It’s turkey lurkey time

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for GoodPieRupeeTuesday,  October Fourteenst, 2014.

It is e.e. cummings’s  birthday.  He would be a hundred and twenty years old today.  If he weren’t (subjunctively), ya know, DEAD.    In his honor, We were going to write today’s e-ntire e-pisstle in lower case, but We tried that out for a bit, and it rendered Us incomprehensible.  Well, more incomprehensible than usual.  Also, it e-liminated The Royal We, and that Would Never Do.  We were Not Amused.

Happy Birthday to TheSteveP, who turns twenty-four today.  In Hoboken.  Which is TheNextBestThing to New York.  New York, New York…The City That Doesn’t Sleep (With Us).  Hoboken…Hobo Ken…Ho Boken…so many jokes, so little time.

TheSteveP’s picture is above.

Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Catherine, with whom We got to play on Friday night, and Ken, and Ross, and Brendan, and Thom, and Jana, and Liz, and Jesse, and Ellie, and OurAmericanCousin Sarah, each of whom turned twenty-four over the past few days.

(Speaking of planets, Uranus.  (No, not really…We just said that because Jesse and Ken were in the preceding story.  (Which made Us think, naturally, of Uranus. (But speaking of planets, We just heard though the WorldWideInterWebNetz grapevine that Pluto may be a planet again.  (The jury is still out on Goofy.)))))

In other news, We found a twenty dollar bill outside the CVS this weekend, and that wasn’t even the best thing that happened to Us.  Nor was it second-best, or third-best.  In fact, it may not have even cracked the top ten.

In other other news, in case you were wondering where We were yesterday, it was both Columbus Day AND Canadian Thanksgiving, so We took the day off.

It has always been Our intention to one year have a lovely Canadian Thanksgiving Day dinner at OurHouseWhereWeLive for a few close friends.  We’ve never quite managed to do that,   for several reasons, as near as We can tell.  Number One, Canadian Thanksgiving is a Monday, and who throws dinner parties on Mondays?  And (B.), Canadian Thanksgiving happens so early in the Fall that We are still in denial about summer being over, so shove that pumpkin up your turkey’s ass and smoke it.

No, seriously…that is totally going to be an expression now: shove that pumpkin up your turkey’s ass and smoke it.

(We were actually, for those who enjoy veracity and verisimilitude, verily We say unto thee, we were learning that, if We were (subjunctively) a piece of silverware with which soup is eaten, We would be a better little one than big one.)

And, as if all of this Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!  high-larity were not  e-nough, this will totally make your day (it is completely Safe For Work): 

http://jamesbiliusjean.tumblr.com/post/99961130901/bvckyneedshugs-tumblr-and-puns

Speaking of absolutely nothing that We’ve spoken of so far, here are thirteen sets of twin male models who are totally not safe for work.  You’re welcome: 

http://www.buzzfeed.com/mattbellassai/double-the-fun?bftw&utm_term=4ldqpfp#7alark

Meanwhile, Our Libra video is above, and here is the link with which you may share it with both of your friends:  http://youtu.be/I-sVEr84fyk?list=UUtq4ffsQ_xGu4T5NSA2HfaQ

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And heeeeerrrre’s the HorrorScope:

In celebrity birthdays, in addition to e.e. cummings, it is also the birthday of Max Thieriot, who, We just discovered, is yet another of Our future ex-husbands.

And now, as one DOES throw dinner parties on TUESDAYS, here, in lieu of call-and-response with AssHatted Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) Kelli is A Reading From Madame Olivia:

Greetings Starzina ~

A warm welcome back to Madame Olivia.

Madame Olivia has become reacquainted with a great Japanese word which is to be applied when one is faced with a daunting task, namely, Ganbaru! It means something like "Never give up!" but is fiercer and more satisfying to say. You can say it to others or to yourself. Try shouting it. Ganbaru!

