Their house is a museum where people come to see 'em…they really are a scree-um

 Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Toothy, July 5, 2011.  Greetings from Casa de Crackpot, where We have been up since The Dawn’s Early Light.  Not to mention The Rockettes’ Red Hair, The Old Frigidaire, Made Poop In the Night, Then We Shagged Fred Astaire.  (Kiss Us quick, We’re Christina Aguilera.) And by “up since The Dawn’s Early Light”, We mean 4AM, when We sat bolt upright next to Himself in bed, having just had a dream with a Very Special Guest Appearance by Betty White.  She was wearing purple lipstick, which matched her purple outfit, and she either was, or was playing the role of, a receptionist at a radio station.  The plot of said dream revolved around the fact that neither Betty nor We could discover where the station’s music output was coming from.  Exciting, no?  Zzzzzz….

So We trust YouAll had a Festive Fourth, possibly involving a fifth. (It just occurred to Us that We had absolutely no idea why a fifth is called a fifth.  Turns out, 750 ml is approximately a fifth of a gallon.  Which is every bit as boring as Betty White’s radio station.)

Speaking of boring, We are currently being bored by the concept of being dropped like the proverbial Hot Potato by people for no discernible reason whatsoever. Unless We are somehow committing atrocities while sleepwalking, how exactly do We suddenly become persona au gratin, unworthy of having Our phone calls returned? We don’t get it.  (Even Betty White just paused for station identification.)

In equally boring news, could someone please have the courtesy to inform Us as to why everyone is so resoundingly ignoring Starzina’s Time Of The Month Horoscope: Cancer video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3cqsTuxavM  ?  (Betty White just started playing Lawrence Welk’s Greatest Hit.)

Okay, YouPeople are no fun; here’s Ian Somerhalder’s left testicle.  Or, the HorrorScope:

Avoid the temptation to rush ahead — you need to make sure that you’re getting it all done right today. (What makes you imagine that We will be getting it done at all?)

Details really matter, (As do deheads.)

(Heh.  We kill Us.)

so there’s no excuse for rushing past them in the hope that someone else will deal.  (Any hope that “someone else” will do anything is generally futile.)

(Micro$oft Weird™ is calling the preceding a sentence fragment.  However, We went to Catholic school, so We know that We can reduce it to its simplest subject-predicate parts and demonstrate its inherent sentencehood.  To wit, “hope is futile”.  See?  Perfectly legitimate sentence.  (Also, oddly enough, perfectly accurate description of Catholic school.))

Things are really starting to come together in a relationship (Yes, indeedy-do, they are! Why, the number of unreturned phone calls, texts, and smoke signals must be nearing triple digits. So We’re guessing We didn’t exactly land that paying gig in August, eh?)

— trust is at an all-time high, and this bodes well for building stronger foundations for growth. (Oh, please.  With the growth We’ve got going on here, We need stronger foundation GARMENTS.)

This is just a beginning phase, so be prepared to take things more slowly than you may want to. (How much slower can We get?)

(Apropos of nothing, why do We keep getting emails that want Us to buy a forklift?  Is that a fat joke of some sort?)

Your positive momentum (BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAH!!!)

 will carry over into other areas of your life — including an unpredictable family relationship. (She’s my sister, she’s my daughter, she’s my sister AND my daughter.  (We love the smell of Faye Dunaway in the morning.))

A wave of growing confidence (Not to be confused with nausea.)

will give you a taste for competition, so keep an eye out for a chance to prove yourself.  (What’s that old joke about the hooker with the glass eye?)

Your inner nerd is out in force now, so surround yourself with like-minded people soon. (Nerds are HAWTT!)

You find the brainiest stimulation at a museum tonight, so geek out and look out for others like you.  (So, wait…you’re saying there are other people like Us, but they keep them in a museum?)

