Showing posts with label Newt Gingrich. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Newt Gingrich. Show all posts

Monday, June 17, 2013

Everything’s up to date in Kansas City




Hello, Ducks!




Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherMaxFactorMonday, June 17rd, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Pete, The Artist Formerly Known As Bo Peep, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  Also, Happy Birthday to Messapotamia who also turns twenty-four today, either somewhere in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back or else possibly in The Fertile Crescent.  Which is between The Tigris and The Euphrates.  And which is also where One eats The Fertile Crescent Rolls.  Don’t ask Us difficult questions; We are Geographically Challenged.  On which subject, more later.



(Even though We know that The Euphrates is a river, from schoolday lessons about The Beginning Of Civilization (which were, of course, nonsense, Civilization having clearly begun at The Algonquin Hotel in New York City sometime in the 1920s or 30s), We cannot help but think that long-time Gentle Readers will imagine Euphrates as a cousin of MyBus riders Sucretia and Epiphany.  Ah, The Bad Old Days.)



In other news, Happy Belated Birthday to Nick, and to Rob, and to Jessica, each of whom turned twenty-four over this past weekend.



And here, with his very own Happy Belated Birthday paragraph, because that’s just the kind of Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) We are, is Michael, who also turned twenty-four this past weekend, and to whom We also wish a Happy Belated Birthday, and who really needs to become famous a lot faster so he can pay Us to destroy every existing copy of this video:





Before We begin The E-Pissode Proper (or should that be IMproper?), We would just like to share with you this little tidbit from the WorldWideInterWebNetz concerning Dame Judi Dench that We found on SitOnOurFaceBook this morning: http://groupthink.jezebel.com/tonight-in-things-i-did-not-know-before-513650758  (Lest you think We just share things indiscriminately to take up space, We shall NOT be sharing something called “Tips For Triathalon Training In Hot Weather”, which We also saw on SitOnOurFaceBook this morning.  You’re welcome.)



And now, Today’s E-Pisstle To The E-Phesians (With A-Phasia (Aphasia…another cousin of Sucretia, Epiphany, and Euphrates, yes?)):



Many of Our Gentle Readers were no doubt wondering why they had nothing to nakedly skim on Friday.  Permit Us to e-nlighten you.  We were off off off We were off to Kansas City to attend a Starfish-Browne family reunion.  Now, in the interests of privacy, We shan’t offer up any details which might subject Our family members to the harsh spotlight of WorldWideInterWebNetzian celebrity which is Our cross to bear.  So We are going to discourse, not on the events and activities of the aforementioned Starfish-Browne family reunion, but on the geographic environs of same.



Prior to this weekend’s proceedings, We were aware of Kansas only as a large square state where corn is grown, which conspires with other such large square states to make it take an annoyingly long time to get to The Other Coast. And, while that may sound disparaging, it certainly puts Kansas ahead of Missouri, about which the only thing We knew was that it was called the “Show Me” state.  (Having no idea what the hell “the Show Me state” was supposed to mean, We imagined a lot of corn-fed boys called Zeke playing doctor in bucolic porno fillums.)



Imagine Our surprise when, upon being retrieved from the Kansas City airport (they have an airport!), We discovered that sometimes We were in Kansas, and sometimes We were in Missouri.  Seriously.  Now, We Our Own Self Personally live in a tri-state area, but We have not ever once found Ourselves accidentally in New Jersey or Delaware instead of Pennsylvania.  For one thing, going to New Jersey requires crossing a bridge and, therefore, a conscious decision, generally embarked upon when One is en route to the beach (downa shore) or en route to New York.  Going to Delaware, while not requiring crossing a bridge, is also not something One simply stumbles into, unless One has made a conscious decision to go to the beach (Rehomo) or to avoid sales tax.  So this “now-you’re-in-one-state-now-you’re-in-the-other” business left Us completely flummoxed.



To add to Our confusion (which, admittedly, is not difficult), at no point did We see so much as a cornstalk, let alone amber waves of grain.  Which, now that We think about it, could refer to wheat as well, but We didn’t see any of that, either.  Also, when We were in Missouri (or at least when they TOLD Us We were in Missouri), nobody Showed Us anything, least of all cornfed boys called Zeke playing doctor.



