Showing posts with label Sandra Dee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sandra Dee. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for  Toonzday, October 30, 2012.  We noticed last Toonzday, but forgot to mention, mention, bring to your attention, the fact that, if One says “Toonzday” out loud, One sounds like a ‘tard.  G’head, try it, We’ll wait.

See?

Happy birthday, meanwhile, to Lindsay, who turns twenty-four today.
Here at Casa de CrotchRot, We are counting Our blessings.  But fear not…We shan’t let Our joy at having thus weathered the storm impact your reading pleasure by preventing Us from complaining.  For example, after completing yesterday’s e-pisstle, in which We believe We mentioned that We had half-assedly lugged half of the contents of Our dungeon…er, basement up to the first floor, We betook the other half of Our ass to Our dungeon…er, basement and finished the job.  Now, of course, said half-assed lugging must be reversed.

Some play on words involving “luggage” wants to be here.  Could someone do something about that for Us? KThxBye.

Micro$oft Weird™ continues to attempt to inform Us that “assedly” is not a word.  We continue not to care.  If you happen to have seen Our ass lately, you are well aware that half Our ass is big as a nun.

What?

In addition to the aforementioned lugging reversal, We must also accomplish those tasks We postponed, as they would be do-able during  power outage. One example being emptying the dishwasher. Although We can probably dispense with reading most of the Sunday paper.

However, before any of that, We are going to put on some clothes and get the FUCK out of this house, preferably by going somewhere where We can see other human beings.

Meanwhile, does anyone know the producers of Hoarders, or whatever that show is called?  Because before We lug all this crap back where it belongs, We could totes mcgotes film an e-pissode of that shizz in here.

(Yes, We DID just say “totes mcgotes”.  AND “shizz”.  Hey, YouPeople left Us here all alone.)

Here is the link with which you would share Our new Time of the Month Horoscope video with your friends, if you were (subjunctively) so inclined.  Like the plane. http://youtu.be/UiJLA4MRNNg .  Enjoy!


Meanwhile, the following is happening tomorrow, which is, as you know, Halloween.  We will see you there, won’t We?  :

The WaitStaff’s Halloween Match Game Extravaganza!

 The Real Housewives of South Philly join host Gene Rayburn and the usual assortment of ding-a-lings for a kreepy, kooky, mysterious and spooky, altogether ooky Halloween edition of The Match Game!

Wednesday, October 31 (that's Halloween!)  at 7:30.





Speaking of complete non sequiturs (as opposed, presumably, to the incomplete kind), here is last year’s Scorpio video to compare with this year’s (see above):


Here’s the HorrorScope:

Meanwhile, despite all the gloomy news, it is, after all, Ivanka Trump’s birthday.  So there’s that.

Patience may not be one of your strong suits, but you can still bust it out now and then when the situation demands it. (We?  Are an Aries.  ANY Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) who DIDN’T get her certification from the back of a matchbook cover by drawing Binky would know that We don’t HAVE any patience.   And any writer for whom Engrish is not her fourteenth language would know that patience is not something one “busts out”. Shut. Up. Kelli.)

See if you can just smile and nod when people propose inane ideas today.  (We had an idea once.  It died of loneliness.)

Today, make sure you have important conversations face to face — especially if they involve finances or major purchases!   (Why would We want to purchase a major, when We could save up and purchase a general?  Or, better yet, some privates.)

(That joke juts begged to be told.  BEGGED.  And if there’s one thing We can’t resist, it’s a begging joke.)

It could be so easy to just click your way to a new gadget online, (Wait…you mean there’s one newer than Gadget Goes Hawaiian?)

but it’s not wise. (Speaking of Gidget, We once played Chicklet in Psycho Beach Party. Now, We’d be lucky if they’d let Us play her mother.  Sigh.)

You need to be able to ask questions, (Why?)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

 read body language, (Lettuce hear your body talk, your body talk.)

and understand the tone of someone’s voice.  (Marcel Marceau, fer instance.)

You also have to consider that sometimes people use email or texting to back out of commitments without having to explain why. (Because people are lying liars who lie, THAT’S why.)

 You deserve explanations, so make sure you get them.  (How can it be a explanation, if it was never a planation in the first place?)

Go ahead and charm that new person (Do you dare Us?)