Let the Devil take the hindmost! Madame Olivia can not shake this saying out of her head. For her it's right up there with Throw caution to the winds, and the fact that both are swarming in her brain can mean only one thing: this is a good time for you, little Aries, to make a decision that feels right even though it might look a little shaky on paper. Go for it.

Virtue of the hour: kindness

Alas, it is time to take our leave but Madame Olivia looks forward to your next visit and sends you warmest wishes.

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!)

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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.

                                                                                                                                     

These are probably the worst pies in London

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherManInTheAtticMonday, June 30^st , 2014.

Happy Birthday to Lesley, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.

Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Avram and to Jeff and to LaVonne, each of whom turned twenty-four this past weekend.

Faithful Gentle Readers will recall Our recent central air conditioning fiasco.  Well, in Our latest OurHouseWhereWeLive Hates Us news, having baked a pecan pie, in addition to preparing an entire birthday dinner for Our friend on Wednesday (insert “BirthDoh Dinner” joke here), Our oven has now apparently decided to stop ovening.  Oh, Our broiler still broils, and Our stovetop still stovetops (mmmm….stuffing), but the buns in Our oven are cold.

Now, it will amuse you to know that, in the course of Our WorldWideInterWebNetzian research to identify an appropriate Oven Repair Person, We ran across all manner of Do-It-Yourself advice which insisted that it was simplicity itself to obtain a new heating coil (the obvious culprit in Our oven’s ovenlessness) and replace same One’s Very Own Self.  We even stuck Our head in the oven (which is unfortunately electric, so that didn’t even BEGIN to work out) and ascertained that, the whole thing being apparently constructed out of three Tinkertoys™ and a pipe cleaner, it was probably indeed D-I-Y simple.

Unless, of course, your own personal “Yourself” who is expected to Do-It is OURSELF.

Because, you see, every D-I-Y instruction began with “unplug the oven”.  And Our oven ain’t no little E-Z Bake™ affair…this is one big-ass oven.  The plug to which is, no doubt, (ahem) in the rear.  So the likelihood of Our fragile flower of a Self being able to coerce said oven away from the wall so We could get at its plug (does this sound dirty to you?  Because it sounds dirty to Us, and We even have some slight idea as to what the hell We’re talking about) is practically nil.

We could, of course, shut down the electricity to the entire kitchen, but, this being OUR life, you just KNOW that electricity would never go back on.

(Meanwhile, in the course of typing the above, We mistyped “at its plug” as “a tits plug”, which is actually funnier than the entire story.  So We thought We’d Cher.  You’re welcome.)

In related news, We just fixed something else that had gone wrong in OurHouseWhereWeLIve with about a half a roll of duct tape.  We would tell you what it was, but then We would have to kill you.

In other news, We find Ourselves (not that We were looking for Us, but it’s a figger of speech) in the sign of Cancer, Our video for which is above …and here is the link with which you may share it with your friends: http://youtu.be/e-EpBAfem_M  ))).

 

Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone in a tree, here is Our previous Cancer video, which is the second  Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope video We ever made.  Just look how far We’ve come! (Ooops…did that get in your eye?):

And here’s the HorrorScope:

In celebrity birthday news,  it is Our future ex-husband, Olympic swimmer Michael “Single-Penisedly Bringing The Speedo™ Back” Phelps’s birthday today.  Good MORNING, Mister Phelps!

Also, TheLovelyAndTalented Willam Belli showed up for the first time on Our celebrity birthday website, which see: http://www.famousbirthdays.com/june30.html  He finds hisself in between Florence Ballard, of Supremes fame, and Rick Gonzalez, of We’re-not-exactly-sure-what fame.  Happy 24^th, Willam!

