It never rains in Southern California

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s!Periodic!Horoscope! for JustAnotherManiacallyManicuringManlyManateesInManchurianMantillasMonday,  July TwennySebbenst, 2015.

We find Ourselves (did YouPeople even realize We had gone missing?) currently in the sign of Leo, Our most recent video for which is above. (Our very first Leo video is below.)

Long-time Gentle Readers will recall that We are somewhat fixated on Leos, being as they are the undisputed sexiest sign of the zodiac.

(Whoever started disputing…just shut up.)

Speaking of sexy Leos, lettuce get right to it, shall We?  Happy birthday to Will, who turns twenty-four today  right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  Happy birthday also to Summer, who also turns twenty-four today, also right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, happy birthday to newcomer Josh, who may not EVEN turn twenty-four today, albeit (and who doesn’t love a good “albeit”) right here in the self-same aforementioned City.  Josh is currently appearing in BrainSpunk Theatre’s Mercury Fur,  more on which in several paragraphs hence.

And now, We shall say “and now” again.  Also, in the time-honored tradition (well, since February-or-so, anyway) of Eric’s!Periodic!Horoscope!, We hereby wish Happy Belated Birthdays to the most-mouth-watering birthday suits to have celebrated birthdays since last We e-pisstled.  So, Happy Belated Birthday to Adam, Allen, Christopher, Eric, Erik , Joe, Josh, Matt, Michael, Scott, and Zach.

Before We put paid to  the subject of birthday wishes, We realized in the course of writing this that, of the gentlemen wished Happy Birthdays above, We have seen exactly ONE  of them in his birthday suit.

What the hell is up with that? All of you gentlemen whom We have NOT seen in your birthday suits, please send Us pixtures of the birthdays suits in question. (How many times do We need to repeat this until YouPeople realize that We ARE NOT JOKING?) 

(In the interest of accuracy, We have ALSO seen one of the aforementioned gentlemen almost in his birthday suit.  But “almost” only counts in whore shoes, so come back and finish the job, already.)

Despite the fact that none of YouPeople missed Us, We have, in fact, been gone.  We were at The Sainted Mother’s for a week, and also family reunionating.  The obligatory “Our Feet At The Pool” selfie is above, for all of Our foot-fetishist Gentle Readers.  (You’re welcome. (This version of Micro$oft Weird™ is apparently so old that it doesn’t recognize the word “selfie”.  Sigh.))

Speaking of family reunions, We had a dream last night in which We were working at some very posh hotel or some such in Los Angeles (or “El Lay”, as We like to call it).  We were getting ready to do Our murder mystery in the ENORMOUS classic marble lobby of same, when a torrential downpour caused the place to flood (despite the fact that it allegedly never rains in Southern California).  

Once We got the flood cleared up, Our family reunion arrived to see the murder mystery.  Everyone was wearing tuxedoes and evening gowns (appropriately by gender (it being Our family, We know you had questions)).

We woke up before the show actually happened, but not before We had seen Paul Newman twice during the proceedings. 

YOUNG Paul Newman.  

YOUNG, NOT-DEAD Paul Newman.

Lest you think We only dream about sexy celebrities, a day or two ago We had a dream in which Danny DeVito was helping Us paint Our living room.

But enough of all that…let’s get some culture up in this here jawn.  

On Friday night, the Murder Mystery Factory being closed due to lack of interest, We collected a handsome young gentleman of Our acquaintance (well, technically, he collected Us, but whatevs) and headed off to war-torn Kensington to see BrainSpunk Theatre’s Mercury Fur,  starring the aforementioned Josh, and a host of other dazzlingly talented folks, and directed by another dazzlingly talented Josh, who, coincidentally, appears in the “happy belated birthday” list above.  (But whom We have NOT seen in his birthday suit.  (Nor even ALMOST in his birthday suit. (Just to be clear.)))

We knew almost nothing about the play going in, and so were in a state of almost constant awe at the proceedings.  The play itself is poetic and lyrical without ever veering into esoteric incomprehensibility, and the direction and performances are so spot-on and committed that We would venture to say this was one of Our favorite evenings in the theatre in a long time.

