This girl is on fire

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  ThankFridayIt’sGod, February 8, 2013.  Well, it is An Historic Day here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! (If you had (subjunctively) heard Us say that out loud, you’d’ve been shocked…SHOCKED, We tell you…at how much We sounded exactly like Maggie Smith.)  Our review of Les Miserables  yesterday got Our highest-ever single-day hit count of actual readers.  Now, mind you, the day with the picture of the naked fat man with the ginormous belly, and the day with the picture of Prince William in a Speedo™, and the day with the picture of Justin Bieber in the leather harness, and the day with the picture of Charlene Tilton all still have much higher hit counts, but they were accrued over time, and are not, We suspect, representative of perusal by Gentle Readers.  So yay, Us!

What this would seem to indicate is that YouPeople prefer when We have an actual topic.  To which We say, fat chance, and good luck with that.  Or maybe you just enjoy it when We have a miserable (heh) artistic experience.  But what the hell makes you think it’s all about YOU?

At any rate, We didn’t expect to be mentioning Les Miz again so soon, but We were minding Our Own business last night, watching Glee as One does, when suddenly and without warning two of the characters burst into a Les Miz song.  What the hell We had ever done to THEM, We haven’t got any idea.  To the credit of the Glee production staff, however, at no point were We forced to observe a single nose hair belonging to either Chris Colfer or Lea Michelle.

Immediately following this trauma, they cut to a commercial in which M&Ms sang a Meat Loaf song.

Then We went to bed and had a dream about light bulbs.

We can see you all rushing to send the URL for this e-pissode to hundreds of your closest friends this very minute.

Speaking of Glee, that is one of the few avenues via which We find out anything that is happening in the world of pop music.  We are old.  We don’t know much, ‘cause We don’t get out much.  We rarely listen to the radio, and, when we do, it is to an alternative station.  Why, just last week when Beyoncé sang at The Football Pageant, you could have knocked Us over with a feather when someone told Us that McDonna is still alive.

So, later in the Glee episode, here comes Miss Naya Rivera, singing some pop tune We are certain We’ve heard before…but where?  We Googled the title phrase on Wikipedia…it is an Alicia Keys tune.  We are vaguely familiar with her oeuvre…We know “Fallin’”, for instance, because they used it to shill CBS’s daytime soap line-up back in the day.  But this tune…We cannot quite pinpoint what commercial We might have heard it on.  (The M&Ms, after all, were singing Meat Loaf.  From twenty years ago.)

The song?  “Girl On Fire”. We are truly, truly NOT the brightest bulb in the marquee.  The  reason We know it?

Meanwhile, as if this e-pissode were (subjunctively) not already jam-packed, fun-filled, and fudge-packed (ooops) enough, you may recall that, almost exactly one year ago today, We trundled off to Greater Bostonia to witness history being made, Our friends produced their very own television show.  Well, here, a year later, as Greater Bostonia prepares to find Nemo dumped all over they asses, it is, for your viewing pleasure.  (Don’t say We never gave ya nothin’.):

Speaking of things that are on fire on the bottom, We shall be playing The VD Match Game on Friday and Saturday, February 15 and 16, at 7:30 at L’Etage.  You can obtain tickets here http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/331562 and find more info here
http://www.facebook.com/events/279672565493605/  Our Sistah Ovella, for those of you who know her, will be playing also.

Here is a little Aquarius fillum, for Our birthday Aquarians:

And here are the HorrorScopes:

On top of everything else, it is Mary Steenburgen’s birthday.  Our cup runneth over.

You have to take advantage of this big opportunity!  (What, there’s a sale at Lane Bryant?)

If you don’t see it, then start looking (This assumes (thereby making an ass of Uma Thurman) that We didn’t see “it” (whatever “it” is) because We didn’t look.  Also, you are an AssHat.)

— by the end of the day, (You’re another day older (Stop it, STOP It, STOP IT!!!!!))

you should have stumbled across a great chance to advance your interests.  (What if We’re not interested?)

