Get on the bus, Gus

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherManicottiMonDay, January 6^st, 2013.

Happy Birthday to Drusilla, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in El Lay.

Also, Happy Feast of the Epiphany, the Sucretia, the Mitochondria, and the rest of the MyBus riders from Back In The Day.  This year, We will be celebrating (well, okay, not celebrating, exactly) the tenf anniversary of Our first ride on the MyBus.  Ten years…CuteShortsBoy has presumably grown into CuteShortsMan.

As We are weak with disease, today’s e-pissode will have precious little original content.  To make up for that, here is an acid flashback to Our original e-xplanation of the MyBus, all the way from 2004:

(The EAC: The Evil Acquiring Company purchased Eric’s previous company in Spring, 2004, ending, amongst other things, Eric’s pleasant little ten minute walk to work, and forcing him to ride…



The My Bus: Although Eric is the undisputed Queen of Self-Delusion (and De Nile), even HE is hard pressed to convince himself that the My Bus is actually a private limousine with really uncomfortable seats. Especially when they let Other People get onto it. He will, however, persist in calling it the My Bus, because he once heard that possession is nine tenfs of de law. (See what I mean about that “third person“ thing?)



The Other People: Amongst the notable Other People on the My Bus are:



Sucretia: Absent for quite some time from the My Bus ride, Sucretia is fondly recalled for her frequent stories (told REALLY LOUDLY at 6:45AM) of the various trials and tribulations of raising her multiple babies, dealing with her multiple BabyDaddies, and getting off the pipe. Eric suspects that she is currently in jail, and is not entirely convinced that he didn’t recognize her on ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT as Martha Stewart’s cellmate. Sucretia leaves behind any number of not-quite-as-“colorful” sistahs, aunts, nieces, and cousins, including Epiphany, Chl@mydia, Saliva, Mitochondria, and G0norrhea.



Cute Shorts Boy in the Pumpkin Pie Coat (formerly Cute Shorts Boy): So named because he was a cute boy and, prior to the arrival of nuclear winter, he wore shorts. The shorts themselves may or may not have been cute; that wasn’t the point. Disappeared from the My Bus under mysterious circumstances recently, shortly after the appearance of the Pumpkin Pie (Colored) Coat. Eric suspects that his disappearance was caused by someone leaking Eric’s Daily Horoscope to him.



Other passengers whose names are self-explanatory:



Kevin Bacon’s Younger Brother Cute Doctor Boy

Sixties Radical Angela Davis

Cute Tall Boy Whose Main Attributes Are Being Cute And Tall And Who I Haven’t Thought Up A Better Nickname For Yet



The My Bus ride also occasionally has Special Guest Stars. Why, in recent weeks alone we’ve had Della Reese (wearing boaf of her wigs) and The Late Ray Charles.



Meanwhile, it occurs to me that, as much as I talk about the My Bus ride, I’ve never said anything about My Driver(s), so here they are:



Smiling BlackMan Who Is Happy In His Work: This driver (let’s call him Tyrone) has a pleasant smile and says “Good morning.” He frequently chats with passengers, especially those of the female persuasion. When he is driving, the My Bus comes on time, as he apparently learned the difference between White People’s Time and C0l0red People’s Time. If you had a Miss Daisy, you would let him drive her.



Cranky BlackMan Whose Unemployment Ran Out: There are actually several of these drivers (let’s call them Rastus), but they are completely interchangeable. They never smile or say “Good morning” and generally look like they would rather run over you with the bus than let you on it. When they are driving, the My Bus runs on a schedule that can best be called sporadic, depending upon how far it is to the nearest sto’ where one can purchase bottles of malt liquor in paper bags. If you had a Miss Daisy, you would let her drive herself and pray for the best.



Nasty BlackWoman Wif No Teef Who Don’t Eben Gots A Driver’s License But Da BabyDaddy In Jail And Da Baby Need Milk: As if her name weren’t self-explanatory, this driver (who mercifully only rarely appears…let’s call her Sucretia’s cousin Pneumonia) neither smiles nor says “Good Morning”, and does not even appear to know the My Bus’s schedule or route, but da baby need milk. If you had a Miss Daisy, she would haul this b1tch off to Rastus’s shack and give him a stern talking to until he agreed to make an honest woman of her.)

