Hello, Ducks!
Starzina
Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherMonkFishMonday, May 13, 2013.
Happy Birthday to David, and Jeremy, and Patrick, each of whom turns
twenty-four today, for a grand total of seventy-two. (Seventy-two WHAT, We have no idea.) Also, Happy Belated Birthday to Christine,
who turned twenty-four over the weekend.
Friday’s
e-pissode was clearly one of those “Why do We bother?” days, as alerts We sent
out to its existence were resoundingly ignored in hostile droves. And it was Birute Galdikas’s’ birthday and
everything! Perhaps people were just too
busy baking Biruite Galdikas’s birthday cakes to pay attention. In case that is the case Casey Kasem, here is
a not-so-instant replay of Our Birute Galdikas Birthday Tribute. You’re welcome.
Our
celebrity birthday website, meanwhile, would like Us to know that it is Birute
Galdikas’s birthday. Ms. Galdikas, it would have Us know, in case Our
memories were bumfuzzled (third time! That word is OURS!), “worked
closely with the orangutans of Indonesian Borneo in their natural habitat for
almost four decades”. Now, of course, We all
remember fondly the early works of The Orangutans of Indonesian Borneo,
particularly their debut album, We’re
the Orangutans of Indonesian Borneo, their sophomore album, Who You Callin’ Orangutans
of Indonesian Borneo?, and
their seminal third and fourth albums, You Rang? Born, Yo and Up Against the Wall, You
Indonesian Motherfucker. Alas, this early promise was never to be fulfilled,
as the lead singer promptly embarked on an ill-advised solo career, and the
bass player married Yoko Ono’s gynecologist. Fortunately, following the
dark, dark disco period, and the nadir that was their Bond song, “My Dick Is Substantially
Larger Than Yours”, they
have been able to make a quasi-comeback as an ABBA cover band, and are
currently enjoying some success playing gay weddings in Indonesian Borneo.
So,
yeah, Happy Birthday, Birute Galdikas.
In
other news, We were tiptoeing through the tulips of Our archives this morning,
prior to performing preliminaries for a pending project (pee all over THAT,
onomatopee-ers), and it came to Our attention that, early next year, the Justin
Timberlake-Janet Jackson SuperBowl Intermission Wardrobe Malfunction Thingie
will have been TEN YEARS AGO. So there’s
that.
Speaking
of Our archives, you ARE aware that previous years of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!
can be obtained for low, low prices as e-books (no, E-REALLY) at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/epsingel
? Aren’t you?
We
feared, meanwhile, that after such a disastrous Friday, and a Saturday on which
Our weekend seemed determined to take a turn for the perverse worse, that We
were going to have to come in here and complain to all y’all this morning. Not that We’re not a Highly-Trained
Professional Complaining expert and all, but, fortunately, We seem to have been
able to turn chicken shit into chicken salad.
At least temporarily.
To
further repeat Ourselves, however, Our Friday alert was greeted with such a
flurry of “DickSucking KnobGobbler has left the conversation” doorslamming
(really…that’s how SitOnOurFaceBook signals that someone has left a
conversation) that We have no idea who
actually was alerted by it and remained in the conversation, albeit ignoring
Us all the while. So, if perchance they
are still within the sound of Our voice out where Mary Tyler Moore threw up her
hat, or in case Our not-so-far-flung-and-who-knows-how-well-hung Eye-talian boi
is still in da house, here’s this colorful manifesto:
Speaking of speaking
of things of which We have recently spoken, We just came across the “speaking
of” from Our most recent e-pisstle, to wit:
“Speaking of twenty-four-year-old Eye-talian boys who
pole-dance in Our dreams…”
…which caused Us to
reflect, as much as One whose brains are as bumfuzzled as Ours canreflect, without a mirror or a reflecting pool, on the fact that
the people spoken of in Our recent “speaking ofs” have all been real live
people, and yet, not a one of them has responded to being spoken of. (If
that sentence were (subjunctively) in German, it would not end in a
preposition, because German would no doubt have a word for “ofspoken”.