Without even realizing it, (Realizing what?)

(Heh.  SWWDT?)

you have quickly ascended to the top of a powerful person’s list. (Because We were naughty, or because We were nice?)

Just by doing the right thing in the right way, you are succeeding!  (Wouldn’t that be the exact definition of succeeding?  (Unless, of course, One was TRYING to do the wrong thing in the wrong way, in which case, by doing the right thing in the right way, One would not have succeeded.  (If One does the wrong thing in the right way, does it become the right thing? (It’s like a Chinese phone book up in this place…what do two Wongs make?))))

If you are looking to accelerate in your career, (Wait…We have a career?)

this could be the beginning of a very active phase.  (Oh…We’re yeast.)

It’s not yet clear how things are going to change for you, but the changes are coming soon — so get ready. (How is it supposed to be clear how to get ready if it’s not clear how things are changing?)

Your reputation is your top concern, (All together now:  This. Boy. Is A Bottom (Bottom (Bottom…)))

so it’s a wonderful thing (Also, It’s A Wonderful Life.)

that you’re only going to shine right now.  (A little pressed powder will sort that right out.)

 (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.

                                                                                                                                    

I’m bringing sexy back

Greetings, Executive Reorder Inexplicably Countermanded---


(Those wacky, zany, madcap Chinamen and their “shave-the-red-headed-white-baby” fetish. Heh-heh-heh.)


Here is your horoscope for Monday, March 08, 2010 (We know what you’re thinking. (Oh, yes, We do. We are practically psychic, and We have Our finger on the pulse. (And no, your tighty-whiteys that say “Monday” on them are not deterring Us. Our pulse-seeking finger is intrepid.)) You are thinking, “How does One continue to live in a world in which Sandra Bullock has an Oscar™?” Naturally, We would not bring up your dilemma if We did not have the answer. (We would like to think We are capable of pretending to be kinder than that. At least in public.) And the answer is, you have already been living in a world in which Oscars™ are possessed by Goldie Hawn, Kim Basinger, and Cher. So, although at first you were afraid, you were petrified, We suspect you will survive.):


(We Our Own Selves Personally did not watch the G@y Super Bowl. We were busy cinematically experiencing an indie film called The Open Road, starring Mister Justin Timberlake. (It also starred Mister Jeff Bridges, so, see, topical.) There are spoilers ahead, boyzzz and gurrlllzzz, so, if you’re planning a Justin Timberlake film festival any time soon, you may want to skip to the next paragraph. First off, a synopsis (like your scr0tum, here it is in a nutshell): Minor League Baseball Player Mister Timberlake needs to collect his estranged alcoholic ex-baseball player father, Mister Bridges, from somewhere across the country and bring him to see his ex-wife, Mister Timberlake’s mother, Miss Mary Steenburgen aka Mrs. Ted Danson, who is dying of Old Movie Disease. (She is not Mrs. Ted Danson in the fillum, she is Mrs. Ted Danson in real life. Which is only important to this story in that she apparently had it in her contract that, if she put on Old Movie Disease makeup for these people, they would give her husband a role. So Mister Danson plays Mister Timberlake’s coach in one scene, thereby depriving some actor who really needed the paycheck of work.) There is also some random young actress thrown into the mix to play Mister Timberlake’s girlfriend and thereby demonstrate that Mister Timberlake’s character is Not G@y, but she’s not important because they never have a s3x scene and who the h3ll makes a Justin Timberlake fillum and doesn’t make him take his clothes off? You can tell you’re watching a really cheap indie fillum because there’s only about enough script for A Very Special Episode Of Blossom, so they fill out their ninety minutes with a lot of shots of Mister Timberlake’s red Hummer (no, really) hurtling down various American highways. Said shots being cheap because there are no actors in them.)