• Aries After three exhausting weeks, you'll be embarrassed and infuriated to learn that the Marine Corps motto is not in fact "Semper Fellatio."
• Taurus God will sincerely apologize to the rest of the hemisphere this week, but explains the snowstorms were the only way to prevent you from wearing those awful sandals.
• Gemini You'll finally start to get calls about that invisible hovercraft you have for sale when the CIA declassifies thousands of previously classified ads.
• Cancer Traveling the world for five years certainly taught you things you'd never have learned otherwise, but you wish someone had told you the hot dog was on a string tied to a stick on your hat.
• Leo Birthday parties have been ruined in some strange ways over the years, but no one will ever top the sick shit you're going to pull next Thursday.
• Virgo You're not the kind of person who likes to ask for help, but for Christ's sake, that's an overturned city bus you're trapped under.
• Libra Seriously, almost everyone these days knows that the whale is a mammal and not a fish, and therefore those guys aren't sleeping with you for your brains.
• Scorpio People born under your sign are tough but fair, gruff but lovable, and faithful to a fault, but the stars refuse to take responsibility for you huffing all that paint thinner.
• Sagittarius You’re certainly the kind of person no one likes to fuck with. Or make out with, hold hands with, or even hug, for that matter.
• Capricorn To his credit, the coroner will apologize to your family, but they'll be forced to admit that "Rectum? Damn thing killed him!" was appropriate considering the circumstances.
• Aquarius Love will be everywhere this week, leaving you nowhere to hide when it gets violent and ugly the way it always does.
• Pisces You're getting better at figuring out what your dreams really mean. However, all that stuff that happens when you're awake is still pretty baffling.

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.

                                                                                                                                     

If he says the whore can do…can do, can do

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  FriedEgg, April 19st, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Sara, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in Fran SanCisco.  Where they make Rice-A-Roni™, the Fran SanCisco treat. 

We, of course, have never forgiven the Rice-A-Roni™ people for stopping the inclusion of nuts in their “fried rice” variety.  Those of you who are not yet twenty-four may not remember this, but, Back In The Day (whatever the fuck THAT means), Rice-A-Roni™ “fried rice” included a little packet of slivered almonds, the addition of which made it just about the best damn junk food/hangover cure going.

Said nuts were eliminated sometime within the past decade or so (We would research this for accuracy, but seriously?  Look up your own damn nuts.), We suspect not so much as a cost-containment move as a response to the ever-increasing number of chirren with nut allergies.  To which We say, the hell?  Where did all these chirren with nut allergies come from all of a sudden?  Back when We were a chirren (please pause here and try to imagine THAT), We didn’t have all these chirren running around with nut allergies.  We all ate peanut butter all the time, and, presumably, the ones with nut allergies died.  Although We don’t recall going to a lot of nut allergy-related funerals as a chirren, either.  Maybe they lied to Us, and said those chirren moved away. You would think We would have found it odd that the chirren moved away, and yet their families still lived there, but chirren can be very self-absorbed.

This is, one would assume (thereby shoving Uma Thurman up Hume Cronyn’s ass), why most humans are incapable of licking their own nuts.

But where were We?  Oh, yes…birthday wishes.  Happy Birthday also to Jasmine, who also turns twenty-four today, and who has a rice named after her, but We shall not digress again.  Also also, Happy Birthday to Beck, who also also turns twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back, and also too also, Happy Birthday to Tim, who also too also turns twenty-four today in The BackYard Of The City That Loves You  (On Your) Back.  (That’s Our new way of saying “Suburbia”.  Aren’t We adorable?  (Don’t answer that.))

Meanwhile, on the subject of birthdays:

 "There's nothing better than cake, but more cake." 
-Harry S. Truman

We just thought We’d leave that birthday quote in there another day, since We had so many birthdays.

In other news, of interest to at least one of Our Gentle Readers (hi, Petr!) We do not watch American Idol.  And We do not say that as some sort of television snob (we DO, after all, watch Glee.  And Survivor.), but just as a statement of fact.  However, last night, We chanced to tune in to the last five minutes, after they had eliminated some hapless female contestant, and declined to save her with The Golden Ticket Of Veto or whatever the hell it is, and to the American Idol judges, We just have to say, really? It took you a whole hour, plus however many weeks preceding last night’s show, to get rid of this simple bitch, when Jaye P. Morgan of The Gong Show would have gonged her ass the instant she appeared onstage just for the monstrosity she was wearing?  Jeebus.

