Showing posts with label Loni Anderson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loni Anderson. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

You can even marry Harry, but mess around with Ike






Hello, Ducks!




Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay, May 14st  , 2014.



Happy Birthday to Richard, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in the suburbs of The City That Loves You (On Your) Back. 



Also, Happy Decimo Cuarto de Mayo to everybody else.



Speaking of what day it is, over at The WaitStaff’s SitOnMyFaceBook page (https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-WaitStaff/177605379471 ), where We post a funny Pixture Of The Day every day, We had a funny picture that was fart-related (as so many funny pictures are (which is actually sort of counter-intuitive, as you really can’t take a picture of a fart)).  So naturally, We posted Our picture and wished everyone a Happy National Fart Joke Day.  No one has called Us on it so far, but We Googled all over Wikipedia, and, as it turns out, there is no such thing as National Fart Joke Day.



Until now.



So Happy Decimo Cuarto de Farto de Mayo.




(How many of YouPeople knew that “farto” was Spanish for “fart”?)



In other news, it is a shame We don’t have so many social engagements this week, because Our disposition has been markedly improved by the fact that there is an ice cream cake in Our freezer, and We can have ice cream cake whenever We want. (Did We mention that the birthday cake that Our LovelyAndTalented friend brought Us on Sunday was an ice cream cake?  (The birthday cake that Our LovelyAndTalented friend brought Us on Sunday was an ice cream cake.))



It has a chocolate layer that melts faster than the vanilla layer, little-confetti-esque sprinkles, and radioactive blue icing that cures cancer. (Not that We had cancer, mind you.  (Except for cancer of Our disposition.  But that’s all better now.))



Speaking of birthdays, We are awaiting with bated breath (because We are nothing if not a master breath-bater) the arrival of Our birthday gift of tickets to see Hedwig and the Angry Inch starring Neil Patrick Harris and Loni Anderson…



(We are just going to keep right on saying that until that show closes, thereby demonstrating the utter futility of Creative ViZZZualization.  (Although apparently We have viZZZualized well enough that one poor deluded Gentle Reader actually imagines that We already HAVE said tickets.))




(How many of you are now picturing Loni Anderson as Yitzhak?  (We’ll wait.))




This just in from the WorldWideInterWebNetz:



Sometimes I feel useless but then I remember I breathe out carbon dioxide for plants.





In other news, We suddenly find Ourselves (not that We were looking for Us, but it’s a figger of speech) in the sign of Taurus, Our video for which is above, and here is the link with which you may share it with your friends:



Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone in a tree, here is Our previous Taurus video, which is somewhat of a fillum noir, if you will. (Or even if you won’t…since when is it all about you?):





And here’s the HorrorScope:



In celebrity birthday news, another of Our future ex-husbands, Gabriel Mann, was born today.




You’re moving more slowly today, which could make life pretty tough for those you work with closely.  (Is it just Us, or is Bitchly McBitcherson totally on a kick of constantly telling Us how slowly We’re moving?  You would think My ass was Miss January…)



(Please note that, despite having to abandon The Royal We AND violate the subjunctive, We brought you that joke anyway, because it was worth it.  Kiss Us quick, We’re Mrs. Malaprop. (Or should that be, “Kissus quick, We’re Missus Malaprop”?))




(Oh, shut up.)




That’s not the end of the world, though (As you know it?)



(Or should We say, as you DON’T know it?)



(“It’s not the end of the world as you don’t know it” really doesn’t scan, duzzit?)



— you may spot something important.  (Look, a leopard!)




(Heh….see what We did there?)




 Someone close to you may try to manipulate you, but that doesn’t mean they’ll get away with it — or that you’ll even let them get close. (They were already “close” at the beginning of this sentence…do you even listen to yourself when you talk?  AssHatt.)





 Once they start their pitch, in fact, your best bet may be to excuse yourself  (Why?  Did We fart?)




(You thought We’d forgotten it was National Fart Joke Day, didn’t you?)




— just after you announce that you’re wise to their game. (In Our 1940s-movie-comedy-voice, naturally. (“Yeah, kid, We’re wise to yer game, seeeee?”))




That is, of course, provided you don’t lose it when you hear the whine in their voice. (Well, it IS WhinesDay, after all.)




Try to remain calm. (Keep calm, and blow Prince Harry.)




(Whaddaya mean, “that’s not how the saying goes”?  Well, it certainly should be.)




Saying no before they finish is enough to let you know you’ve won, (NO.)




isn’t it?  (Heh…SWWDT?)




There’s a lot more going on in your love life than you can see on the surface — and not everyone is laying all their cards on the table, including you. (If it’s OUR love life, nobody’s laying anything anywhere.)