So there We are, like Faye Dunaway in that scene in Chinatown (“You’re in Kansas! (SLAP!) You’re in Missouri! (SLAP!)” (Heh.  We kill Us.)), when they struck the coup de grâce:  Kansas City, they sez, is in Missouri.  Or at least part of it is.



Quite frankly, at that point, We stopped listening.



Also, next year’s Starfish-Browne family reunion will be in Souf Philly.  Or possibly Mesopotamia, depending upon the fertility of Our crescent rolls.  (Slick callback, no?  We are A Highly-Trained Professional…do not attempt this at home.)



We are almost out of time, but We will just tell you that We thought We had met Our future ex-husband, who piloted Our aeroplane to said family festivities, but We were mistaken, as he told Us that he lives “just outside of Kansas City”, and We now have no earthly idea in what state that would be.




Did We mention Judi Dench’s embroidery?




In still other news, you will notice the appearance above of Our new Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: GEMINI 2013 video. We expect you will do your usual bang-up job of sharing it with all of your friends using this link: http://youtu.be/Yj7enrUk6js , because you care about Us like that.




For those who enjoy history, here is Our Gemini 2011 video, which was Our very first one:







And now the HorrorScopes:



In celebrity birthday news, Newt Gingrich and Barry Manilow were born on the exact same day, and for some reason that is making Us laugh.  It is also Venus Williams’s birthday, a fact which We mention only because for the first time We are wondering if she has a brother named Uranus.  Also, to keep things in perspective, it is the birthday of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!’s patron saint, MC Escher.



Try to push back your own concerns a bit (What if We’re too concerned to concern Ourself with that?)




— you’ve got some friends or coworkers who need you now!  (Ah, the infamous Exclamation Point Of Faux Urgency!)




If you can defer gratification for a bit longer, (“Defer gratification”?  Surely you jest.  Instant gratification isn’t fast enough.)




you should be able to score some great karma!  (Also, for every fifth karma you score, you get a chameleon.)




No one — not even you — can be selfless and generous all the time! (Can We be selfish and generish?)




It’s okay to mix a few selfish acts in with your good deeds today. (You heard the lady…c’mere, Zeke.)




Don’t do anything too egomaniacal (Or Episcopalian.  (Or JoePiscopalian.))



— just put yourself first a few times when you usually wouldn’t. (And that would be when?)




This isn’t an excuse to forget your manners (Or your womanners.)




but it is a reminder that you need to treat yourself like the star you are a little bit more often.  (What star should We treat Ourself like today?)




Okay, it’s true that mother doesn’t always know best, (You’d better not let The Sainted Mother hear you say that.)




but a piece of folksy, homespun advice hits home (Eeeuuuwww…are We gonna have to clean it up?)




when it comes to love. (Which, We are told, you can’t hurry.  No, you just have to wait.)




Even though you may not like the source, you can’t deny how accurate the homily is. (Alternatively, how accurate the hominy grits.)



(We have no idea what that meant, but it’s kind of like corn.  Which allegedly grows in Kansas.  As high as an elephant’s eye.  Although that’s in Oklahoma.  Not Arizona.  What does it matter?)




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.

                                                                                                                                     

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Art isn’t easy


Hello, Ducks!



Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Wednesday, January 30, 2013.   Happy Birthday to Kevin, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in Greater Bostonia.  It occurs to Us that We know all of the people We know in Greater Bostonia because of the WorldWideInterWebNetz.  Without which, We also wouldn’t be writing this, and YouPeople wouldn’t be nakedly skimming it. What exactly did We all do before there were InterNetz, anyway?  Weren’t We bloody bored all the time?



Meanwhile, We are ever-so-veddy-veddy proud of today’s Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!  Pixture Du Jour Au Jus To Wong Foo Marilyn McCoo that We could just bust a gusset.  If We knew what a gusset was.  (Okay, We Googled it on Wikipedia.  Because We’re an Inquiring Mind like that.  And now We have decided that Busta Gusset needs to be the name of a drag rapper. (Are there drag rappers?  Because there totally should be.))