 

Here at Casa du Curmudgeon, We continue to be sick like Downward Dog and delirious with the fever for the flavor of a Pringles™.  This came upon Us (and when does THAT happen?) after Friday’s e-pisstle and was in full swing by Friday night.  It has forced Us to call in sick to work, and to cancel dinner plans for today to which We have been looking forward for practically damn ever.  Also, it has put Us behind on All Of Those Things We Were Going To Accomplish After The Holidays.

We can tell that this is the flu, and not just a common cold because, in addition to all of the oh-so-attractive physical symptoms, it is accompanied by that state of depression and feeling of general worthlessness that only comes with a good flu.  We would expound upon that, but the sound of typing is getting on Our nerves.

Our video (Capricorn, for you naked skimmers who aren’t paying attention) is above, and here is the link with which you may share it with your friends:  http://youtu.be/m3Aa_X_HoVM.

On repeat viewing, We must say that that particular video is one of Our favorites.  It has, over time, been somewhat e-clipsed by the artsy-fartsiness of Our French New Wave e-pissode:

…as well as by, naturally, The One With Justin Bieber’s Penis:

Having thus shamelessly plugged Ourself (because if We don’t plug Ourself, clearly no one else is going to), We shall move on.

In other other news, We have been seriously remiss in reporting on the activities Our ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulist) friend, colleague, and fantasy three-legged race partner, AstroGeek. (External factors such as his move to a new blogging platform and the demise of Google Reader have certainly contributed to this remissness, but still…)  Here is his latest e-pisstle, which is all the evidence you need to begin clamoring for him to replace Kelli The AssHatt.  GO! http://sett.com/astrogeek895/new-moon-on-new-years-in-cap-oh-yeah-we-bad-aka-fuck-you-2013

In other news, 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 in Centre Theatre’s Independent Voices Festival!

Tickets are now available at  http://thecentretheater.ticketleap.com/

Also, check out the SitOnOurFaceBook event (https://www.facebook.com/events/259746334150716/ (FYI That is NOT Our mouth in the logo)).

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.)

And now, the HorrorScope…

Oh, We can’t even.

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.

                                                                                                                                     

Dick your balls with Buddy Holly

Hello, Ducks!

             

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for SunDayFunDay, December 1^th , 2013.

What in the name of bleeding Jeebus, you may be wondering (if you are anything like Us (We tend to wonder rather melodramatically (you are, of course, surprised (oh, shut up))), are We doing in here, slaving and toiling and e-pisstling on a Sunday, neither in the park nor with George (We are also a musical theatre queen.  (Please at least feign shock. (Thank you.)))?

Well, in addition to being the Nipples-To-The-Wind-And-Titz-Akimbo birthday Cher-ed by Bette Midler and Charlene Tilton, as well as World AIDS Day (always festive), today is the first day of Our second annual participation in Holidailies, about which more later.

But first, some birthday wishes.  We shall skip the geographic references today, in the interests of brevity, which, They say, is the hole of shit.  (Who are “They”, why do “They” say such stupid things, and why does anyone continue to listen to “Them”?)

Happy Birthday to Dan, who turns twenty-four today.  In York.  Not NEW York, mind you.  And not the one in Jolly Olde Britland, neither.   Which would, presumably, be Old York.  What’s in between Old York and New York?  Day Old York.  DAY Old, Day-ay-ay Old…with a York-York here, and a York-York there, here a York, there a York…

(We have four other people to wish Happy Birthday to…this may take a while.)

(One wonders, at this juncture, which York the Peppermint Patties™ come from?  Because, mmmm….Peppermint Patties™.)

Moving on…Happy Birthday also to Louie, who also turns twenty-four today.  Mercifully not anywhere that will cause Us to sing Day-O for no apparent reason.  Also Happy Birthday also to Chris, who also turns twenty-four today also. Also too, Happy Birthday also to Richard, who also turns twenty-four today also too. Also too, Happy Birthday also in addition to Joe, who also turns twenty-four today also too. In addition.

(We used some copy-paste to create that last paragraph.  (And the ones before it.  Hence the geography, where We claimed there would be nuns.) We sure hope it was seamless, and transparent to Our Gentle Readers.)

In other news, Happy Belated Birthday to Tom, and Connie, and Joanne, and Theresa, and Jason, and David, each of whom also turned twenty-four over the past few days, while We were over Joan Rivers and through James Woods.