Don’t make any moves until things play out more. (“No sudden moves, seeeee?”)





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!)

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

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.


                                                                                                                                     

Monday, August 5, 2013

If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it





Hello, Ducks!






Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  JustAnotherMagicMikeMonday, August 5st , 2013.  Because any day that starts off with male strippers can’t possibly be all bad.  You’re welcome.




First and Formosa, welcome back to Connie, who has been on an Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!  hiatus.  It is unclear to Us how, having once received these e-pisstles, one could subsequently voluntarily forego them, but whatevs.  She is back, from outer space, she just walked in to find Us here with that sad look upon Our face, she could have changed the stupid lock, she could have made Us leave Our key, if she had known for just one second We’d be back to bother she…




Sorry.  We forgot Ourself.  Once again behaving in a manner We had sworn to eschew (gesundheit (thank you)).






Seconal, what has Connie missed, We hear you all asking.  Well, as We don’t exactly recall the length of her hiatus (and as that’s not a question One can just blurt out in polite company…”How long is your hiatus?”  Miss Manners would rap One’s knuckles with her shrimp fork.), We cannot say that We rightly know.  Any number of Time of the Month Horoscope  videos, no doubt, and, of course, Our most important project of late, the Kickstarter fundraiser for Our upcoming Fringe Festival show, LOOKING FOR URANUS:  Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour ,   which can be found here:   





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.)



Thirdly and lastly, but certainly not leastly, (and not Lee Strasberg at all), Happy Birthday to Corey, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in Greater Bostonia.  Also, Happy Birthday to Michael, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.



Fourthfully (which is either fourthly, or “forcefully” with a lithp), We have lied about the “lastly” bit.



Fifthfully (which is obviously fifthly, as there would be no earthly reason for “fitfully” to have a lithp in it), Happy Belated Birthday to Andrew, and Gloria, and Randino, and OurAmericanCousin Monica, each of whom turned twenty-four this past weekend.



And now, for realzies this time, last but not Lee Strasberg (I case you didn’t get that joke the first time), congratulations to Kevin and Tyson, who We just learned have gotten engaged.



And here is the HorrorScope:




Happy Slow Day In Celebrity Birthdays to Maureen McCormick of The Brady Bunch and Loni Anderson of WKRP In Cincinnati.




It’s a great day to get started on something new  (Oh, goody!  Perhaps We shall roll a fresh crisp new piece of typing paper into Our trusty old Smith-Corona typewriter and type “Lights up” to begin Our Fringe show script.)




(Extra credit points to anyone who is actually picturing that right now.)




— even if you’re not completely sure of yourself. (What if We’re not completely sure whether or not We’re not completely sure of Ourself?  Then what?  Huh?)




Try harder to rope others into your arrangements and find new ways to collaborate.  (We are guessing that, if We actually get some poor schnook tied up with rope, “collaborate” becomes a euphemism.)





Your opinions are valid, but you had better not expect everyone to agree with them right now!  (Especially the invalids.)




(Heh.  See what We did there?)




So give up (Why didn’t you just say that right in the beginning?)




trying to change anyone’s minds before you even get started, today — everyone is feeling like sticking to their guns instead of opening their minds. (Oh, good.  A bunch of closed-minded people shooting each other.  Welcome to ‘Murrica.)




(It is clearly “last-minute bulletin/this-just-in” day here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!, where it has just come to Our attention that it is National Underwear Day.  We’re not quite sure what to do with that information, as We are not currently wearing any underwear.)




(Extra credit if you are now picturing Us banging away on Our trusty Smith-Corona typewriter with no underwear on.)




(Sorry.)



(We’ll pause here, while you mental floss.)




Instead, you will make better use of your time if you channel your emotions into a creative pursuit like cooking, singing, or even shopping!   (Does any sane person actually qualify shopping as a “creative pursuit”?)




Avoid banging your head against a wall with a bunch of folks who just don’t get it.  (We are an unemployed editor/proofreader, and AssHat Kelli just got paid to write a sentence that implies that We should only bang Our head against the wall with folks who “get it”.  Welcome to ‘Murrica, Part Deux.)




Try not to unload emotional energy on anyone new in your life.  (Would that be like that “collaborate” business from earlier?)




What you’re feeling doesn’t really have much to do with them. (We don’t seem to recall ever figgering out who this person is that We’ve got all tied up with rope…)




Find another outlet — chat up a friend or give your place a rigorous and symbolic cleaning.  (Symbolic cleaning is Our favorite kind.  Our symbols wind up the cleanest when We dance to Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Feather-Duster Fairies”.)




(If you’re picturing THAT, Our humblest apologies.)




(And We’re outtie…)





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://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.