Showing posts with label Ricky Martin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ricky Martin. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Livin’ la vida loca



Hello, Ducks!



Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  WinesDay, April Turd, Twenty-Turdteen.  Happy birthday to Erin, who turns twenty-four today.



We started writing today’s e-pissode in the middle, with the Ricky Martin piece, because it wasn’t grabby enough to be the lead, but yet it sprang forth fully formed from Our fevered brain, kind of like Athena out of Zeus’s forehead.  For those of you who are into Greek.



So if this all seems just a little more disjointed (double-jointed?  (did somebody say “joint”? (does “double-jointed” mean there are TWO joints?))) than usual, that could be why.  (Or it could just be Our senility.)



You may notice that, subsequent to Our writing the Ricky Martin piece, We were unable to find anything else grabby enough to be the lead, either.  Too bad, so sad, anal sex with your dad. (Resistance is futile, people.  We are going to keep saying that until We make it a saying.  Like “fetch”.)



Today’s Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! Pixture Du Jour Au Jus (Gesundheit) comes to Us courtesy of The Lovely And Talented AstroGeek, to whom you should all pay a visit.  We’ll wait right here till you get back. http://agskylab.blogspot.com/



Here, meanwhile, from The Don’t Say We Never Gave You Nothing Department, for those of Our Gentle Readers who are of a more viZZZual persuasion, are the twelve signs of the zodiac represented by animated gifs.  We Our Own Self Personally are particularly enamored of Capricorn.  (It is Safe For Work.):




You’re welcome.



In other news, We will be making meatballs today.  Because the Ack-A-Me had a sale,  and We are an old Italian grandmother.  It is Our goal to be able to create an impromptu dinner of spaghetti, meatballs, and gravy at a moment’s notice, should the Italian Olympic Men’s Swim Team drop by unexpectedly for carbo loading.



(Is it just Us, or is “Carbo Loading” a great name for a fat drag queen?   Just Us? Alrighty then.)



So meanwhile, Ricky Martin wants Us all to know that he used to drink five cups of coffee a day, and now only drinks two.  This is why We have a Twatter account:  to keep Us aware that it is every bit as boring to be Ricky Martin as it is to be Us.  Of course, Ricky Martin can still look in the mirror and see Ricky Martin, while We look in the mirror and see…whatever this is.  So there’s that.



(That was the Ricky Martin piece We were talking about earlier.  Just in case you dozed off.)



Speaking of Ricky Martin jerking off while looking at himself in the mirror,  here is the link with which you will share Our new Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope:  Aries video with your friends, enemies, frenemies, enemists, and frenulums:




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, Rosie Starfish, for comparison:





And now, in case you thought things couldn’t get any more boring, here is Kelli’s HorrorScope:



Well, how silly are We!  (Don’t answer that.)  We made reference earlier to a video being Safe For Work, but who on earth would be in the office on Wayne Newton’s birthday?



Keep on moving forward!   (Also, keep on keeping on!  Also also, keep on truckin’!  Or fuckin’.  One of those.)



It’s one of those days (Innit though?)



that’s easy to write off if you feel lazy or depressed, (The sun is shining, and We are not feeling depressed.  We are also not feeling lazy…as We mentioned earlier, later on, We shall be rolling Our meat into balls.)



(What?)



 but you should be able to find a spark within yourself that keeps you on track and energized.  (“On CRACK and energized” would be a much more phitting phrase, no?)



 People will be giving you some wonderful feedback today (Keep your fuckin’ static to yourselves, people.)



 — but will you be able to set your ego aside long enough to listen to it without getting defensive?  (Probably.  We are generally too busy being offensive to be defensive.)




 What they’re going to tell you comes from a genuine, compassionate place (Madagascar?)




— they’re not just trying to find flaws to pick on!  (Flaws? FLAWS?!?  Just because We look in Our mirror and don’t see Ricky Martin…)




(Parenthetically (hence the brand new set of parentheses), We just looked in Our mirror and saw Martin Landau’s ass.  Unfortunately for Us, We were looking at Our face at the time.)



They have faith in you, (Good.  If We’re a religion, We don’t have to pay any taxes.  Also, We get hot and cold running wine, and all the altar boys We can molest.)




which is why they think you can do better.  (Now watch Us fool them by doing worse!)




You are capable of amazing things and they know it! (We are a veritable Amazing Grace Slick.)