 You never know! (NOW you tell Us.  You could have just replaced this entire stupid horoscope with those three words.  “You never know.”   You’re just the fucking Oracle of Delta Phi, ain’t’cha, Kelli?  Stupid asshatted cow.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

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

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 think I’m turning Japanese, I think I’m turning Japanese, I really think so

Greetings, Earthy Roue Intimidates Cheerleaders---

(We have been consistently amazed over the years that Micro$oft Weird™ has never learned the word “roué”. (And, now that We’ve typed it with a small r, We see why; it wants one of those Frawnch gizmos over the e.  (And puts it there automatically, We might add.)  So why doesn’t it do the same thing with capital R “Roue”?  No doubt the same reason it is perfectly capable of correcting Us when We mistype small h “horoscope” as “horosocpe” (which We always do), but throws up its hands when We mistype capital H “Horoscope” as “Horosocpe”. Because Micro$oft Weird™ is a ‘tard.)

(Parenthetically, wouldn’t throwing up your hands hurt your throat?)

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, August 04, 2010 (So Happy Hump Day.  We say that nearly every week, and no one ever says it to Us.  Or, more to the point, gives Us a hump.  Of course, in One of Our advanced years, any hump We get is most likely to manifest itself on Our back, so perhaps We should could Our blessings.  (One…two…okay, done.)  The two of you who actually read this thing will have missed Us yesterday, as We were off getting Our voiceover demo recording done.  Four months later than it should have been, but who’s counting? (We already counted both of Our blessings.  And math is HARD.) Oh, and guess what?  The final product?  Won’t be ready for a month.):

(And now, lest you think We have no appreciation for cultures other than Our Own, here is a little music video all the way from the Japanese part of China.  It would be safe for work, were it not for the plethora of Japanese heinie on display.  And yet, it’s not dirty at all. Enjoy!

)

(Plethora…roué…We are a g0ddamn “Word-A-Day” calendar for YouPeople.  And what the  h3ll do you ever do for Us?)

 (Our Our-O-Scope:)

You just can't wander around unchaperoned like you used to. (Well, that’s really gonna throw a monkey wrench into Our serial killing spree.)

You're so open, (We’re so open, We can break wind without anyone hearing anything.  We’re so open, Jimmy Hoffa just found the keys and drove out.  We’re so open, you’ll hafta tie a two-by-four to your @ssz so you don’t fall in.  (We got a million of ‘em, kidz; shtick around for da jokes.))

you could pass by a couple arguing in a restaurant and end up just cranky enough to ruin your previously romantic evening. (What the fu(k does THAT have to do with the price of Japanese heinie in China?)

(Ya think We could get a jawb fixing up tired old sayings like “the price of tea in China”?  Quick, somebody go to monster.com and search “cunning linguist”.)

Needless to say, you need to steer clear of negative energy.  (Have you met Us? More to the point, have you seen Our life lately?  If it weren’t for negative energy, We’d have no energy at all.)

They want you to commit, but you're just not ready. (No, they want Us to be committed.  Trust Us, there’s a difference.)

They're threatening to leave if you don't. (What?  And miss the eleven o’clock ballad?  “It’s like We’re losing Our minds…”)

Doesn't sound like the perfect beginning, does it? (Well, no.  No, it doesn’t.  Because, generally, people leave at the END, not at the beginning.  @sshat.)

Think it over.  (Okay, it over.  (A sentence without a verb is like a day without moonshine.))

You've got an endless supply of oomph right now (Of all the times to be caught without a tuba. (Caught Without A Tuba is, of course, the title of the unauthorized tell-all biography of Lawrence Welk.))

(That was a sort of family-friendly joke, in its own special way.  Good thing We didn’t fu(k it up by talking about Japanese heinie in China.)

-- and it's a darned good thing. (Back in the olden days, when things were darned, did One ever darn anything besides socks?  And what exactly did a sock have to do to get itself properly damned?)

Expect a seriously tough task to come along. (Oh, We do.)

(Your Euro-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com

cowgrass…just do it.  Betch.)

How are things in Glocca Morra?

