President Fillmore still more glad

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  JustAnotherMillardFillmoreMonday, February 18, 2013.  Happy Presidents Day, everybody!  Those Gentle Readers with children must have already sung a bunch of Presidents Day carols around the Presidents Day tree, and opened all their Presidents Day presents.  Here at OurHouseWhereWeLive, We’ve gotten a bit of a late start this morning, so Our celebrations have only gotten as far as Martin van Buren.

Our mind being what it is (or should that be “what it isn’t”, i.e. functional?), typing Martin van Buren just then made Us think of Mamie van Doren.  It did not, unfortunately, make Us think of a joke involving the two of them, because, really, how many Martin van Buren jokes can there be?

We have a lot of birthday wishes today, as We neglected to wish weekend-birthday folks a happy birthday in advance on Friday, so We’re doing Double Doody Today Tootie Rootie Tootie Fresh And Fruity.

(Sorry…Our needle got stuck.   (Old-timers will imagine that We mean a phonograph needle, but you youngsters will surmise (correctly) that We’re talking about a hypodermic needle.  (Heroin…it’s not just for breakfast any more.)))

Happy Birthday to Mark, who turns twenty-four today in Arizona or some such state with an embarrassing governor.  (In Oklahoma, not Arizona, what does it matter? What does it matter? (That there was a little musical interlude.  On the hi-fi, for you oldsters.))

Happy Birthday also to Evan, who turns twenty-four today in New Yawk, and to Caroline, who turns twenty-four today in suburbia, and to Christopher, who not only turns twenty-four today, but also turned twenty-four over the weekend.  Because he is two different people.

Howzzat for a segue?  (What’s a segue?  About a pound and a half.  (Try to keep up, people, these jokes ain’t getting’ any younger.))

Happy Birthday to Aaron, and Donna, and Rachel, each of whom turned twenty-four over the weekend, without any help from each other, as, to the best of Our knowledge, they are unacquainted.  Also, Happy Birthday to Rich, who’s all like, “Twenty-four?  Day-um, y’all are OLD!”, and how cosmopolitan are We, to actually know people who aren’t twenty-four yet?

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

Speaking of fillums, do NOT miss tomorrow’s e-pisstle, as it will be A Very Special E-Pissode for those who enjoy Our viZZZuals.

In other news, HimSelf asked Us to thank all of those who came out to watch him embarrass HimSelf as Jesus H. Christ in The VD Match Game.  A good time was apparently had by all, except those with any taste or decency.

Meanwhile, speaking of birthdays, We had an amazingly revelatory dream this weekend. The details are a bit hazy, as We had it on Friday night, but essentially, in Our dream, it was Our birthday.

(We interrupt this dream to inform you that Our actual birthday is April 17^th, and don’t let the fact that We spend all year wishing all y’all Happy Birthdays influence you in any way whatsoever.  KThxBye.)

And on Our birthday in this dream (did We all of a sudden start singing “Old MacDonald Had A Farm (and Bingo Was His Name-O)”?  (Oh, is that stuck in your head now?  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad.)), people were saying mean things to Us.  On Our BIRTHDAY!  So We said to them, We said (get ready for it): “Shut the fuck up, it’s my birthday!”

(We frequently eschew (gesundheit (thank you)) The Royal We in Our dreams.)

How ingenious is that?  At first blush, you might think it would only work on One’s actual birthday.  But, really, in addition to that, if the mean people were unacquainted with One’s actual birthday (as mean people are wont to be), it would work on any day of the year.  (Although not, perhaps, on two days in succession.)  And, even if the mean people were acquainted with One’s actual birthday, it would certainly give them a moment’s pause.

We think We shall start saying it all the time.  Perhaps We shall “make it happen”.  Much like “fetch”.  (But UNlike “too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad”, which Our Google-O-Meter™ informs Us We are the only person on the WorldWideInterWebNetz ever to have said.)

And here are the HorrorScopes:

(Okay, not only Presidents Day, but also Yoko Ono’s birthday?  We’re gonna need to bake more cookies!)

You need to take it easy (Nothing is as easy as We are.  We are easy…easy like an Easy-Bake Oven™… (Bite Us, Lionel Richie.))

and see if you can get a little help  (Wait…We have help?  What is this, Downton Abbey?)

— things are going your way, but you could always use a little lift. (Or a little nip-tuck.  (Tell Us what you don’t like about yourself.))

Check in with a friend or coworker to see if you can work together.  (It is Presidents Day, bee-yotch.  Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat.)

Be prepared for a few scheduling hiccups, today. (Oh, please.  If only Our schedule ever only hiccupped.  Usually it breaks out in hives, and then shits itself.)

