Hello, Ducks!
Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your
Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherMagicMikeWasn’tEvenNominatedMonday,
February 25, 2013. Oh, Our dears, this
is going to be a long one! (That being,
We shouldn’t even have to point out, unless you are such a newb that they just
took the wrappings off, What She Said.) For
the first time evah here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!, We are going to bring you
complete Oscar™ coverage, except for those parts where We hadda go pee. Because, as We have recently discovered,
YouPeople do so prefer to follow Our bouncing ballz along when We have a point.
But first, some birthday wishes. From Saturday, Happy Belated Birthday to Lyle
and his sister, Lyell, each of whom turned twenty-four that day. (You might think that would make them twins,
but they are hardly identical.) Happy
Belated Birthday also to Susan, who also turned twenty-four On Saturday, and
who is on the verge of becoming Our second-cousin-in-law. (We have a chart that tells Us things like
who’s a first, second, and third cousin, who’s removed, who’s an inlaw, who’s
an outlaw, who’s on first, what’s on second, I don’t know’s on third…this is
getting really long and We didn’t even get to the Oscars™ yet.)
Also from Saturday, Happy Belated Birthday to
Chris and to Nick, who also turned twenty-four.
And from Sunday, Happy Belated Birthday to MizGerreGarrett and to Cathy,
each of whom also turned (in an odd coincidence) twenty-four, and to Jonathan,
who, marching to a differently-abled drummer as he does, did NOT turn twenty-four. And, last but not Lee’s™ Press-On Nails,
Happy Birthday to Len, who turns twenty-four today.
And now, ladies and genitals, the Oscars™!
First off, We must point out that We started
off under the mistaken impression that the proverbial shit was to begin hitting
the proverbial fan at 8PM Eastern Standard Time, so We are also able to report
on a bit of the pre-show red carpet shenanigantics. This
consisted of several noted entertainment reporters, all dressed to the nines,
asking every woman who wandered their way, “Who are you wearing?” Our first sign that this was going to be a
long, unrelenting evening was when not a single woman replied, “Ross
Dress-for-Less…what’s it to ya?”
In addition to the noted entertainment reporters,
this segment of the evening also involved, inexplicably, Kristen Chenowith,
flitting about the celebs like a hyperactive mosquito with attention deficit
disorder and a crack pipe, saying, “Bless your heart” a lot. Now, while Kristen Chenowith is well-known on
the Broadway stage, and has, in recent years, begun making inroads into
television, We are hard-pressed to name A Kristen Chenowith Fillum. Mainly because We don’t think there are any. Also, she is weird looking and way too
skinny. Go away and eat a fucking
sandwich, Kristen Chenowith.
Speaking of weird looking, Our apologies to People magazine and the rest of his
fans, but We totally Do Not Get the Channing Tatum fascination.
The red carpet also marked the evening’s
first (but by no means the evening’s LAST) appearance of Miss Jane Hathaway,
who was, of course, nominated for Best Supporting Anorexic for Baguette’s Feast, or some other damn
foreign fillum. She was wearing a pale-pink
dress through which One could clearly see her nipples, despite the fact that
she has no breasts. Mister Drysdale will
certainly be giving her a talking-to in the morning. Although Jethro no doubt had a boner.
For those who would like to (re-)read Our review of Miss Jane Hathaway's fillum, please see here: http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/02/everybody-raise-glass-raise-it-up.html
Would We be showing Our age if We mentioned
that we remember when Daniel Day-Lewis was hot?
Okay, so now We’re about to leave the red
carpet and go start the show. But
first, for some reason, they want Us to know that the cast of Glee is
somehow the future of movie-making, and will be helping to present
Oscars™ throughout the evening. Also,
lest We think that Kristen Chenowith has gone off somewhere to bite her husband’s
head off after mating, they threaten Us that, if We stay awake throughout the
entire proceedings, at the very end, she’s gonna SING to Us. Because there’s nothing anybody ever wants more,
after they’ve given out the very last Oscar™, than for the show to go on a
while longer.
