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

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for  WinesDay, October 31, 2012.  Happy Halloween to all you Happy Hallowieners and Hallowienettes. (We hear you all clamoring, “What the hell is a ‘Hallowienette’?”  And to both of you, We say, “A ‘Hallowienette’ is the feminine version of a ‘Hallowiener’.  ‘Wienette’ being a classy way of saying ‘vagina’, much like ‘wiener’ is a classy way of saying ‘dick’.  Get with the program, already.)

We Our Own Self Personally will be spending Our Halloween playing The Match Game.  We shall be dressed up as Jesus H. Christ, who is dressed up as Satan. We have devil horns that light up and blink.  You wouldn’t want to miss THAT, wouldja?  Come on down! Show up in costume!  Hell, just show up!  It’s only fifteen bucks, and you’ll be out by 9, free to go haunt other Halloween parties of your choosing.  If you’re a student, and you show up with TEN bucks in your hand, We’ll let you in.  If you show up with your wiener in your hand, We’ll probably let you in WITHOUT ten bucks.  Because that’s just the kind of stuff that happens when Jesus H. Christ works the door.

That’s The WaitStaff’s Real Housewives of South Philly Halloween Match Game Extravaganza! Tonight, 7:30 at L’Etage at 6^th and Bainbridge.  Doors open at 7.  If you wanted to buy tickets in advance, you would do that here: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/284819

But if you didn’t, you would just show up at the door with something or another in your hand, and you would get in.  It’s a miracle!

(It took Us all this time to notice that We had been misspelling ‘wiener’ as ‘weiner’.  We never have that problem with dcik.)

And now, as a public service to Our procrastinating readers who have yet to figger out their Halloween costumes, here’s this (you’re welcome):

EASY HALLOWEEN
COSTUME IDEAS.

BY TIM CARVELL

- - - -

Happy Halloween. For today we thought we’d dive deep into our archives and republish a piece by Tim Carvell. This first appeared on our website on October 31, 1999.

- - -

Undertaker 
Wear dark suit, white shirt, dark tie. Speak in modulated tones.

Undercover Police Officer 
Dress as usual, only more so. Act as you usually would, only more so. Swagger.

White House Intern
Wear khakis, button-down shirt. Behave as you usually would. They’re not all like her, you know.

Proctologist 
Wear a coat and a tie. Behave normally. What, you think they’re all ass-grabbing freaks or something? They’re not. They’re normal people, just like you and me.

War Criminal 
Dress as you usually do. Act as you usually do. Decline to supply information about your past.

Douglas Fairbanks 
Locate grave of Douglas Fairbanks, dig up remains, attach them to self with duct tape. Behave as you imagine Douglas Fairbanks might.

A Unicorn 
Dress as you usually would. Inform people that you are dressed as a unicorn. When people point out that you look nothing like a unicorn, tell them that unicorns don’t exist, and to stop being such babies.

Amputee 
Drink a fifth of bourbon. With a sharp, clean knife, remove one or more limbs. Cauterize wound(s).

Newborn Baby 
Shave off all body hair, cover self in amniotic fluid. Arrange to be carried around by ankles. Mingle.

Ned Beatty 
Find a plastic surgeon who will make you look as much like Ned Beatty as is surgically possible. Many surgeons will refuse; keep looking until you find one who agrees. Undergo many painful operations until you are a dead ringer for Ned Beatty. Arrive at party and be mistaken for Ned Beatty, then inform your friends of what you have done. They will be amazed. It will all be worth it.

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Here is the link with which you would share Our new Time of the Month Horoscope video with your friends, if you were (subjunctively) so inclined.  Like the plane. http://youtu.be/UiJLA4MRNNg .  Enjoy!

