Hello, Ducks!
Starzina
Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Thursday, March
Twenty-Thursd, Twenty-Thursdteen. We
trust you have all recovered from all of yesterday’s Zonnique Pullins’s
Birthday celebrations, fetes, and extravaganzas. We know that We Our Own Self Personally are
wrung out like a wash rag (also strung out like a #hashtag, but that’s neither
here nor Nair™).
Meanwhile,
Our Google-O-Meter™ informs Us that We currently have more Gentle Readers in
Germany than We have in the Youessivay.
Mayhaps We shall have to stop referring to zem as “Gentle”. We have no idea what ziss means, but We shall
take fame any way We can get it.
(Although preferably with a side of Fortune.)
Despite the fact that it is morning, We would
really appreciate it if Our computer’s speakers stopped making Rice Krispies™
noises. KThxBye.
In other news, from The Moral Of The Story
Department, back before written history began, when We had not yet turned twenty-four,
and these horoscopes were but a glimmer in Uranus, We appeared in a show. (This is not, of course, the news. We are getting to the news.) Last night, We met the producer of the show
We are currently directing, whom We thought We knew only from the
WorldWideInterWebNetz. He informed Us
that he had seen the aforementioned show back in The Dark Ages, which
apparently played around Valentine’s Day, and was so moved by Our performance
that he and his now-husband said “I love you” to each other for the first time
afterwards. Which just goes to show, you
never know who is being affected by the crap you do in public.
And which also goes to prove The Butterfly
Effect, which, for those of Our Gentle Readers who are NOT Zen Buddhists (We’re
guessing, for example, a number of ze German folks), We shall now elaborate
upon. The Butterfly Effect explicitly
states that, when a butterfly flaps its wings in China, it can cause Ashton
Kutcher’s pants to fall off in the Youessivay.
We’re so glad We were able to clear that up
for you. Also, you’re welcome.
Our speakers, meanwhile, are driving Us mad. Doesn’t some kind, technically-abled Gentle
Reader want to bring his plumber’s crack over to OurHouseWhereWeLive and tend
to Our equipment?
What?
Speaking of the show We’re directing, here is the SitOnOurFaceBook event where you
can find out all about it, (it opens this very evening, by the way) and say
you’re coming:
And, because it occurs to Us that there
are some non-SitOnOurFaceBook users amongst Our Gentle Readers, here is a link
to the actual theatre company where the same information can be obtained:
How many of you are still stuck on “glimmer
in Uranus”?
Because We Are Woman, Hear Us Roar, Our Ass
Is Too Fat To Ignore, (and because We do not now, and, the way things are
going, most likely will not ever, have A Man Around The House), We found the
switch with which to shut off Our computer’s speakers. This does not, of course, solve Our problem,
and will certainly have a negative impact on Our enjoyment of
WorldWideInterWebNetzian pornography, but it may prevent Us from losing what
passes for Our mind in the next ten minutes.
Here,
meanwhile, is the link with which you would share Our new Aryan…ooops, Aries video with your friends,
enemies, frenemies, enemists, and frenulums, if you were so inclined: http://youtu.be/saxvaR85vYU
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:
Because
We copy a great deal of these e-pisstles over from one day to the next, We
never know exactly how many words We create in a day. We really need to figger that out. Because, now that it is an asstromalogical
New Year, We may need to channel said words in a new direction.
And now, in case you thought things couldn’t
get worse, here is Kelli’s HorrorScope:
Oh, see, now. Yesterday, Zonnique Pullins’s
birthday, and today Diggy Simmons’s?
Why, if We keep celebrating at this rate, We’ll be dead by the weekend!
Though you may not feel that you’re at your
best, (You’re never fully dressed without argyle.)
(What?)
you can still get started on something that
turns out to be really great for you. (It occurs to Us that We have no date for Our
opening. Yay, Us.)
Just make sure that you don’t let yourself
get boxed in! (Boxed? We couldn’t even cope with being
wet-paper-bagged.)
A friend who has been under a lot of pressure
needs some relief, and you could be the one to give it to them. (Because We?
Are a slut like that.)
If they live far away, ask them to come visit
you for a while (Oddly enough, We shall be having that very conversation later
this very day.)
(We just accidentally typed “be having” as “behaving”. And Micro$oft Weird™ let Us. It’s anarchy, We tellz ya!)
— a change of scenery might be just the
ticket to get them feeling perky again. (We would love to feel his perky,
ThankYouVeryMuch.)
If
they live in your neck of the woods, then make a date with them. (Maybe it’s just Us…okay, PROBABLY it’s just
Us, but necking in the woods sounds like a pretty good date already.)
Just the two of you. (No sentence without verb. AssHat.)
(Heh.
See what We did there?)
(So did
Helen Keller.)
It’s time to reacquaint yourself with a
person you’ve known for so long. (No doubt a reference to the old Billy Idol
song, “Dancing With Myself”.)
You don’t know them nearly as well as you
think you do. (We don’t know much, ‘cause
We don’t get out much.)
Someone close has a definite opinion about
your love life, (Wait…We have a love life?!?)
but only you can determine its relevance. (Wait…We
have relevance?!?)
(We. Have. Relevance. If you ain’t. Got. Relevance. You can never ever Jonathan Groff.)
(Fucking Tourettes.)
Rather than going ape, (Does anyone actually say “go ape”
anymore? And, if so, who?)
thank them for their input (Do We get his “input”
after We feel his perky?)
and direct them to your boundaries.(Was that
a fat joke?)
(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.
