I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's. His hair was perfect.

 Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for Thursday, January 24, 2013.  Happy Birthday to Alex, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  But only for the third or fourth time.  Amateur.   Also, Happy Birthday to Rob, who also turns twenty-four today.  In Colorado.  Which, as far as We are able to ascertain, is one of those large square states that make it so difficult to get to The Left Coast.  He has had more practice at it.

In other news, apparently it continues to be cold outside, facilitating the annual Chicken Versus Egg discussion as to which is colder, a witch’s tit or a preacher’s prick.  All things considered, We’re going to have to go with the witch’s tit, which is frequently referred to as being encased in a brass brassiere, as opposed to the preacher’s prick, which, depending upon the denomination of said preacher, is frequently encased in altar boy.

One has, perforce, to wonder who exactly would wear a brass brassiere, no matter what the weather is like.

Hey, EVERY day can’t be National Pie Day.  Give Us a break.

We Our Own Self Personally shall be in the studio a little later, banging out (heh) the next e-pissode of Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscopes. Our hard-core fans (not that We’ve met any, but We hear they are both very nice) will have noticed A Missing E-Pissode…be assured that you will hear more on (heh…We said “moron”) this story as it develops.  (Hey, One can’t develop a cult following without A Missing E-Pissode.  (One also can’t develop a cult following if no one is paying attention, but that’s neither here nor Cher.)

Here is a little Aquarius fillum, for Our birthday Aquarians:

And here are the HorrorScopes:

Every day, We go to a website listing the famous birthdays du jour, where they list the top fifty celebrities having a birthday that day.  We swear to you, today We recognize fewer names on that list of fifty than on any day in recent memory.  That said, Happy Birthday to Ernest Borgnine, and to Warren Zevon.  (Do you still have birthdays when you’re dead?)  Also, Happy Birthday to Oral Roberts.  Who the hell names their baby “Oral”?  What the hell was the matter with those parents?  And whatever happened to his brother, Anal?

 You are feeling greater responsibility for your actions — not that you ever really shirk!  (Pity that that “ehrmehgerd” meme has gone The Way Of The Dodo, or we might be tempted to sing…

Shirk-shirk-shirk

Shirk-shirk-shirk

Shirk yer birdie, shirk yer birdie…

(Sorry.))

You just realize how great the consequences can be, so you are more likely to chill out and do what’s right.  (Dass Us.  Chillin’ like Bob Dylan, in Our brass brassiere.  Somebody throw another altar boy on the fire, wouldja?)

Any issues that pop up (POP!)

around the house today won’t be terribly dramatic, but they do require your undivided attention. (Which is good, because We’re terrible at fractions.   But at least We know what they are.  Unlike fractals, which We haven’t got any idea.)

They represent a real change you need to make in yourself.  (Well, you could change “yourself” to “yes, flour”, but that really wouldn’t make any sense.)

(What?)

If there is a conflict over cleanliness, perhaps you need to get rid of the clutter in the emotional parts of your life?  (Oh, Kelli, Kelli, Kelli, Kelli, Kelli…so many C-words, so little time.  If you can guess the C-word We’re thinking of right now, We’ll call you it when We see you next Tuesday.)

Throwing out garbage doesn’t only refer to potato peels, old newspapers, and egg shells! (Is it just Us, or is there something overwhelmingly existential and sad about the phrase “old newspapers”? Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

 Your negative feelings and self-doubt may need to get tossed to the curb, too!  (What, no recycling?)

Mothering becomes an issue. (Fine.  Here is a video in which Our mother appears.  And you wonder why We have issues:

It’s time to learn how to honor that mother energy and learn to nurture yourself. (Our titz are in a brass brassiere…how much self-nurturing can We do?)

 (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.

                                                                                                                                    

Roll Over Beethoven, dig these rhythm and blues.

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Wednesday, June 08, 2011.  Happy birthday to Candace, and Kenneth, and Nathan, all of whom, coincidentally, turn twenty-four today.  Back in The Day (Doris?  Morris?  Dennis?  Lynda George?), they might have been reading this, as We would have included it in Our SitOnMyFaceBook birthday wishes.  Now, however, We are including Our video instead.  The diapers, they are a changin’. (Bob Dylan obviously had a much better editor than We do.)

Speaking of Our video, We are shocked, SHOCKED, We tell you, not to have received a single inquiry regarding Our nail polish.  Which is called “Rock the Night Away”, since you didn’t ask.  You’re welcome.

We are all excited anew about Our video, as We shot another episode yesterday.  (Two episodes, actually, for those who love their behind-the-scenes glimpses of the inner workings of Erix Daily Horoscope.) And We have decided that what Our real life is missing is a director.  Also, that Our entire life should be a movie.  Except when We are pooping.

