (You’re the Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist)…you tell Us.)

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.