Okay, NOW We’re inside, and the show is
starting, and Our first thought is, Day-um, Donny Osmond has had some work
done! But what the hell’s wrong with his
hair? (We did, of course, ultimately realize that the host is not Donny Osmond,
although We cannot be arsed, at this point, to remember who the hell it
is. However, during a commercial break,
IMDB informed Us that he had every bit as much business appearing on the Oscars™
as Donny Osmond and/or Kristen Chenowith, and---)
WTF?!?
Is that William Shatner? Why, yes…yes,
it is. Conveniently attired, for those
who might not recognize him from his long and illustrious fillum career, in his
Star Wars Trek uniform. He is interacting with Donny Osmond in what
is apparently Act Four of the evening’s opening. “You don’t,” he intones, “want to be the
first Oscars™ host to get a bad review.”
(Apparently, We are all supposed to have forgotten the 2011 debacle
involving James Franco and Miss Jane Hathaway.)
Note to Self: Since he refuses to become past tense, should his name be William Shitner?
Wow, this opening is long. Like Wagner’s Ring Cycle long. And equally funny. For some reason, Channing Tatum and Charlize
Theron dance during it. The dance is
well-executed, and mercifully brief.
Not, however, so brief that it doesn’t give Us time to realize that
Channing Tatum and Charlize Theron have the same initials. They could get married and nobody would need
to buy them new towels. Also, Channing
Tatum is wearing, We shit you not, spats.
We don’t know why people wore spats back when people wore spats. He looks even stupider than he looked on the
red carpet.
Also dancing? Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Daniel
Radcliffe. We have dreams in which
Joseph Gordon-Levitt dances with Daniel Radcliffe. But (A.) they are not tap-dancing and (2.)
they are not wearing tuxedos.
We trust We have given you some sense of just
how long the opening was. We are not,
naturally, going to do an award-by-award description of the rest of the evening,
as We are not being paid by the word; We shall just leave you with some kaleidoscopic
impressions.
At some point early on That Fat Chick Who Is
Making A Career Out Of Nothing Except Being That Fat Chick came out to
present. Hey, Fat Chick: if you want Us to be politically correct, and
NOT call you out for looking like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon, you
might wanna see to it that your stylists don’t dress you in some ill-fitting
battleship gray shmata that makes Us think alternately of elephants and hippopotami. KThxWaddleOff.
Is Dustin Hoffman making The Tony Bennett Story?
Whatever happened to Jamie Foxx’s eyebrows?
Damn…why was the Downton Abbey finale last
week? We could totally switch over to
that.
Is there really an animatronic bear telling
Jews-in-Hollywood jokes? Really?
No Sound Design award for the sound people
working this show…the orchestra consistently overpowered every single
singer. Until they got to the Les Miz part. Which sounded a kabillion times better than
the actual fillum. Of course, the
excerpts from Chicago and Dreamgirls only served to point out how
wretched Les Miz really was.
Speaking of singers and animatronics, did
anyone else find it bizarre that the nose that Barbra Streisand refused to have
surgically altered for all those years is now the only thing on her face that
has NOT been surgically altered? Just
Us? Alrighty, then.
Also, you GO, Shirley Bassey! Also, Adele!
And this, it should be noted, especially by Elephant Fat Chick from
earlier, is how a generously-proportioned woman needs to dress herself. “Skyfall”,
unfortunately, is a mediocre song at best, especially as Bond songs go, but who
cares? Adele has an Oscar™!
Meryl Streep, meanwhile, apparently picks her
ass just like anybody else.
And, just as threatened, the evening ended
with a song by Kristen Chenowith and Donny Osmond, full of jokes about the nominees
who didn’t win Oscars™ that nobody could hear because the sound balance was so
off.
Speaking of a thrill just to be nominated, We
have released Our new Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope video
for Pisces, which see above. Here
is the link with which you would share same with your friends, both Piscean and
otherwise: http://youtu.be/KMNgwWwNux8 .
Many of you will recall Our 2012 Pisces
video, complete with guest appearance by Justin Bieber. Since We never tire of
sharing that with Our adoring public, while We are waiting for Our invitation
to go sailing on Mister Bieber’s yacht, here it is:
We repeated that paragraph in its entirety
from the other day because We are still pondering what exactly the “sailing on
Mister Bieber’s yacht” euphemism might actually mean. Sigh.
We are out of time for today, so here are:
(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!)
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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.