Speaking of drag rappers, 82-year-old Jim Nabors finally came out of the closet and married his partner of 38 years recently.  (We shall pause here to give all the youngsters a chance to Google “who the fuck is Jim Nabors?” on Wikipedia.)  We shall refrain from saying, “Surprise!  Surprise!  Surprise!”  We shall also refrain from saying, “Shazam!”  Because really, We’re funnier than that.



No, REALLY…We ARE.



Micro$oft Weird™ doesn’t think “shazam” is a word.  Where the hell did Micro$oft Weird™ grow up?  Communist Russia?  Clearly, Micro$oft Weird™ is a foreign spy sent to infiltrate These United States if it doesn’t know “Shazam”.  What else doesn’t it know?  Mom?  Apple pie?  All the words to Bohemian Rhapsody?



Gentle Readers who  like the serialized aspect of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! will be shrilled and ignited to learn that We finished Our hush, hush, sweet Charlotte Rae project yesterday, and will be sending it off today.  Even though they extended the deadline.  By ONE DAY.  Till tomorrow.  Who DOES that?  Meanwhile, said project got more and more irritating as the day went on, each step seeming to require Us to learn some new technical skill or find some arcane piece of software.  On the plus side, even once the thing is flushed into The Cesspool Of The Futility Of All Human Endeavor, We will know how to do a whole bunch of things We knew not how to do before.



So yay the fuck Us.



Meanwhile, “cesspool”?  Pool of cess?  Is “cess” even a thing?  Have We discussed this before?



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






And here are the HorrorScopes:



Today’s list of celebrity birthdays is woefully uninspiring, thus forcing Us to wish a happy birthday to Gleb Kotelnikov, who invented the parachute.  Aviators everywhere are grateful that he (“he” being, We realize, a completely sexist assumption, although We feel that “Gleb” is a masculine name, as opposed to, say, “Glebette” or “Glebbina”) didn’t name his invention after himself.


And that right there?  Was Us, making chicken salad out of chicken shit.


Speaking of which, here just in is Our InterNetzian Thought Of The Day:


When you color outside the lines, you are able to make a bigger picture.



You are much better off helping others today than trying to get your own work done.  (Well, you know what They say:  God helps those who help themselves to another heaping helping of some hoss-pitt-alli-tee.  (Why anyone still listens when They talk is a mystery to Us.))


Things are just lined up against you, (Is it a football team?  Are they sweaty?)


but a little extra karma should help you immensely. (Was that a fat joke?  Because it SOUNDED like a fat joke.)


 Go for it!  (We would, but We don’t know where ”it” is, so where are We supposed to go?)


Turn all of your attention (Sorry…did you say something?)


toward business today. (We run ColbyCo now!  (Hang on…we need to stitch some shoulderpads into this bathrobe.))


You don’t necessarily have to focus on stocks, bonds, or investment-types of business. (What about monkey business?  We could eat some monkeybread on the monkeybars…)


 Instead, you might really want to deal with anything that requires official documents or meetings with professionals.  (WHORES!!!)


Move forward in your negotiations, but act conservatively.  (Kiss Us quick, We’re Newt Gingrich’s proctologist.)


(Okay, it just occurred to Us…you go to four years of college, four years of medical school, internship, residency…and you’re a proctologist.  Who does that?  And WHY?)


It’s always better to be safe than sorry.  (Despite what you might think, however, it is only USUALLY better to be smart than stupid.  It is neither better nor worse to be spry than slimy.)


Honesty and integrity are a natural part of who you are, so utilize these qualities to get what you need right now.  (How honesty and integrity are going to get Us Johnny Depp’s phone number, We haven’t got any idea.)


Art and music are healing forces in your life.  (Fine.  C’mon over, and let Us spray paint your organ.)


(What?)



Express your insides through images and sounds.  (We would put a fart joke here, but that would be redundant.)


 (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.
                                                                                                                                    

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

That’s why We love vegetables: We know what they’re about




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for SuperTuesday, March 6, 2012.  Whatever are We going to do for comedy once there’s only ONE Republiklan running for president?  Sigh.