Meanwhile, may We please tell you (mais oui) that Bryan still has no idea that all last week was Picturing Bryan’s Birthday Suit Week?  Whatever has happened to these children’s social media addictions?

Speaking of all last week, We moved into Sagittarius during it, which means that We are once again sharing with you Our very most favoritest Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope  video with you (see above).  Here is the link with which you may share it with others: http://youtu.be/6f1m5GLfk1Y  You’re welcome.

And now: Holidailies:

Well, ladies and genitals, boyzzz and gurrrlllzzz, We have joined up with something called Holidailies, (which see:  http://www.holidailies.org/ ), wherein We pledge Our solemn troth (doesn’t that sound painful?) to publish an e-pissode of Our blog every day of December.  And, while We are certainly sure that We shall falter in Our resolve some weekend later in the month, We certainly didn’t intend to fuck up directly out of the starting gate, as it (subjunctively) were, and bring The Holidaily Police to Our door with a warrant. (Ordinarily, a phrase like “The Holidaily Police” would have spawned a joke about The Tyne Daly Police, and (naturally) a Cagney and Lacey  reference, but today, We intend to press on.  Like Lee™ Press-On Nails.)

So, to continue.  We would wish you Happy World AIDS Day, but “Happy World AIDS Day” isn’t exactly something polite people would say.  And We are NOTHING if not polite fucking people.  Also, you will notice that there is all kinds of art up above on what is supposed to be A Day Without Art.  Our justification for that is that the hordes of new Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! readers who come from Holidailies would have no idea that there is usually art up there if there (subjunctively) weren’t any, so to them, it wouldn’t be A Day Without Art it would just be A Day, and that’s just stupid.

And here’s the HorrorScope:

You’re slowing down today — but that’s a good thing!  (Now, see, that there sentence right there really just cries out for a long, drawn-out joke about Martha Stewart on Petticoat Junction. Unfortunately, We don’t have a shot of Geritol™ to put in Our prune juice, so “long drawn-out” is somewhat beyond Our scope at the current juncture.)

(May We just mention hat Little Ricky (Keith Thibodeaux) from I Love Lucy turns sixty-three today?  You’re welcome.)

Make sure that you’re taking your time with whatever is coming your way,  (Never mind that…We’re trying to figger out how to take other people’s time.)

as getting it right is far more important than getting it done fast.  (That would seem to totally and completely depend upon exactly what “it” is.  Just sayin’.)

You need to strike while the iron is hot!  (Because a sticky thyme saves wine.  (That’s another one of those things that “They” say.  Who keeps letting “Them” talk?))

You have a golden opportunity right in front of you, (And you know what that means:  Golden Opportunity’s Knockers!)

but it’s going to head for the hills (You mean “them thar hills”, yes?)

unless you take advantage of it. (Yes, but no means no, yes?)

(Did that last sentence make anyone else dizzy?)

Why worry about the consequences (Because We can’t handle the truth?)

when there is no possible way of knowing for sure what they will be? (Or that.)

Wherever your sense of adventure went, you have got to get it back right away!  (Are We going to have to go on an adventure to get back Our sense of adventure?  Because, if so, We may have to go lie down first.)

Putting so much effort into minimizing your risk doesn’t always pay off, so just relax and let the chips fall where they may.  (Wait…there are chips?  Mmmmm….chips.  (Is there dip?))

Today is a learning opportunity. (How big are its knockers?)

 If you feel uncomfortable, ask yourself why (Why?)

(Oh, were We supposed to answer Ourself, too?  Jeebus…stick a broom up Our ass and We’ll sweep the floor while We’re at it.)

 and move on from there. (We will be doing nothing BUT moving on today.  After We finish e-pisstling Dixie here, We shall be erecting (ahem) Our Christmas tree.  Anybody wanna come over and help Us hang Our balls?)

If you need to be alone to mull it over, do so. (Speaking of Martin Mull, We recently re-watched Clue. Which, if you haven’t seen it in as long as We hadn’t seen it, you should look into re-seeing it, or see about seeing it for the first time, if you’ve never seen it (or have a seeing-eye dog, in which case you haven’t seen much of anything).)

Look into your heart and be honest with yourself. (Fuck that noise.  Look into Uranus and lie like a Persian rug.)

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.