Said video, (Not the one We shot yesterday…We are not a miracle worker (WAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!)) as We are about to change the subject, is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBwdacfn2Vk

Also, Happy Hump Day to all the rest of you.  Especially the newbs…there may be some about-to-college-graduates in da house.  Of course, every day is Hump Day for that lot.  Because, as We all know, what does the in-the-know college graduate wear under the gown of his cap and gown?  A sophomore.

Meanwhile, We are knee-deep in preparations for La Festivale de Fringé.  (“Fringé”, in this instance, is, of course, pronounced “Frawn—ZHAY”.  Because We’re classy like that.)  Paperwork to be filled out, contracts to sign, checks to write, advertising to create, and all by Friday.  Of course, then they leave Us alone for two months, to create Our art.  It’s a good thing The Rapture was rescheduled for October instead of September; We’d hate to lose Our entire investment just because the world ended.

That being the sum total of what We know (and is it just Us, or is “sum total” a redundant repetition?), herewith Le Scope du Horreur (“Horreur”, in this instance, is, of course, pronounced “whore”.  Because We can do that.):

Today is all about service, (Coincidentally, We just got done saying “whore”.  How  ‘bout dat?)

and you need to make sure that you’re helping the right people. (It is Hump Day, after all.)

Customers at work are a good start, (WHORE!)

but you may also want to lend aid to the needy in your community.  (And what exactly are these “needy” gonna leave on the nightstand?  Just Our luck, We finally become a whore and don’t read the fine print in Our contract, and suddenly We’re a whore for the homeless.  Ya know, if ya give it away, you’re not a whore, you’re a slut.)

(We mistyped “whore” in that last bit, and Micro$oft Weird™ gave Us spelling suggestions.  None of which, oddly enough, was “whore”  The closest it got was “who’re”.  Which is, presumably, an Irish whore.)

 Don’t let anything go out the door without double-checking it first. (Don’t let the screen door hitcha where the Good Lord splitcha.)

Little details must be caught, (But enough about prostitution.  Let’s get off the whores, and give someone else a chance.)

(All We are say-ing…is give penis a chance.)

and you’re in the perfect frame of mind to catch them. (If you framed Our mind right now, you would see a naked albino riding a polar bear in a blizzard.)

Use your insightfulness (Ah, yes, Our insightfulness.  In the Land of the Blind, the one-eyed trouser snake is a much bigger surprise when it goes up the back of your dress.)

(You Yanks and your colorful sayings.)

 to stop friends or family members from taking things a little bit too far — a diplomatic word here or there will save them some embarrassment. (Alternatively, they could wind up on reality television.)

You’re a valuable part of any team you are in.  (Don’t’cha just hate people who say, “There’s no “I” in team”?  We like to tell them, “There’s no “I” in “asshole”, either…that’s all U.”)

To make sure you’re used as much as possible, (How’d We get back to whoring again?)

speak up and raise your hand. (It may be a long time since We got laid, but We’re pretty sure it’s got precious little to do with raising your hand.)

It’s party time — right? (Or at least Miller™ time.  But hopefully not Arthur Miller time.   Because that?  Would be boring.)

Though you may have a few hot options, (And more than a few Hot Pockets™…have you SEEN Our ass lately?)

you need to keep your life in balance today. (Was that a fat joke?)

Take it easy (“Easy” is Our middle name. Unfortunately, Our last name is “BakeOven”.)

(With those two words conjoined like that, was anyone else thinking “Roll over, BakeOven”?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.)

when it comes to love and try not to overdo it in any one direction. (Or on any one erection.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

*****************************************************************************  

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.

The animals, the animals, let’s talk dirty to the animals! Fu(k you, Mister Bunny!

                                        

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Wednesday, March 30, 2011.  Happy birthday to Aileen, who turns twenty-four today, and also to Mark, who also also turns twenty-four today.  Funny how that works.  It occurs to Us that We know ALMOST enough twenty-four –year-olds, including Us Our Own Self Personally, to take over the world.  But, having seen the world recently, We are smart enough not to bovver.

You may have noticed that We did not publish an installment of Erix Daily Horoscope yesterday.  (More likely, you skipped blithely through your day without giving Us a second thought, but We are giving you the petit four of the gout, you blithe day skipper you.)  We started to, We had picked a pixture (and also a peck of pickled peckers) but then We decided We couldn’t be arsed. A fit of ennui overcame Us, as fits of ennui are wont to do. (Lawdy, it sho’ am poetical in here this mawnin’.  We feel JUST like Emily Dickinson.  (Well, We feel like SOMEBODY’S dick in SOMEBODY’S son, but that’s neither here nor Barbara McNair.))

But today We’re back, from outer space, We just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face.  Oh, you ALWAYS look like that?  How sad for YOU.  And, lest We forget, Happy Hump Day!  May your humps be Mary and bright, and may all your humptresses be white.  (Now that We see it in black and white, as it (subjunctively) were, that song is a little bit racist, no?)