Greetings, Emphatic Rebuttal Infuriates Czar---


Here is your horoscope for Thursday, February 18, 2010 (We have finally smartened up and put all the WaitStaff show info in pixture form above, to spare all y’all from having to get n@ked yet again to skim a whole paragraph of information. You’re welcome.):


(This, however, is the important part: after the show, as We are forced to depart the World Café Live immediately (no doubt amidst a hail of rotting fruits and vegetables (“Hey!” We hear you cry, “Some of my best friends are rotting fruits and vegetables!”)), We have decided to reconvene to accept accolades, acolytes (that was an altar boy joke…on your knees, b1tch!), and, most importantly, free drinks two blocks away at Slainte (which see: http://www.slaintephilly.com/ ). This, We are told, is an Irish drinking emporium whose name does not rhyme with “taint”, as One would imagine (although that would, We suppose, make it a g@y drinking emporium). Instead, it sounds, when pronounced by Irishian Irish speakers of Our acquaintance, something like a cross between “lawnchair” and “trenchmouth”. This is because Irishians are a very strange people who don’t even call their language “Irish”; they call it (oh, like you didn’t see this coming) “Gaylick”. But what can One expect from folks who once starved a bunch of potatoes to death for no reason whatsoever?)


(Leprechaun, shillelagh, HassenPfeffer Incorporated.)


(As a special boner…er, bonus treat, those of all y’all who have only started following the WaitStaff since the beginning of Our appearances with same will not yet have seen the following video. Which is totally NOT safe for work. Unless, We suppose, you happen to work in a brothel.)

(We should also note that the WaitStaff’s well-oiled (heh) publicity machine is in high gear, and tickets are flying out the door faster than a starving potato in a leprechaun colony (what???), so get yours NOW. Here We are in today’s City Paper: http://citypaper.net/articles/2010/02/18/desperate-and-dateless (You will note that We Our Own Selves Personally do not appear in the accompanying photo, which is an old WaitStaff publicity photo taken prior to Our affiliation with same. In fact, only two of the people pictured will be in tomorrow’s show; the rest are…well, We’re not exactly sure, but We have heard the phrases “making license plates” and “penile servitude” bandied about.))


(And, in case you needed one more inducement to attend, Our mission du jour is to go shopping for exactly the right pair of boxer shorts in which to do the tango. (Whaddaya mean, the World Café Live just called and said they’re closed tomorrow?))


(Our-O-Scope…)


It's time for you to take some time out. (We hear there’s a special chair for that.)


Phone off the hook. (Okay, let’S just think about that one for a second. (The S is capitalized because it’s a contraction of “let Us”, which involves The Royal Us. But then you knew that already.) Once those chirren born in 1990 whom We were discussing yesterday have chirren, there will be a whole generation of people who have no idea what the fu(k “phone off the hook” even means. Seriously, people. Turn off your eight-track tapes of Lawrence Welk and give that a moment’s thought.)


Sit down. (Sit on my face and tell me that you love me.)


Breathe. (Oh, please. If you have to be told, perhaps it’s better if you just stop. More air for the rest of Us.)


Think about your past year. (Scr3w that noise. Think about this: which is funnier: “Is that a shillelagh in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” or “Is that a leprechaun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” We Personally are leaning toward the leprechaun, but discuss.)


(We’ll take “Phrases No Sane Person Would Ever Type” for $500, Alex…what is “leaning toward the leprechaun”?)


What are you grateful for? (Ingrates.)


(No, give it a minute. It’ll come to you. That was one of Our rare suBtle jokes. THERE ya go!)


If you have time, it's a good time to actually make a list. (If We don’t have time, should We make a list of things We don’t have time for?)


Think about your blessings. (Then think of Debra Messing covered in Thousand Island dressing. (That was a little bone We just threw to Our str8 boi readers, to make up for the “Cindy Brady’s pubes” thing from yesterday.))


(As a little insight into the inner workings of Eric’s Daily Horoscope, We would like to point out that We originally covered Ms. Messing in Russian dressing, but We decided that Thousand Island was funnier.)


Sometimes the mere act of reveling in all that is good actually brings on more good things. (Mmm-hmm. And sometimes, unicorns f@rt cinnamon-scented rainbows.)


If you want to have some peace and quiet now, the skies support you. (The skies, you say? We find Ourselves somewhat nonplussed.)


(Insert reflection on what a peculiar word “nonplussed” is here.)


Feel free not to say yes to every single invitation, if you don't actually feel like it. (Oh, please. If anyone ever actually invited Us anywhere, We don’t have a thing to wear, We just washed Our hair, there’s no time to Nair™, Fred Astaire, Linda Blair, Sonny and Cher.)


(Oh, shut up.)



(YOUR-O-Scopes:


http://www.humorscope.com


cowgrass tastes good like a cigarette should)