— little do they know that your seemingly casual line of inquiry is helping you find out who they are and what they think. (Also, We know what they did last summer. (Here’s a hint:  it was Ryan Phillippe.))

Their favorite movies can tell you everything. (Gadget Goes to Rome?)


(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.
                                                                                                                                    


Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee, lousy with virginity


Greetings, Eccentric Rectangles’ Improbable Concentricity---


Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, July 20, 2010 (You’re not still Mondaying, are you? Because that would be bad. Sort of a day late and a dollar short, you’d be. Like a day without sunshine. Which would be like, ya know, night. What a difference a day makes, what a day for a daydream, watch it, hey, I’m Doris Day.)


(All of which begs the question, if a person with Tourette’s syndrome has a stroke, how can ya tell?)

(Meanwhile, this is for Sara (hi, Sara!), and is much more politically correct than if they spelled out what the letters in the URL stand for. (Others besides Sara will enjoy it as well.) http://www.latfh.com/ )


(Christmas In July: Another Surprise Birthday Party For Jesus : Sunday, July 25th at 7PM at World CafĂ© Live and on Wednesday and Thursday, July 28th and 29th at 8PM at L’Etage. Tickets here: http://tickets.worldcafelive.com/eventperformances.asp?evt=3635 or here: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/117814 . If you haven’t gotten them already. And you haven’t. We KNOW. We see you when you’re sleeping, We know when you’re awake, We see you when you touch yourself, it looks like a p3nis only smaller.)


(Meanwhile, Our video is feeling unloved and may have to start touching itself. Won’t you help? (Not help it touch itself…get your minds out of the gutter! (Who would touch anybody with that facial hair anyway?)))





)


(Our Our-O-Scope)


That internal tension you're feeling could all too easily translate into an irresistible urge to: a) unceremoniously quit your job; (Too late.)


b) tell off that unappreciative fool you're seeing (Wait…We’re gonna tell Ourself off while We touch Ourself? Is it just Us (short answer: YES), or does that seem counterproductive?)


or c) move to Sri Lanka (Yeah. THAT could happen. Sari.)


(Heh. See what We did there?)


or anywhere you're sure no one knows your name. (Or at least can’t pronounce it properly.)


What to do? (More to the point, WHO to do?)


Try some exercise, mental or physical! (Try random interrobangs! (Which, for some reason, is seeming to Us like an excellent name for a breakfast cereal, preferably with little colored marshmallow bits. (Meanwhile “colored” in the phrase “little colored marshmallow bits” is just crying out for some politically incorrect racist joke, but We can’t think of one. Anybody?)))


The heart of the matter is this: your emotional rut is about to end. (Awwww…We do so enjoy emotionally rutting.)


Don't waste time worrying. (Also, don’t worry time wasting. However, you can watusi in your wigwam to your heart’s content.)


(How cute…Micro$oft Weird™ is pretending not to know that “watusi” is a word. Suck it, Micro$oft Weird™.)


Live for the moment -- and that intriguing, hot stranger across the room. (Strangers in the night, exchanging glances…wondering in the night, what in his pants is?)


You're extremely irritated, (Must be all that emotional rutting.)


and you want to make sure that the opposition knows about it. (Rut ‘em if they can’t take a joke.)


Fine -- but no ultimatums. (And not too many oxymorons, neither. (Micro$oft Weird™ will apparently allow you only one…it doesn’t recognize the plural as a word.))


Not when a plain old dirty look will do just fine. (How about a plain old Dirty Sanchez? (We’ll pause here while those who are too clean and pristine to know what that is, but yet still have inquiring minds, go Google it on Wikipedia. See how We spread knowledge and enlightenment? You’re welcome.))


That little thing you did months ago that you were sure no one would notice, much less remember? (Honey, We don’t remember the little thing We did YESTERDAY.)


Unfortunately, it's reared its ugly little head. (O RLY? How’d’ja like a Dirty Sanchez, Ugly Little Thing?)


What to do now? (Didn’t We already establish that the question is, WHO to do now? Try to keep up. @sshat.)


Duck. (Who you callin’ “Duck”, you silly goose?)


(Heh. Are We ten of the funniest people you know, or what? (Who said, “Or what”?))


(Your YOUR-O-Scopes):






http://www.humorscope.com




Ai-yi-yi-yi, I am the cowgrass bandito)