Speaking of complete non sequiturs (as opposed, presumably, to the incomplete kind), here is last year’s Scorpio video to compare with this year’s (see above):

And one more non sequitur before We carry on…someone subscribed to Our YouTube channel yesterday, so, of course, as One does, We returned the favor, and asked him how he had stumbled upon Us.  His response:

You asked how I found you... I Googled Dick Gautier today(his 81st birthday) and a photo of you in a "I Got It In The Bunghole" t-shirt popped up. True story.

So We are just a little bit more famous today than We were yesterday.  Because now We know somebody who Googles Dick Gautier.  (Did that sound dirty to you?  Because it sounded dirty to Us.)

Here’s the HorrorScope:

In case you were wondering why there was just a little bit more music in The Universe today than usual, it is both Willow Smith’s AND Vanilla Ice’s birthday today.

Something’s in the way (Something in the way she moves…)

(Sorry.)

- so climb (ev’ry mountain, ford ev’ry stream, follow ev’ry rainbow, till you want to scream.)

(Life is just a fucking musical comedy, innit?)

over it, move around it or tunnel under it if you must. (Alternatively, whip your hair back and forf.)

Obstacles don’t mean it’s time to quit; they symbolize your efforts to do what you need to do.  (Yeah, whatever.  Shut up, Kelli…the sun is shining!)

You’ve been too agreeable lately (Have not.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

(Are you kidding?  Helen Keller saw what We did there, and explained it to Ray Charles.)

— and you run the risk of being branded a pushover!  (Which is better than being branded a pullover, because why burn a hole in a perfectly good sweater?)

(Hey, they can’t ALL be comedy gold.  (Did We mention that Helen Keller saw what We did there, and explained it to Ray Charles?))

Today, it’s time to stand up for what you think is right.  (We will stand up when a boy walks through the door of L’Etage with his wiener in his hand, and not a moment before.)

Don’t back off from being the lone voice of dissent in the room. (What if We want to switch off to being the lone voice of ASSent?)

(Heh.  We said “ASS”.)

If something isn’t right to you, then it isn’t right!  (We are, after all, The Arbiter Of RightNess.  The Right Guard, if you will.  (Or even if you won’t…what the fuck makes you think it’s all about YOU?)  We have A Divine Right.  And Our Left ain’t bad, neither.)

(Does anyone have the vaguest idea what the hell We’re talking about, and, if so, could you tell Us, please?)

You deserve the chance to say your piece (“Your piece.”)

(Heh.  We kill Us.)

and have your thoughts be given just as much respect as everyone else’s.   (Shut. Up. AssHat.)

(We would say “see what We did there?” again, but nobody liked Our Helen Keller joke.  Party-pooping party-poopers who poop inappropriately at parties.)

(Poop!)

If at first you don’t succeed romantically, should you try again? (Maybe We should try it with another person involved this time?  And not, like, ya know, an inflatable one?)

Unless you’re crossing over into overdoing it, you should probably give a certain person or situation another try. (Well, that was just a staggering monument to unspecificity, wunnit?)

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!)

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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.

                                                                                                                                    

Younger than Springtime for Hitler am I

                                        

                                                                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                                                           

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Monday, April 18, 2011.  Happy birthday to Marilyn, who turns twenty-four today.  And happy belated birthday to Himself, who turned twenty-four over the weekend.   Himself is exceedingly grateful for all the calls, cards, good wishes, and SitOnMyFaceBook messages He received in honor of the occasion.  And, since We know you are all Inquiring Minds Who Want To Know, We shall tell you a little bit about His nativity festivities.  The Big Day started out much earlier than anyone had anticipated, with an unexpected 4AM Birthday Poop.  The most exciting thing about that for Our intrepid Birthday Boy was that He actually woke up prior to the poop occurring and, consequently, was able to enjoy it to the fullest, having betaken Himself to the receptacle wherein such efforts are usually made, instead of remaining fast asleep in His bed.  Because, birthday or no birthday, Starzina Starfish-Browne does NOT change anyone’s poopy sheets.   Having divested Himself of inordinately large quantities of poop in an exceedingly satisfying manner, He went cheerfully back to sleep for a number of hours, whilst visions of SugarBabies danced in His head.

