She works hard for the money

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for ThurzDee, May 17, 2012.  We are considerably less than inspired this morning, but We already played hooker…er, hooky ONE day this week, so We daren’t do it again.  Because that would be the second daren’t and, as every Bewitched aficionado knows, the first daren’t was the definitive one.

See?

Meanwhile, in Our ongoing pursuit of making your life seem better by comparison to Ours, We just spent two minutes of Our life trying to remember Dick York’s name.  (It was “Dick York”, just so you know.)  THERE’S a brain cell We’ll never get back.

If there should perchance be any sketch class students in here, this would be proof of the concept that you are only a writer if you are writing.  It would also, unfortunately, seem germane to the theory of a thousand monkeys flinging poo at a thousand typewriters, which results in a thousand Adam Sandler movie scripts and the lyrics to the latest McDonna album.

So far, We have said “daren’t”, “aficionado”, and “germane”.  If this were (subjunctively) a Word-A-Day calendar, it would already be Tuesday.  And, thus, Belgium.

Sigh.

Perhaps if We go and find a really scintillating (Wednesday) Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Paul Lynde For The Block, We shall become inspired.  (Lest you think that was more random poo-flinging, when We were attempting to remember Dick York’s name (which, you will recall, was “Dick York”), the name that kept popping into Our head to confuse Us was Larry Tate.  Which was, of course, Dick York’s character’s boss’s name.  And which led Us, for some reason, to viZZZualize Uncle Arthur.  Which is how We got to Paul Lynde.  (Step right up for the Duck Boat tour of the windmills of Our mind.))

Wait, what?  Donna Summer died?

Here’s  the HorrorScope:

Your cultural instincts are flawless today, (Of course they are.  We ate Mexican last night.  (We had to…he fell off his bicycle.))

(On CBS this fall:  The Amazing Racist.)

so sniff out the next big thing (Yowza.)

before anyone else can get to it. (You are probably wondering how We got from “daren’t”, “aficionado”, and “germane” to “yowza”.  What can We say…We have a wacky vernacular.)

You may find that your energy is inexhaustible, too, (Or, ya know, not.)

 so enjoy the heady feeling!  (We would very much enjoy enjoying some “heady feeling”, but We are suspecting that would require a partner.)

Your lukewarm ambition (It will come as a surprise to many of you that “Lukewarm Ambition” was the Mark Hamill character’s name in early drafts of Star Trek Wars.  (His father’s name was James Spader.))

(Watch out for flying poo.)

is starting to get a little hotter right now, (Well, yeah.  We rubbed two Boy Scouts together and made a fire.)

thanks to the inspiring progress a friend or coworker has made. (Mmm-hmm.  ‘Cause other people’s success never makes Us want to just go back to bed.)

But before you head up that corporate ladder, you have to figure out what you’ll do once you get up to the top. (Poop on the passersby.  Duh.)

You need to plan your path. (And alliterate, also.)

Hold off making any big moves today. (Didn’t she just say We were making it to the top of the ladder?  Make up what passes for your mind, AssHat.)

You’re getting some signals about what direction to take with your love life, so pay attention.  (Could We get some of that “heady feeling”?)

 Meanwhile, , as we teeter just this side of madness, do please help Us out by going to watch Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: Taurus video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlqQw4TppqY  In fact, go to Our YouTube channel and watch ALL of Our damn videos:  http://www.youtube.com/user/RickinPhilly?feature=mhee Hey, we’re cracking up; it’s the least you can do.

Speaking of fillums, here, because its brilliance cannot be overstated, is the slogan for Our latest fillum:  Uranus is Our Rosebud.

(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.

Your looks are laughable, unphotographable

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for IfIt’sTuesdayThisMustBeBelching, February 14, 2012.  It has come to Our attention that, due to Our absence from The City Of Brotherly Love Handles and the intervening weekend, We have been completely remiss in not wishing a very happy twenty-fourth birthday to Abraham Lincoln, hence today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Leave The Driving To Us.

(Yes, We are aware that “today’s…Pixture Du Jour” is redundant.  We are also aware that “Jus” does not rhyme with “Us”.  We are further aware that fuck you.)

Those of you who know Us personally and are somewhat familiar with Our personal habits and routines will be shocked-We-tell-you-shocked to hear that, since Our return, We have not so much as set foot in the Ack-A-Me.  Saturday and Sunday We ate Things That Were Found In Our Freezer for $500, Alex (hey, We hadda eat ‘em before CSI identified ‘em), and yesterday Our Sistah Ovella and We were The Ladies Who Lunch in Souf Philly.  Speaking of which, We have the most amazing new place to go out to lunch.  No, We’re not gonna tell you, We’re gonna make you take Us there.  Trust Us, if you wanna be as out to lunch as We are, you will love it.

Speaking of Oscars™, please share Our Aquarius fillum with your friends:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovOtlxcnC50

(How was THAT for a goddamn segue?)