We will share some links to some (stellar) reviews in a moment,  but what they do not stress is that, controversial subject matter aside,  the play itself is more or less traditional, not at all avant garde, and completely accessible (and We mean that all in the very best way…We hate plays that try to be smarter than the audience, and that employ weirdness for weirdness’s sake).

We shall also point out, because We are shallow like that, that the cast of this play is one of the overall most attractive casts We’ve seen in quite a while as well.

Math not being Our strong suit, We are nevertheless fairly certain that you only have four chances left to see this show.  And you MUST see this show.  Get your tickets here:  http://www.brainspunktheater.com/#!tickets/c9a0

Read more literate reviews here: http://phindie.com/8525-mercury-fur-brainspunk-the-hills-are-alive-with-the-sound-of-post-apocalyptic-horror/

And here:

http://blog.phillyweekly.com/2015/07/27/wth-brainspunks-mercury-fur-is-a-wild-ride-and-not-for-the-faint-of-heart/

Tell ‘em Starzina sent ya.

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In other news, fuck the motherfucking Pope.  The goddamn President of the United States can come to Philadelphia, and everybody goes about their goddamn business as usual, but some old man in a dress shows up, and suddenly We’re gonna be a police state.  Go visit somewhere else, fucker.

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As We mentioned earlier, We are now, of course, in the sign of Leo, Our video for which is above.  And here, because it is also brillllllliant, is Our original Leo video, which was the very third video We made:

Here are the links with which you may share those videos with both of your friends:   

https://youtu.be/6kCzNp1JtDo

https://youtu.be/jNJh1di7OXk

As a Public Service to those of you who are nude here…er, new here, here is a link to a previous e-pissode, which contains, amongst other things, an amusing review of Fifty Shades of Grey: 

http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2015/06/i-put-spell-on-you.html .

Moving on, didja know that We have been e-pisstling e-pissodes of these e-pisstles in one form or another since 2001?  Every scintillating e-pissode from 2005, for instance, (now TEN YEARS OLD) can be found in charming dead-tree format here: 

http://www.lulu.com/shop/eric-singel/erics-daily-horoscope-2005/ebook/product-17475744.html ? 

In celebrity birthday news, there is not much going on today.  (Bobbie Gentry, anyone?  Anyone?)  It is, We are informed, Kenny Wormald’s birthday today.  Kenny Wormald, We are also informed, starred in the recent Footloose remake.  We are unfamiliar with his work, but, despite the fact that he is no Kevin Bacon, We would venture to say that he IS  one of Our future ex-husbands.

Thank Gawd We didn’t stray from the point.

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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.

                                                                                                                                    

So sweet and soft and gentle, my favorite Oriental

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Whiskey, August 4, 2011.  Happy birthday to Monica, who turns twenty-four today.  And We do hope and pray that Our absence yesterday did not cause any of you to fail to celebrate National Grab Some Nuts Day, which was yesterday, and We wish you a Happy Belated One, and hope all your nuts were well and truly grabbed.  (We just report ‘em, folks, We don’t make ‘em up. (If you don’t believe Us, Google “National Grab Some Nuts Day” on Wikipedia and see.))  And, though it pales by comparison, Happy Hump Day, or, perhaps, this week, Happy Grab Some MORE Nuts Day.

(Speaking of senility, which We actually do later, but We just came back here because it was the most convenient spot and We can time travel like that, because We have a time machine, which is in the credenza, which, as luck would have it, is in the time machine, it just occurred to Us that it is not Whiskey at all but Thirsty, and thus, Our Hump Day wishes are belated as well, and National Grab Some Nuts Day and Hump Day were actually the same day.  However, We refuse to let rectumtude interfere with the brilliance that was the preceding paragraph, so We’re letting it stand.)

Suddenly, We cannot remember the word for “fear of heights”.  Senility is not for pussies.  We know that “agoraphobia” is fear of going outside, and “angoraphobia” is fear of going outside wearing a sweater, and “claustrophobia” is fear of clusterfucks.  We know that “phobophobia” is fear of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and fear itself, and “aibohphobia” is fear of palindromes, and We just made up “onomatopoeiaphobia”, which is fear of spelling bees, But damned if We can remember what fear of heights is.  But, whatever it is, We haz it, and would very much like to stop having dreams in which We are trapped on the tops of very tall buildings and forced to crawl along gutters and ledges.  KThxBye.