(If you cannot predict each and every scene of this cinematic epic, especially the denouement, you have apparently never watched an American movie. Or a General Foods International Coffee™ commercial. Since We were blissfully unhampered by having to pay any attention to the “plot” or the dialogue, We were able to focus on a whole bunch of more interesting things (We are pretty sure We saw a scene where grass grew.) First off, We should mention Mister Harry Dean Stanton. Now, We realize that many of you will not recognize his name, but trust Us, you would Know Him If You Saw Him, as he has been in every fillum made since 1929, with the possible exception of The Women. (That there was a little cinematic joke for Our fellow cinephiles. The Women, you see, didn’t have any men in it.) In this particular instance, Mister Stanton played Miss Steenburgen’s father, but that’s not the point. The point is, We looked him up, and he’s eighty-three years old, BlessHisHeart. Ya know how they say that, as you get older, everything shrinks except the cartilage in your ears and nose, which continues to grow? Well, judging by the size of Mister Stanton’s ears, he’s getting ready for the remake of Dumbo. We’re just sayin’.)


(Also in the fillum in a minor role was Mister Lyle Lovett, who, as far as acting goes, is a pretty good country singer. He is also ten of the least attractive men you will ever see, although We have a special place in Our heart for him, as he was once married to Miss Julia Roberts (yet another Oscar™ winner), and it gives Us great pleasure to think of him banging her like an old screen door.)


(Speaking of Mister Lovett (and, parenthetically (hence the parentheses), throughout all of Sweeney Todd, they never seem to do that), it is during the scene that he shares with Mister Timberlake that the latter’s lack of histrionic powers becomes painfully evident. (We were already presuming Mister Lovett’s lack of histrionic powers, but then, nobody was making him the star of a movie.) Seems Mister Bridges et. al. were carrying Mister Timberlake during most of their scenes. Who knew? Especially since the major emoting required of Mister Timberlake was to brood in a romantically appealing fashion. Now, clearly Mister Timberlake keeps hisself in fine physical shape; even in the Costumes-by-WalMart that were on display here, his fine physique was evident. And We know from other sources that he has more body art than the Rosetta Stone has hieroglyphics (although why they weren’t showing them here is a mystery to Us). Presumably, he cannot help his unfortunate hair, but, at any rate, he has almost all the prerequisite attributes of a first-class romantically-appealing brooder. So why, oh, why didn’t someone send him to a speech teacher so he could stop sounding like Liberace’s hairdresser?)


(Whew! That’s a lotta stuff about fillum! Good thing the Oscars™ only happen once a year! (So did Mister Bridges thank Mister Timberlake in his acceptance speech, or what?))


(Our-O-Scope…)


Anyone who happens to get in your way right now will be bulldozed, trampled and otherwise made to believe that they are not an obstacle worthy of you. (What’s that? An actual insight? Who are you, and what have you done with Kelli?)


Great. (Ah, the old “one-word sentence” trick. Two can play at that game. Aardvark. Rutabaga. Indubitably. See? Simple. @sshat.)


Now help them up and apologize. (We are so very, very sorry that you were stupid enough to try to get in Our way. Howzat?)


Chances are, (Johnny Mathis is a f@g?)


they really weren't out to trip you up deliberately. (A likely story. Of a lovely lady. Who was bringing up three very lovely girls. All of them had hair of gold. From a bottle…)


(Sorry.)


Restraining yourself may be tough, (You think that’s tough, try getting a restraining order against yourself. It’ll say something like “you have to stay five hundred feet away from yourself at all times”, and then won’t you just be in a pickle?)


but it will definitely be easier than the apologies you'll need to make if you let it fly. (We went the whole way back through this horoscope, and that “it” has no antecedent. Grammar Police, lady; you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be pointed at and mocked for the illiterate gibberish of a retard that it is.)


Hold your breath, if need be. (Can’t We hold other people’s breath instead? We like when they turn blue.)


(YOUR-O-Scopes:


http://www.humorscope.com


wow…atsa spicy cow-a-grass)