Wow, now We’re REALLY clutching at straws.  (Actually, We’re clutching Our pearls and clutching Our clutch purse, but clutching at straws is so much more litter-airy.  Especially when there’s a big ol’ line of cocaine at the end of the straw.  (Ooops…was that the outside voice?))

Is “clutching Our clutch purse” redundant?  And how odd does “clutch” look when you see it over and over again?

Don’t forget to make your reservations to laugh at Himself and his little friends on April Fool’s Day:  http://thewineroom.com/wineroom.cfm?t=main&p=main  .  We hear there’s All The Wine You Can Drink.  And trust Us, We’ve SEEN YouPeople drink.  Also, We hear that, in the spirit of April Fool’s Day, The Universe is planning to throw a big snowstorm in Our honor.  So there’s that.  Fu(king Universe.

Meanwhile, We enjoyed this so much the other day, We thought We’d do it again.  (And, apparently, again, and again, and again. (We figger We might as well amuse Our Own Self.)):

And so, without Maya Angelou:

Little ‘Scope, little ‘Scope of Horrors.
Bop sh-bop, you'll never stop the terror.
Little ‘Scope, little ‘Scope of Horrors.
No, oh, oh, no, oh, oh, no, oh, oh, no!

(Before Our Favorite Ass(tromalogical) Ho(roscopulist) begins ass(tromalogically) ho(roscopulating) (did that sound dirty to you?  Because it sounded dirty to Us, and We even knew what We were talking about),  We would like to point out that at no point during today’s ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulations) does herself point out that later today, We will be entering Mercury Retrograde.  Nor does she ever reveal what  Mercury Retrograde would translate to in Fahrenheit.  Ass hat.)

Today is a reflection of the past, (Misty water-colored memories of the way We were…(Please understand that you were supposed to hear that, not as performed by Barbra Streisand, but as performed by Gilda Radner as Lisa Loopner.  It will, consequently, be so funny you forget to laugh.))

but that doesn’t mean you’re trapped in a loop. (How can you tell it’s an endless loop…endless loop…endless loop….endless loopner…?)

If you don’t like where you are, (What’s not to like?  We’re in OurHovelWhereWeLive, wearing Our housecoat and Our bunny slippers, banging this keyboard like an old screen door while We sip coffee and eat bonbons.  Himself is snoring away in his bed while visions of sugarplums dance in his head, and who taught all those sugarplums to dance like that anyway?  It’s like the finale of fu(king A Chorus Line , but with sugarplums.  Jeebus.)

perform acts of kindness to improve your karmic balance. (If you’re REALLY kind to Us, later on We’ll show you Our karmic chameleon.)

Things should pick up soon!  (That’s right, Kelli!  Because, as soon as you put an exclamation point after a statement, it automatically makes it true! Instantly, emphatically true! And so, as god is Our witness, it must follow as the night the day, you!  Are! An Asshat!)

 Paying attention (We are too poor to pay attention.)

 to your most intriguing inner visions is crucial right now. (“Crucial” is for old fuddy-duddies. Us modern types say “clutch”.)

(Fuddy-Duddy was a bear.

Fuddy-Duddy had no hair.

‘Cause Fuddy-Duddy used some Nair™,

‘Specially on his derrière.)

(We feel another children’s book coming on.)

(Speaking of children’s books, in all seriousness, We would very much like to find an illustrator and self-publish Little Miss Prisspot.  Anybody?  Beuller?)

You have dreams, goals and ideas that deserve to be pulled into the real world — (We could really do without the giving birth metaphor…We don’t need your grabby hands up Our cooter, ThankYouVeryMuch.)

 people should know about what you are seeing when you close your eyes. (Eyelids, mostly.  What’s your point?)

Draw, paint, sketch, write down or even just describe what it is that you want. (See, We’re pretty sure that, if you draw your own winning PowerBall™ ticket, it doesn’t actually win.  Also, you get arrested.  For, ya know, fraud.  And for being poetic without a poetic license. And stuff like that there.)

Someone you talk to today can help you make it a reality (Oh, sure.  But can they help Us make it a reality TELEVISION SHOW?)

— and help you enter a new phase.  (See, now you’re sitting there thinking about Our moon.  And We feel very, very sorry for you.)

Sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all. (In that case, you might as well just crown Us queen right this very minute.)

Today you’re feeling frustrated (It is, after all, a day ending in Y.)

and possibly unable to get anything accomplished. (Alternatively, the period could go after “anything” and the sentiment would be the same.)

Don’t fight it (“It” being, of course, “da funk”.)

(Get. Down…Boogie-Oogie-Oogie.)

— just make it a lazy day and let yourself just chill. (Chillin’ like Bob Dylan, yo.)

(We have no idea.  Just move on.)

Tonight, make a date with a favorite movie and some ice cream. (Ah, the old ménage a trois with Ben and Jerry.  And their new flavor, Hershey Highway.)

(Didn’t see THAT coming, didja?)

*****************************************************************************    

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

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.