(Apropos of nothing, We also just made up “onomatopoeiacideophobia”, which is fear of killer spelling bees.  Or spelling killer bees.  Or killing Tori Spelling.  One of those.)

So.  Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and Tori Spelling.  Not only in the same horoscope, but now in the same sentence.  Well, sentence fragment.  But still.  Never let it be said that We do not have catholic tastes.  Why, We tasted many a Catholic back in the day.  We were an altar boy, after all. (It was a Shakespearean cross dressing sort of thing.  Plus We couldn’t resist the joke. (We are striving for a second joke, involving Wishbone™ Cross Dressing, but We fear failure is imminent.  Despite the thought of throwing Paul Newman into the mix, which just occurred to Us.))

Next year’s Fringe, We’re gonna bag all this rehearsing crap and just take people on an hour-long tour of Our mind.

Speaking of the Fringe, have you got your tickets for the hottest show in this year’s Fringe Festival yet?  Here at Casa de Clambake, We are working Our fingers to the very boner (ahem) on this show.  Why, tomorrow morning, We are dragging Himself’s ass out of bed at 8AM to meet with the costume designer.  Which is mostly a moot point, because nobody makes Spanx™ that big.  But whatevs.  In case We have been unclear on this subject, Himself will be bringing back his marriage equality one-man show, The Wedding Consultant, from September 2-18, at the Walnut Street Theatre Independence Studio on 3. Needless to say (and yet promptly saying it), you are all expected to attend. Especially those who didn’t so much show up last time.  And yes, We have kept records.  Drop by on SitOnMyFaceBook here:  http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=187844157946759

Watch this video, or tomorrow, We’ll post pictures of Himself in his foundation garments:

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: Tori Spelling’s reinterpretation of the “Day That Will Live In Infamy” speech.  Accompanied by Paul Newman on the onomatopoeia, and Franklin Delano Roosevelt on the wheelchair.  Or, the HorrorScope:

Today is perfect for pouring on the charm (Always after me fuckin’ charm…it’s massively suspicious.)

and seeing if you can get your way through friendly means. (What about getting Our means through weaselly friends?  Or getting Our friends through menial ways?  Why, the possibilities are limitless.)

 It’s all too easy to bluster your way to success, (Sez YOU.)

but why waste the energy if you don’t have to?  (Oddly enough, that’s exactly what it says on the front of Our panties.)

 If a friend or loved one has been acting out of character, today is a good day to try to find out what’s on their mind. (Do We have to pretend to care?)

Be very careful not to push them too hard on it — just let them know you’re ready to listen if they’re ready to talk. (Wait…there’s a time when WE’RE not the one talking?!?)

They’ll appreciate the fact that you care and the fact that you respect them enough to listen. (And just think of how much more they’ll appreciate the fact that We bother to expend the energy to PRETEND to care, and PRETEND to listen.  Why, We may end up being crowned queen.)

But don’t take it personally if they choose not to confide in you. (Hey, as long as there are snacks.  Will there be snacks?)

It might be too soon, or it might be something they need to figure out on their own.  (Well, bugger off then.)

You’re feeling stuck somehow  (Actually, not so much.)

— don’t hesitate to talk it out. (Um…okay.)

(Heh. See what We did there?)

Someone unattached, even an acquaintance is a great option. (So, basically, We’re one step away from hiring a hooker.)

Stick with the facts (Ma’am.)

and stay out of the emotion. (On the other hand, c’mon, baby, do the locomotion.)

(Everybody’s doin’ a brand new dance now…oh, sorry; is that stuck in your head now?  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)

You’ll articulate your feelings more clearly without the mental muck. (Aaaand right away We have the protagonist of Our next children’s book, Dental Duck.  (Having rejected Rental Truck as too boring, Lentil Luck as too Chinese, and Gentle Fuck as a whole different genre of litty-choor.))

 (Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com)

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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.