Because Germans are efficient like that.)
And so, in an effort
to increase two-way communication here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!, here is a
review of some recent ofspokens, to give them all another chance to see
themselves in print:
Speaking
of twenty-four-year-old Eye-talian boys who pole-dance in Our dreams,
Speaking
of “apparently, str8 bois will NOT send you random pictures of their junk, even
if said pictures cannot possibly be traced back to them”,
Speaking
of “on Tuesday there was a naked guy from Minnesota where Mary Tyler Moore
threw up her hat, on Wednesday there was a G-stringed stripper from Jersey,
meanwhile, did We mention the guitar player?”
Speaking
of woodchuck cock in a Jersey stripper’s G-string (is Our ability to develop a
theme uncanny, or what? (Who said, “Or what?”) (also, is it just Us, or
is “uncanny” one of those words that sounds like it should mean something else
entirely?)),
Speaking
of “Capital One™: what’s in YOUR codpiece?”, We are still awaiting with bated
breath (which, as We have explained many times before, is different than baited
breath, because, eeeeuuuuwwww) photographs of codpiece contents from
Minnesota. To quote historically from yesterday:
“And
now, having spent a full twenty-four hours reflecting upon Our naked
Minnesotan, One wonders if it isn’t, in fact, a little cold in Minnesota to be
naked. Shrinkage issues, and whatnot. Perhaps naked Minnesotan
experts will weigh in on this. Hopefully with photographic evidence.”
Speaking
of “Is that the Virgin Mary in your Speedo™, or are you just happy to see Us?”,
Speaking
of who do We need to blow to get some dick up in here, as you can see above, We
have released Our new Starzina’s Time of the
Month Horoscope: Taurus video. Here is the
link with which you will share it 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 Taurus video for comparison:
And
now the HorrorScopes:
Just
when We thought nothing could top Birute Galdikas’s birthday, today? Is Bea Arthur’s birthday! It is also the birthday of Our future
ex-husband, Hunter Parrish.
Your
emotional surroundings are somewhat more difficult than usual — which may
provoke some serious reactions in you! (Nanny nanny poo poo.)
(What?
Not serious enough?)
That’s
okay, though, because sometimes honesty really is the best policy. (But where does amnesty fit in? Not to mention hoamnesty. And amhonesty.)
(Cunning
linguistics…it’s like aerobics, except for your tongue.)
(Okay,
is anyone else now imagining their tongue wearing Spandex™ tights and an
athletic supporter? Just Us? Alrighty, then.)
You
might find that good energy is a bit hard to come by, today — everyone seems to
be grumpy (Which is silly of them, when there are six other perfectly good
dwarves they could be. If they’re into
that sort of thing.)
or
holding a grudge that they just won’t let go of. (There’s really no other verb
that pairs with “grudge”, is there?
Pretty much the only thing anyone does with a grudge is hold it. Which is (A.) extremely predictable, and (2.)
makes for an amazingly dull Kenny Rogers lyric.)
(We’ll
pause here, to give those of you for whom that last joke was too e-soteric a
chance to up-catch.)
Your
first urge might be to try and cheer them up, but you should resist it. (Actually,
Our first urge was to take a blowtorch to their crotchal areas. Because that?
Would cheer Us up.)
Not
only will trying to affect the moods of other people be a total waste of your
time, it’s really none of your business. (Wow.
Way to bring down the room with a cesspool full of negativity.)
Just
focus on keeping yourself bright and cheerful. (We shall commence to singing “Found A Peanut” in three, two, one…)
And
the best way to ensure that is to keep your distance from the people who are in
bad moods. (Alternatively, you could
walk a mile in their shoes. Because
then, you’re a mile away, and you’ve got their shoes.)
While
this may not end up as one of your favorite days ever to grace your love life, (What
was your first clue?)
you
do have a deep, intuitive sense of the situation. (Why is it always a
situation? Why can it never be a
liedownuation?)
Work
it hard if you want to pick up some fresh understanding. (We heard that you get
a discount if you pick up some peace and love with that. (No one, however, will find it funny.))
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.