(We have no idea what that meant.)




The worst mistake you can make today is to limit yourself.  (We hate to quibble with such a dire prediction, but wouldn’t it be just slightly worse to use Drano™ instead of Cremora™?)




Take command of your romantic possibilities and you’ll find (That you’re in charge of absolutely nothing?)



that even the wildest schemes have a way of falling into place.  (If they fall into place, they really aren’t all that wild, are they?  Well, ARE THEY?)



Taking off to Tahiti to meet the love of your life on a whim?  (We are thinking that, if We were (subjunctively) going to Tahiti, We’d go on a plane, but whatevs.)




Absolutely not a problem! (There are so many problems in that sentence, it’s a problem to try to list them all.)




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.
                                                                                                                                     

Monday, December 24, 2012

May your daze be Mary




 

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! for JustAnotherManginaMonday, December 24, 2012. Happy Christmas Eve Was Weak I Can See Your Dirty Pillows.  We trust that all of your stockings are well-hung by the chimbley with Cher, whatever that may mean.  We also suspect that no one is reading this, so We shan’t tarry, dawdle, fold, spindle, or masturbate.

Check out Our new Time of the Month Horoscope: CAPRICORN  video above.  And, in the holiday spirit of giving, use this link to share it with your friends:  http://youtu.be/m3Aa_X_HoVM

 

Meanwhile, this just in from Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! correspondent, Helen Keller:


Was craving Pringles so bad but I accidentally just bought tennis balls. #FML


Just woke up cause I fell off my bed. Now I can't find it. This is gonna be a long night...


I don't even go to bed early on Christmas Eve. Santa just rolls right in and drops the shit off and I have no idea what's going on.

And heeeeeere’s the HorrorScope:

As if Christmas Eve weren’t already exciting enough, Happy Ricky Martin’s Birthday, everybody!

 

Your core values are on display today (Also, Our whore values.  Which are relatively low, considering We can’t even give it away.)

 

 — which could be weird, depending on where you are. (The expression you seek is “sweating like a whore in church”.  You’re welcome.)

 

 If you have to make a stink over something that others don’t care about, that’s hard — but crucial!  (Somehow, the phrase “a crucial stink” doesn’t inspire tidings of comfort  and joy.)

 

 Are you losing your patience with someone?  (No.  We are an Aries, so We had no patience to begin with.  Although, Kelli, the fact that you are an AssHat is particularly annoying today.)

 

If it seems like they can’t listen to reason, they may have made up their mind already.  (If they’ve made up their mind, that means it’s imaginary.)

 

Maybe they refuse to see any alternatives. (Alternatively, maybe they’re stupid.)

 

 If you feel like you’ve hit a brick wall, then step back and stop hitting your head against it!  (Are We alone in being dazzled by the staggering brilliance of this advice?)

 

(We’re pretty sure We’ve been completely alone in here for days, what with no one even bothering to ask Us who the hell Greg Biffle was yesterday.  (If We were (subjunctively) dawdling or tarrying, We might pause to invent a joke in which We beg to differ with Greg Biffle. Lucky for you, We’re not.)))

 

Learn when enough is enough. (Also,  learn not to beg to differ with Greg Biffle while paying wiffle ball.)

 

(Oh, shut up.)

 

(Micro$oft Weird™ autocorrected “wiffle ball” to “waffle ball”.  Is waffle ball even a thing?)

 

If you can’t deal with someone, you need to just work around them or avoid them altogether.  (Why is having them killed suddenly not an option?)

 

A relaxed attitude looks perfect on you today. (As does Our Christmas muu-muu.)

 

Your deep hotness has got a smoother edge, and while you still need to go after your desires, you need to start doing it in a more laid-back way.  (You had Us at “your deep hotness”.)

 

 

(You’re 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.

 

 

 

Monday, March 5, 2012

Livin’ la Vida Loca




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for JustAPrayingMantisMonday, March 5, 2012.  Happy birthday to Rene, who turns twenty-four today.  Also, happy birthday to Steve, who also turns twenty-four today. Also also, happy birthday to Tom, who also also turns twenty-four today.  Goodness, that’s a lot of twenty-fours.  If We figgered that all out in dog years, We would probably have to lie down.