Also check out the other videos: http://www.youtube.com/user/RickinPhilly?feature=mhee

You are no doubt wondering, especially if you are a naked skimmer of long standing (and if you are a naked skimmer, you should be standing, lest you leave butt prints on the chair (also, if you are THE naked skimmer who We always picture when We say “naked skimmer”, you should drop a person a line)), when We are going to begin Our annual screed about the dreaded VD.  Well, having reviewed last year’s screed, We found that We would be hard-pressed to improve upon it, so here it is:

(Before We begin, We would like to alert Erix Daily Horoscope scholars, and students of the future who may be writing dissertations on these e-pisstles that, for some reason, The Royal We is not employed in the following e-pissode.  Make of that what you will.)

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monday, February 14, 2011.  Happy VD to One and All, Monte Hall, All and Sundry, and Solomon Grundy.  May all your chancres be pustulent, and may all your pustules be chancrous.  May your pubic lice dance a conga line around your anal warts as your Chlamydia sing the Hallelujah Chorus in B Flat Minor.  May it burn both when you pee, and when you are peed upon.

Who says I can’t get into the holiday spirit?  Those were some LOVELY VD sentiments, if I do say so myself.  Why I don’t have a jawb writing Hallmark™ cards, I haven’t got any idea.

I did, of course, have to pause in mid-poetic licentiousness to Google “Who the fu(k is Solomon Grundy?” on Wikipedia.  Then, of course, I was sorry I asked.

Micro$oft Weird™ is suggesting that I might like to end the first paragraph with a question mark, as in “…when you are peed upon?”  I think it is confusing “when you are peed upon” with “pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon™?”, which is actually an entirely different fetish into which we shall most assuredly not be delving here.

If you focus all of your attention on the fact that I actually just used the word “delving”, you will probably be able to drive all those “Dirty Sanchez” thoughts right out of your head.  You’re welcome.

I really shouldn’t complain so about VD.  I did, at least, get my annual VD card from Johnny Depp.    Why he can’t be a little more attentive the OTHER three hundred and sixty-four days of the year is a mystery to me. (Is it just me, or, when one says “VD card” instead of spelling it out, doesn’t it sound like it should come from a clinic, and contain phrases like “one of your sexual partners who wishes to remain anonymous” and “please report for blood testing”?)

In other news, did any of YouPeople see the Leonardo DiCaprio fillum Inception? Confusing, no?  Imagine how much MORE confusing if you fell asleep for a little while in the middle, and had a nightmare while you were out, then woke up and watched the rest of the movie without having a clue as to what you’d missed.  I would have tried to go back and figger it all out, but Leonardo didn’t so much send a VD card this year.

I wonder if that little mid-movie nappy-poo is the reason I found myself Up An Adam (heh) at the crack of ass this morning? (I was up SO early, in fact, that when I typed “Up An Adam” just now, I couldn’t think of a single celebrity named Adam.  So I went to Google “Adam” on Wikipedia and see what came up, but I got distracted Googling “Leonardo DiCaprio naked” instead.  When I finally got around to Googling “Adam”, the first hits were “Adam Sandler”, “Adam Lambert”, and a couple of other Adams I didn’t know from Adam.)

I’d better start the horoscope before this deteriorates any further.  Or before Himself gets out of bed and tries to “contribute”.  (Yeah, like THAT could happen.)

Happy VD! (Yes, she did actually use the words.  Yes, I edited it.  Because I Have That Power.)

Yes, it’s here. (By “here”, of course, she means “it burns where I pee”.)

Finally. (Finally the finale, sneaking through the alley with Sally.  Couldja start the fu(kin’ horoscope already, asshat?)

(Micro$oft Weird™ seems not to think that “asshat” is a word.  Apparently, Micro$oft Weird™ has never met Kelli the Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist).  It suggests that I might want to replace it with, amongst other things, “asphalt”.  Which is, oddly enough, NOT one of the things it suggests I might use to replace “assfart”  Which is a word I just made up.  As opposed to “asshat”. Which is, as we all know, a perfectly legitimate word, meaning wearing one’s ass as a hat, putting Uranus where your mouth is, and spewing forth shit into The Universe.)

Now, knowing you (Which you DON’T.)

— the most notorious of the three fire signs, all of whom are famous for procrastination (Dat’s me, da infamous rapper, Notorious Pee.)

— you need to get busy and get some shopping done. (Mmm-hmm.  Because nothing says “VD” like pushing a cart through the Ack-A-Me on Double Coupon Day.  How the hell did I get from “Leonardo DiCaprio naked”  to THIS?)

Okay, then, it’s time to kick it into gear. (Honey, if I start kicking it, I may not stop until I kick it into the middle of next week.)

Take a long lunch (It’s not even nine o’clock in the morning yet.  Lunch?)

and take this list along with you: at least one rose, a loving but absolutely not overly sappy card, and, if you feel it’s appropriate, a little gift — something that will let your sweetheart know how special they are. (VD…the gift that keeps on giving.)

That’s for starters. (And Beano™’s for farters.  What’s your point?)