 (That there was a werd pixture We created just for you.  You’re welcome.)

Suddenly, (And without warning?)

an unforeseen event  (Much like the Pope’s resignation, We did Nazi that coming.)

could limit your free time and make you feel a little bit like you’re under the gun.  (Whose gun is it, exactly?)

But have no fear!  (Underdog is here!)

This rapid change of pace will not send you down a stressful path.  (Perhaps a primrose path?)

Instead, it will be invigorating and bring out your competitive, aggressive nature.  (Yeah, that doesn’t sound stressful AT ALL.)

This will be a funday, (Monday Funday?  That almost NEVER happens!)

full of twists and turns that keep you on the edge of your seat — and ready for the next curveball to come your way!  (Why are they throwing balls at Us if We’re sitting down?  We’re not very good at this sort of thing, Kelli, but We fear you may have muddled your sports metaphor.)

 You might run into a romantic obstacle today,  (See also:  Big Ol’ Dick.)

but when does that ever stop you?  (See also: Three-Legged Race.)

You’ve got plenty of possibilities,  (We’ve got plenty o’ nuthin’, and nuthin’s plenty for We.)

so make the most of them.  (Don’t tell Us what to do.  (We would love to close with a Martin van Buren joke, to be all thematological and all, but We know exactly nothing about him.  Lettuce go Google him on Wikipedia, and see if there’s anything funny about him…BRB…))

(Nope, he was boring.  We’re outtie.)

(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.

                                                                                                                                    

Is your figure less than Greek?

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  Thursday, February 14, 2013.  Long-time Gentle Readers are no doubt anticipating an anti-VD screed this morning, but, quite Anne Frankly (she’s in the attic!!!), We are much too excited about Our impending Popedom to be concerned with the sticky interactions of mere mortals.  Especially since We learned that, once We have ascended to the Popal Throne, We will become infallible!  We shall no doubt have to rebrand these e-pisstles as A Papal Bull.  (Not that that’s much of a stretch.)   One wonders if Our infallibility will cure typos retroactively?

The other reason We are not all up on Our anti-VD high-horse-powered unicorn is that We have received, once again, Our annual VD billet-doux from the elusive, shy, retiring Monsieur Johnny Depp. (Did anyone else just say that with a Frawnch accent and come in their Own panties?   Just Us?  Alrighty, then.  (Hey, why do these still say “Tuesday”?))

Speaking of Monsieur Johnny Depp (sigh), this is an historic Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! occasion for another reason.  Our Google-O-Meter™’s Google-O-Metrix™, by way of the handy and dandy index off to the right there, inform Us that today marks Our one-hundredth mention of Monsieur Depp within these hallowed pages.  As there are currently about seven hundred of these e-pisstles here in Bloggonia, that means that, if We had (subjunctively) been writing these every day of the week for a hundred weeks, We would have mentioned Monsieur Depp every Thursday, say, despite Monday’s child being fair of face which seats five, and despite still wearing Our Tuesday panties.  Do you follow?

You do?  God bless Us and save Us!  (That was pretty Papal, wunnit?)  So here’s a little game, especially for Our long-time Gentle Readers.  In addition to Monsieur Depp, there are twelve other celebrities who appear in our index more than twenty times.  (Any analogy to Jesus and the twelve apostles is purely intentional.  (Hey, Wer’e gonna be the fuckin’ Pope…are you gonna tell Us We’re wrong?))  Without cheating by looking off to the right there, how many can you name?  Leave your answers in the comments below.  (Here’s a hint:  Anne Frank, who has already been referenced in today’s e-pissode, isn’t one of them.)  We’ll supply answers tomorrow.

Speaking of old men in dresses and ruby slippers,  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:

Wow!  Not only VD, not only Our 100^th mention of Monsieur Johnny Depp (sigh), but also Thelma Ritter’s birthday!  Does it get any better than this?  (If she were (subjunctively) still with Us, Thelma would be 101 today.  Like the Dalmatians.

Your instincts are guiding you to explore new territory (And just wait till you see Us mark it.)

— so get out there and mix it up with new people, places and things!  (Nouns!  They’re not just for breakfast anymore.)

You can’t go wrong as long as you are out there making discoveries.  (Of course We can’t; We’re infallible.  (Of course, this does beg the question of what happens if We TRY to go wrong…))

Today is one of those days (Indeed.)

when the more organized you are, the more you will enjoy yourself. (No worries there.)