Meanwhile, it has come to Our attention that, due to the various and sundry modes of WorldWideInterWebNetz information consumption, some of you are not being made aware of Our Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope  companion video pieces. If, beneath today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Leave The Driving To Us you do NOT see a still from Our video, in which We are on the very verge of looking down Miss Justin Bieber’s pants to see his penis (the question before Us is where’s his clitoris), you may be one of the afflicted.  Please proceed directly to Our YouTube channel, where a whole new world awaits you: https://www.youtube.com/user/RickinPhilly?feature=mhee

The rest of you, meanwhile, will be ecstatic to learn that the man who fell into the upholstery machine is completely recovered.

Meanwhile, despite the fact that poor Justin’s birthday is now Last Week’s News, won’t you please share his latest video with your friends?  http://youtu.be/qqEjYYBFxG4  Seriously.  The poor thing is still upset that We’re the only One who’s seen his penis.

In other news,  please get your tickets now for The Real HouseWives of South Philly March Into Madness!, 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

Thank you.
Now, We know what you’re thinking. (Oh, yes, We do; We’re psychic.)  You are thinking how amazing We are that We did an homage to Dr. Seuss in Friday’s e-pissode, when We didn’t even realize that it was his birthday.  And you are quite right:  We ARE amazing!  Here’s a little instant replay, for those who may have missed it the first time, or for those who want to savor it again, much like a cow chewing its cud:

(This poem was occasioned by this observation: “Are We the only One who finds it peculiar that, in certain instances, “scoop” and “poop” mean exactly the same thing?”)

We shall not poop

Into your soup

Nor scoop Our poop

Onto your stoop

 

We shall not poop

While Hula-Hoop-

-Ing on a sloop

With Betty Boop

 

We promise not to scoop Our poop

Into your mother’s chicken coop,

Onto your brother’s Boy Scout troop,

Or on your Aunt Jane’s last Froot Loop™.

 

No pooped-in soup,

No scooped-on stoop,

No Hula-Hoop poop,

Or Betty Boop scoop.

 

This poem’s become an endless loop,

So We might cut off your head and shit down your neck.

 

And now, Charlene Tilton jumps out of Justin Bieber’s leftover birthday cake.  Everyone concerned is too embarrassed to comment.  Alternatively, the HorrorScope:

 

You’re heating up everywhere you go today — it’s like your personality is a bright light! (More like We are a one-woman hot flash, but whatevs.)

 

Just keep up the good work and enjoy the warm social relations that are sure to develop as you move.  (Surely “warm social relations” is a euphemism for something?)

 

An excess of masculine energy will play a major part in your day, (From your lips to God’s executive assistant’s voicemail.)

 

so you might want to devise a plan for dealing with testosterone-fueled confrontation, (What?  There’s a flaw in Our “grab it by the balls” plan?)

 

whether that plan involves stepping up to or stepping back from the contest.  (That sounds like a whole lotta stepping with no fetchit.)

 

A domineering male may try to intimidate a group into doing what he wants.  (So wait…are We on a reality television show, or what?)

 

Poking a few holes in his bluster may prove to be irresistible — and the results will be hilarious. (That would seem to depend entirely on how One defines “bluster”.)

 

Sometimes, the people who look the strongest physically are the weakest mentally.  (Plus, if they’re on steroids, they have really tiny balls.)

 

You’re online profile is about as interesting as a book of Latin grammar.  (We are now pixturing Ricky Martin conjugating verbs.  Somehow, that works for Us.)

 

Try a different approach: create a mini-memoir.  (Birth. Poop. Death.  (Howzzat?))

 

(Micro$oft Weird™ would like Us to consider revising Our mini-memoir, as “Birth.” and “Death.” are sentence fragments.  (“Poop.” is, of course, not a sentence fragment, as it is a verb (albeit NOT one We were pixturing Ricky Martin conjugating), and it is possible to have a complete sentence consisting only of a verb in which the subject is understood.  Of course, in most instances, such sentences are employing the verb as a command, which is a tad peculiar in the case of “Poop.”, but still.))

 

(Here endeth today’s grammar lesson, Spanx™ be to Dog.)

 

Provide date seekers with a glimpse of your real passions. (But don’t show fig seekers your raisins.)

 

(What?)

 

Talk about where you’ve been, (We’ve been to Paradise, but We’ve never been to We.)

 

what you collect, (Dust.)

 

and what you’ve accomplished.  (Does using “poop” as a command count?)

 

Dig deeper. (We’re gonna need a bigger shovel.)

 

 

 

 (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.