The rest you can play by ear. (If I could play by ear, I’d have my own band.  Any idiot can blow the bass player.  (No, I have no idea what I’m talking about.  Why do you ask?))

You feel more productive than ever today (Gastrointestinally, at any rate.)

— but you may not have much choice on what you get done. (How ‘bout WHO I get done?  Can I at least choose that?)

 It’s one of those days when you are sure that there’s something still left to do. (So many men, so little time.)

 You haven’t tortured yourself (Why bother, when The Universe is so eager to do it for me?)

over that one particular ex in a while, (It’s so much easier to bury ‘em in the basement, now that I own a house.)

but right now it’s weighing heavily on your heart. (Not, of course, as heavily as the chainsaw weighed on theirs, but still…)

Now is the time to say good-bye. (So long, farewell, auf wiedersehn, fu(k off.)

(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.

Oh, We wish We were (subjunctively) an Oscar Meyer™ wiener

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for TootsiePop, January 24, 2012.  Probably not many of you are up and reading this today, as you probably have the day off from work.  It being Ernest Borgnine’s ninety-fifth birthday, and all. We Our Own Self Personally will be whipping (ooooh!) through today’s e-pistle at breakneck speed so We can get a cake into the oven.  (Which sounds for all the world like a euphemism, but isn’t. (Meretricious prevarication, yes; euphemism, no.))  One can only imagine the preparations underway at Charlene Tilton’s house…

Naturally, being An Inquiring Mind Who Wants To know (no, really; Who wants to know?), We just felt compelled to Six-Degrees-Of-Kevin-Bacon Mister Borgnine and Ms. Tilton.  Turns out, they each have a Bacon number of TWO.  (You have a Bacon Number of TWO if you’ve been in a movie with someone who’s been in a movie with Kevin Bacon.  (You have a Bacon Number of ONE if you’ve been in a movie with Kevin Bacon your own self. (You have a Bacon Number of ZERO if you actually ARE Kevin Bacon.  Most people do not have Bacon Numbers of ZERO.)))

They also each have a reference number of TWO with regard to each other; that is, they have been in a movie with someone who has been in a movie with the other one, but have never been in the same movie together. (Many of you are no doubt mentally reviewing Ms. Tilton’s oeuvre, attempting to imagine her in a movie with ANYONE.  Apparently, you have never seen Problem Child 2.)

(All statistics in the preceding courtesy of http://oracleofbacon.org/.)

So, aspiring Hollywood screenwriters, the clock is ticking (SERIOUSLY ticking, in Mister Borgnine’s case)…this year’s Oscar™ nominees having just been announced, let’s see who can get a cinematic project  to the big screen in time for next year’s awards, starring Ernest Borgnine and Charlene Tilton.  With Adam Sandler as The Beaver.

Speaking of Oscars™, share Our fillum with your friends:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovOtlxcnC50

(How was THAT for a goddamn segue?)

Also check out the other videos: http://www.youtube.com/user/RickinPhilly?feature=mhee

Meanwhile, We’ve got to be e-pistling along…Ernest Borgnine’s cake isn’t going to bake itself.  (That sounded like a euphemism too.  We think We’re gonna be sick.)  Heeeeere’s the HorrorScope:

Your goals are lofty — but that doesn’t mean they’re out of reach!  (Well, they are if they’re in the loft.  Because We don’t have a loft.  Duh.)

If anything, you may find yourself quite a bit closer to them by the end of the day, if your mental energy has any say!  (Yay, hooray!  Nanette Fabray!  (Kelli is apparently a poet, but she is unaware of it.))

It always pays to plan ahead — an upcoming journey or event will be much more enjoyable if you take a little bit of time to make sure you know where you’re going, how you’re going to get there, and what you’ll do once you arrive. (Party pooper.  (Where does that expression come from, anyway?  Do people actually go to parties and poop?  Did that used to be a thing, like back before wife-swapping and beer pong? (The WorldWideInterWebNetz are not helping Us sort this conundrum, although they have informed Us that the first recorded use of the phrase was in 1954.  It was the Eisenhower administration, college students were swallowing goldfish and cramming themselves into phone booths…One can well imagine that taking a poop in the middle of a party was all the rage.)))

 It will be fun figuring out the logistics of this outing, and after a few minutes online you’ll discover a neat option that you had never considered before. (Did she say “neat”?  What’s next, “keen”?  “Swell”?  “Ginchy”?)

If you are traveling with someone else, contact them as soon as you can to share your findings.  (If We were (subjunctively) travelling with someone else, wouldn’t they be right with Us?  What the fuck are you talking abou, Kelli?)

 It’s easy to forget what a unique individual you are. (We are unique, just like everybody else.)

Life tends to pound you into nameless, faceless submission, but it’s time to exert your freedom and independence. (That’s it…We’re gonna go poop in the middle of a party.)

Do at least one thing that defines your personality.  (Hmmm…perhaps We shall poop Our name in the snow.)

 If it’s a piece of flair, flaunt it proudly. (If it’s  a piece of poop, fling it poopily.)

 

(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.