Speaking of comedy, Himself’s show is only one week away.  Do you have your tickets yet?  Anybody who’s nobody in the Republiklan Party will be there, including Mittens, Newt, Frothy Mix, Ron Paul, and Dr. Phil. Non-political guest stars are rumored to include Ellen DeGeneres, Joan Rivers, Jesus H. Christ and Mrs. Mary MotherOfGod, and Satan.  And of course, everybody’s favorite ménage a twat…er, trois, The Real HouseWives of South Philly, will be there with bells on.  (On WHAT, We’re not telling.) The Real HouseWives of South Philly March Into Madness! is playing one night only, Tuesday, March 13 at 8PM at Helium Comedy Club:  https://www.seatengine.com/redesign/eventDetails.aspx?venueslug=helium-comedy-club&id=897

Meanwhile, poor Justin Bieber is distraught that HE is not appearing in the WaitStaff show.  Why’n’t’cha cheer him up by (A.) telling him it’s probably not done growing yet and (2.) going to watch his video: http://youtu.be/qqEjYYBFxG4  Also, We don’t seem to know anyone whose birthday is today.  But if you do, why’n’t’cha go post that link on their SitOnMyFaceBook page and brighten their day?  Not to mention Ours. KThxBye.


And now, it’s all fun and games till somebody puts out an Eye-talian.  (What does that even MEAN?)  Here’s the HorrorScope:

 

Your impulsive antics are the stuff of legend, and on a day like today, you can really show off!  (You have no idea how far off We can show.  None.)

 

You may find that your people are in awe as you play, (Our people, if, indeed, people We had, would generally be found in Oz.)

 

flirt (Is it just Us, or does “flirt” sound like a fart in pantyhose?)

 

(You WISH you could spend a day in what passes for Our mind, don’t’cha?)

 

and otherwise make life good fun.  (What the hell is “good fun”?  Does that mean there’s also such a thing as “bad fun”?  ‘Cause, if you ask Us, bad fun sounds better.)

 

(It just occurred to Us to ask Our friends in Greater Bostonia (are there any Greater Bostonians in da house?) if they say “wicked fun”.  Because “bad fun” sounds better, but “wicked fun” sounds best.)

 

 You may not even be looking for a new romance, (Or vintage hotpants.)

 

(What?)

 

(Apparently, hotpants are SO vintage that Micro$oft Weird™ doesn’t even recognize their existence.)

 

 but that won’t matter to someone who’s trying to turn your head. (Especially if they’re trying to turn it all the way around.)

 

So you’ll have to stay consistent in how you react to this person’s flattery today.  (Because flattery will get you eveningwear.  (Eveningvair…very nice.))

 

If you want more, you should encourage it. (How odd that One can ENcourage, and One can DIScourage, but One cannot simply courage. (If One is truly perverse, One can also decoupage One’s entourage, but this?  Is Not That Kind Of Horoscope.))

 

But if you don’t, do not send mixed signals. (Better mixed signals than mixed vegetables.  (Remember mixed vegetables?  Corn, peas, green beans, carrots, and lima beans, and yet somehow, the whole damn mess tasted like lima beans.  Gack.))

 

The situation could escalate in a way that’ll end up making you both unhappy. (Is it just Us, or does that sentence sound exactly like “your daughter’s pregnancy has brought much happiness to our village”?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

 

Nip things in the bud. (Screw that…nip ‘em in the butt.  It’s more fun.)

 

Be gentle and kind, but say what you really mean and be clear about what you really want.  (What do We want?  A cure for Tourette’s! When do We want it?  Cunt!)

 

The idea right now is to always be prepared.  (We are totally prepared for a Boy Scout.  Actually, if you give Us two Boy Scouts, We shall rub them together and make fire.)

 

Before you leave the house, check your hair, apply a little makeup, put on a clean shirt, whatever.  (Does anybody else distrust advice that ends with “whatever”?)

 

You never know — the hottie in front of you at the DMV might just be ready and raring to go! (We were going to sit here and think up funny things that “DMV” could stand for, but it’s nice outside, so We’re going to go for a walk instead.  Talk amongst yourselves.)

 

(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.