So do yourself a favor  (Because damn skippy nobody else will.)

and start the day by evaluating what needs to be done and how you are going to go about doing it. (Won’t We have people for that?  Papal people?  Who use PayPal™?  (Are the luckiest people in the world… ))

 (Sorry.)

But making a plan doesn’t necessarily have to kill any chance of spontaneity (We have spontaneity on Our calendar for 4:15.)

— it just lays out a nice road map for you to follow.  (Is it a yellow brick road map?)

(Was that a really gay question?)

Feel free to go off the beaten path here and there, but when you do be thoughtful about it. (There are so many things wrong with that sentence, We don’t even know where to begin.)

(The correct answer, meanwhile to the “Was that a really gay question?” question is, “As gay as a bag full of dicks.”  You’re welcome.)

Keep things simple (Easy for you to say.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

and pace yourself.  (“Pace yourself before you mace yourself” just doesn’t have the same ring as “check yourself before you wreck yourself”. Discuss.)

You’re all about fresh starts (Stretch farts…there’s the punchline; somebody write the joke for Us.)

and new opportunities, but your energy is pushing you to apply it to the romantic present (There are presents?  Yay!)

instead of the future.  (Where’s Our damn stretch farts joke?)

Figure it out right away.  (Don’t tell Us what to do!  We are the fucking POPE, fercrissakes!)

(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.

                                                                                                                                    

You're fat as a horse and find that you're knocked up

 Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  Wednesday, February 13, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Fran, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in suburbia.  And, to the rest of YouPeople, Happy Hash Wednesday.  Also, Happy Chinese New Year.      Welcome to the Chinese Year of the Trouser Snake.  But don’t be alarmed…it’s Chinese.  So the trousers are pajamas, and the snake is an inchworm.  Also also, Happy VD Eve.  Which is like Summer’s Eve™, but with thirty-seven percent more douche.  Why “douche” doesn’t rhyme with “touché”, We’ll never know.

As you can see, William Faulkner’s urine stream of consciousness continues to have nothing on Us.

Remember, man, that thou fart dust; they cancelled As the World Turns.

Do you think We could get His Popeness to explain that to Us real quick before he goes off to play golf, or tat doilies, or whatever it is that retired Popes do with themselves?  Oh, wait…there hasn’t BEEN a retired Pope since 1415.

Naturally, We are only jesting like this to distract Ourself from Our upcoming audition for Popehood.  We don’t want to get overconfident.  Although We’re pretty sure We’ve got the whole thing in the bag.  We’ve decided to sing “Tap Your Troubles Away” from Mack and Mabel for Our upbeat number, and “Defying Gravity” from Wicked for Our ballad.  And for Our monologue, We’re going completely off the board and doing Sojourner Truth’s Ain’t I A Woman.  None of the other candidates will be doing THAT.

But the thing that has Us the MOST excited is that we have just this minute learned that the Pope…is INFALLIBLE!  And, as you all know, We thought We were wrong once, but We were MISTAKEN!  Talk about a shoe-in!  To demonstrate Our infallibility, We thought that, for Our dance number, We’d perform all seven parts of the “Who’s That Woman?” number from Follies.  Sondheim is pretty infallible, right?  Even if he did write the music for Dick Tracy.

Speaking of old men in dresses and ruby slippers,  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:

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any more festive, it is Stockard Channing’s sixty-ninth birthday!  Which means she was thirty-four when she played a high school student in Grease. Math is hard.

Your active energy is making life a lot more interesting (We thought We smelled something.)

— and your friends and colleagues are more than willing to let you lead the way!  (Lazy bastards.)

Don’t think too hard, (No worries there.)

just take action.  (We are fairly certain that it was Sir Isaac Newton who said, “For every action, there is an equal and opposite inaction”.  A fact of which We pride Ourself of being the (barely) living proof.  (Sir Isaac Newton was better known, naturally, for inventing the Fig Newton™.  Because, seriously, would you rather have physics, or cookies?))

A very unique culture is inspiring you right now, (Indeed.  It has taken over most of the crisper in Our fridge.)

so today you need to start trying to integrate it into your life more. (Honey, We’re already doing Sojourner Truth; how much more integrated can We get?)

Whether you do it through the food you eat, the music you listen to, or the places you hang out in, immersing yourself in something new will invigorate you and fill you with an incredible sense that anything is possible.  (Don’t fuck with Us…We’re infallible.)

Take a real break and get out in the world, experiencing all the light and the heat.  (Bitch, it is February.  Back AWAY from the crackpipe.)

Tonight, do something participatory — go dancing or hit a karaoke bar — instead of just watching passively. (Oh. Our. God.  We should totally go be infallible at a karaoke bar!)

(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.