Is anyone still chuckling over the “lick their own nuts” joke?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.

Moving on, from The Doing What We Do Best Department, We are going to complain for a moment. (Why Complaining is not an Olympic event, We’ll never know.  We could be the Michael Phelps of Complaining. (We could also make a damn fine showing at Being Michael Phelps’s Speedo™, but that’s a whole ‘nother (dare We say, Special) Olympics.))

But We’ve digressed.  Complaining, here We go.  We were looking forward to two things this week.  (We will be scrupulously fair, and not even count going out for a nice dinner on Our birthday, from which We were prevented by Our 24-hour gastric ailment, because We did not have a concrete plan in place for that one.)  TWO THINGS, and We didn’t get either one of them.  Oh, and, one of them, We haven’t even been told We’re not getting, but We’re not getting it.

So is the answer to look forward to more things, thereby increasing Our chances of getting at least one of them, or is the answer to look forward to nothing, since We’re not getting anything anyway?

It’s a “glass half empty/glass half full” kind of question.  We would drink straight from the bottle, but We have to work tonight.

Speaking of licking your own nuts, here is the link with which you will share Our Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope:  Aries video with your friends, enemies, frenemies, enemists, and frenulums:

http://youtu.be/saxvaR85vYU

Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone in a tree, here is last year’s Aries video, featuring Our mother, Rosy Starfish, for comparison:

And now (changing, for some artifactual reason, to birthday-cake-icing-baby-blue), here are the HorrorScopes:

Okay, wait…it is James Franco’s birthday, AND Hayden Christensen’s birthday, AND Tim Curry’s birthday, and We can’t even get a muthafuggin’ piece of cake up in this jawn?  We are pretty sure We have answered Our Own “looking forward to things” question.

(Did We just say “jawn”?  Are We speaking in tongues?)

(Also, Tim Curry is not the Tim to whom we wished a Happy Birthday earlier.  We are not quite THAT senile.  Yet.)

You need to move beyond your typical surroundings — so get out there and explore!  (Kiss Us quick, We are Dora The Ex-Whore Explorer From Bangalore.  (Now THERE’S a Saturday morning cartoon that people would actually WATCH.  Something for everyone, it has.))

It’s a good time to see if your friends or allies are willing to take a trip with you, (Oh, please.  We can’t even get them to tell Us they’re NOT willing to take a trip with Us.)

or at least offer smart tips.  (Does telling Us where to go count as a “smart tip”?)

 You have much more creativity than you think you do — especially today, when the universe is sending you a bright can-do attitude.  (There is a joke bubbling up in Our joke-u-bator about “tae can do”.  Unfortunately, it’s not a very funny joke.  Kill Our darlings, We do here.)

Good thing, too, because you will be thrust (OOOOOOOOOOHHH!!!!)

into a situation that forces you to think on your feet and come up with some quick answers.  (Forty-two!  The Louisiana Purchase!  Manifest Destiny!  William Faulkner: stream of consciousness!)

(How’d We do?)

Have no fear and you will have lots of fun. (What if We’re afraid of fun?  You didn’t think of THAT, didja?)

It’s time to stop worrying about what is right or wrong and just do what feels right. (Well, hell’s bells, Kelli…We could have stopped this nonsense all the way back at Being Michael Phelps’s Speedo™.)

Forget about breaking the rules  (Forget about what?)

(Heh. SWWDT?)

— make your own new ones. (Can they involve nut-licking?)

(Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t.)

(It’s like that old Tina Turner song:  “Nut-Lick City Limits”.)

 Beware of weird energy during the daylight hours — your moods may just give you some odd romantic impulses.  (“Odd” is in the eye of the beholder, AssHat.)

By later tonight, though, some hot stuff and sweet moves are yours if you want them. (Oh, please.  Later tonight, We shall be slinging drinks and bussing tables.  And, while We would love it if Hot Stuff made some Sweet Moves, We suspect it ain’t gonna happen.)

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.