Regular (heh) Gentle Readers will recall that SugarBabies are similar in principle to SugarDaddies, except that they are rich and YOUNG.

Meanwhile, Our story has been derailed by Micro$oftWeird™, which not only does not recognize “poopy” as a word, but also is suggesting that We replace it with “pope”. And, while the epic Birthday Poop was certainly a religious experience (in the secular sense), such a replacement would no doubt turn it into a very different story indeed.

Later in the day, there was champagne, and that was very lovely.

And now for a completely different story, entitled The Little Rotary Cell Phone That Couldn’t.  We are aware that many of Our Gentle Readers of varying regularities (poop!) have taken the plunge and obtained smart phones, which are apparently the best thing since sliced bread.  (For all We know, said phones may actually slice bread, probably after baking it, too.) We Our Own Self Personally have slogged Ludditically on with Our plain old rotary cell phone, which still accepts nickels and whose number is BUtterfield-8.  We ask very little of said instrument, except that it take the occasional photo of the inside of Our pants, and that it allow Us to make, oh, I don’t know, PHONE CALLS.  As it has, of late, become temperamental about just how much of those phone calls it will allow Us to HEAR, We have decided to chuck its antiquated ass and obtain a new (and, hopefully, more friendly and accommodating) device.

And what does this mean to YOU, Gentle Readers?  Because you, you, you, it’s all about YOU.  It means that you can look forward tomorrow to being regaled with the scintillating story of Our Visit To The Phone Store, and thus may possibly avoid stories involving poop.

You’re welcome.

And now, the movement…er, moment you’ve all been waiting for:  The HorrorScope:

Why does all the important stuff have to happen under the surface? (Because you can’t drown somebody without holding their head under?)

That’s what it feels like today, (But more importantly, what does it smell like today?)

and while you may feel a bit clueless, (Roll out those shoeless, poo-less, clueless days of summer…)

(Life is a cabaret, old chump.  (Actually, Life™ is a cereal.  Also a board game.  But that would kind of fu(k up the song.))

you can at least rest easy knowing your subconscious is on the case.  (So wait…We’re supposed to be conscious of Our subconscious?  We feel a headache coming on…)

Today, like many days, you should focus on the journey — not just the destination. (Ever the trailblazer, We have decided to adopt the novel approach of focusing on Uranus.  We are going to focus on Uranus starting RIGHT NOW.  (Did you feel a little tingle when We said that?  Because We sure did.))

You need to slow down, or you could miss some important landmarks. (Okay, focused, as We are, on Uranus, that was just disgusting.)

Juggle your schedule to create more free time in the evening, because you need a chunk of time that’s flexible and relaxed. (Juggle your balls… We’re focused on Uranus.)

If a talkative friend wants to bend your ear on the phone, politely tell them you have other things to deal with. (Politely tell them it was your fu(king birthday, why don’t they buy you a goddamn phone?)

(Speaking of which, We forgot to mention today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Dick Van Dyke Chita Rivera Paul Lynde Dick Gautier Susan Watson Kay Medford Charles Nelson Reilly.  It is, of course, from the opening number of the off-off-off-Broadway musical, Gay Gay Birdie (“Have you heard about Hugo and Tim?”).  But, just in case you haven’t purchased Himself’s birthday present yet, it also serves as a gift suggestion. Take THAT, Amazon.)

Pull out your patience and save the foot race for another day.  (Did she just say, “pull out your patience”?   We’re REALLY gonna focus on Uranus now.  (You put Uranus in, you put Uranus out, you put Uranus in, and you shake it all about….))

If you haven’t already done so, now is the best time to write down your needs and goals for your love life and beyond. (Is it possible that We have gotten beyond Our very Own love life?  That is so deep…)

Don’t get too picky — jot down a few attainable results, and don’t waste time getting to work! (Just sit on a happy face…)

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(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.