Showing posts with label Jack Klugman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jack Klugman. Show all posts

Monday, April 28, 2014

And MacHeath has got a knife, but not in such an obvious place…






Hello, Ducks!




Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for JustAnotherManiacShe’sAManiacOnTheFloorAndShe’sDancingLikeSheNeverDancedBefore…Sorry…ManicMonday, April 28rd , 2014.



Happy Birthday to Anne, who turns twenty-four today in Al-t-t-toonaTown.  


Happy Birthday also to Greg, who also turns twenty-four today, in FairBrooklynThePrideOfTheThornInTheSideOfNewYork.



Happy Belated Birthday, meanwhile, to Christina and Dena, Israel and Letta, and Raechal and OurAmericanCousin Roxane, each of whom turned twenty-four this past weekend in such disparate locations as MaryLand and Virginia, Greater Bostonia and The City Of Brotherly Love Handles, and Jew Nersey and Fran Sancisco, where We hear it’s lovely, but where We also hear that they think Rice-A-Roni™ is a treat.



We would have a little contest to see who could most quickly and correctly match the belated birthday boyz and gurlz with their correct geographic locations, but then We would most likely realize how very few people are paying any attention to Us whatsoever.



For those of you who enjoy Stories In Which We Are Tortured (which is all of you, yes?), We would like to point out that Our next-door neighbor’s kitchen renovation continues apace, for the four hundred and elebenty-twelve-billionth week in a row, with all of the attendant hammering, drilling, and whatnot One could possibly wish to enjoy with One’s morning coffee.  (Said “whatnot” includes, but is not limited to, outbursts of language which would make Us blush (if We were not already a cunning linguist Our Own Self.))



In other news, We are awaiting with bated breath (because We are nothing if not a master breath-bater) the arrival of Our birthday gift of tickets to see Hedwig and the Angry Inch starring Neil Patrick Harris and Lotte Lenya…





In still other news, please Save The Dates for Thursday, May 8th, for the next installment of The Walker and O’Dare Radio Mystery Hour at the Powel House, and Saturday, May 10th, as the WaitStaff will be playing The Mother of All Match Games at L’Etage.  More on that story as it develops, but inside sources tell Us that Jesus H. Christ’s celebrity chair will be taken by His Mother, Mrs. Mary MotherOfGod! You won’t want to miss THAT!



We suddenly find Ourselves (not that We were looking for Us, but it’s a figger of speech) in the sign of Taurus, Our video for which is above, and here is the link with which you may share it with your friends:



Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone in a tree, here is Our previous Taurus video, which is somewhat of a fillum noir, if you will. (Or even if you won’t…since when is it all about you?):





And here’s the HorrorScope:



In celebrity birthday news, it is the birthday of some lovely specimen named Drew Seeley, of whom We have (much like what’s-his-pecs on Friday) never heard.  However, some crafty Googling on Wikipedia has enabled Us to pinpoint the onset of Our disconnect with current pop culture to Our complete ignorance of the entire High School Musical series.  Said ignorance, We hasten to assure you, seems destined to continue unabated, despite the existence in The Universe of Zac Efron’s (circumcised) penis.



In non-penis-related celebrity birthday news, this past weekend marked the birthday of Jack Klugman, which We bring up as an excuse to say, “Hi, Sharon!”




You’re exploring new territory today (Are We spelunking?  Because that sounds like more fun.  (Although “spelunkers have more fun” sounds like a terrible slogan.))




— maybe in the company of coworkers, maybe on your own entirely. (Oh, please.  Do you even need to ask?  We have no cow orkers.  All of Our cows are, sadly, unorked.)




The terrific energy that courses through you as you make discoveries is its own reward!  (Well, it’ll have to be, won’t it?  It’s not like any other rewards are coming along any time soon…)




The ball is totally in your court, (Just the one? Where’s the other one?)




 and you could be nearing the end of the game.  (Well, there’s a cheerful thought.)




Give it your all (Yeah, ya know, We try that…and still We wind up screwed.  Meanwhile, however, much like Ashton Kutcher’s The Butterfly Effect, the fact that We just got screwed has caused Us to refrain from doing A Nice Thing We were gonna do, and…JEEBUS CRIPES, STOP THAT INCESSANT DRILLING, OR WE’RE GONNA COME OVER THERE!)




— holding back now just confuses your teammates and might give your opponents just the opening they’re waiting for.  (Wait…Our opponents are waiting for Our opening?  Since when?)




You don’t want to do that, (Or much of anything else, neither.)




especially when the prize is just within your reach. (That’s whatcha get in CrackerJacks™.)




(What?)




 Most of all, you deserve it — a fact that competitors have to acknowledge.  (So are people who compete on the InterNetz dot.competitors?)





(Sorry.)




Keep up the good work!  (Kiss Our assets!  Also,  Our grits!)




 You know what? (Chicken butt.)




 Things are always, always greener, (It’s not easy being greener.)   


                            

so don’t make a wish. (Ice cream…is a dish…Moss Hart makes…)       




It might come true. (And We wouldn’t want THAT, now would We?)     




Avoid spending too much time lamenting your single status (But We are such a good lamenter…)




 — it’s really a blessing in disguise. (So it looks like a fucking curse, then?)




(Heh…see what We did there?)




You don’t realize it, but you’re the envy of all your attached friends.  (Well, sure.  If, by “attached friends”, you mean “conjoined twins”.)




Revel in it, baby!  (Oh, shut up.)





Namaste, MotherFuckers.



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://sett.com/astrogeek895/.  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.


                                                                                                                                     

Saturday, June 9, 2012

You say it’s your birthday…



Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for SayerDee, June 9, 2012.  Despite the clear weekendishness of the day du jour, We were for some reason drawn to Bloggonia to e-pisstlize…drawn, We say, like a moth to an old flame wearing a wool sweater.  (For any newbs who chance to be in the house, that would be a sophomoric metaphor wearing a metaphoric pinafore while doing a semaphoric homage to Millard Fillmore.  Metaphorically speaking, of course.) Was it to wish a happy birthday to Sharon, aka Brett Somers of The Match Game, aka Mrs. Jack Klugman (who is, parenthetically, still alive, We have just learned (Jack, that is, not Brett)), who turns twenty-four today?  Or was it to wish a happy birthday to Doug, who is also, presumably, still alive, and who, in one of those odd coincidences that make the Erix Daily Horoscope world turn, also turns twenty-four today?  Or was it perchance to wish a happy birthday in advance to Kevin, who may or may not still be alive, at least as far as We have any way of knowing, who turns twenty-four tomorrow?

No.

It is Johnny. Depp’s. Birthday. People…would We leave you e-pisstless on such a monumentally momentous occasion?  No, We would not.  Who else would whisperingly lisp “e-pisstless” at you and get spittle in your ear?

(Clearly, “getspittle” is meant to be all one word.  It is a nouny neologism that We have just now invented, and We shall no doubt shortly be inspired to define exactly what a getspittle is.  All We know now is that it is obviously something that gets stuck in your rear.)

But enough of this etymological morass.  (Heh…she said “more ass”.)  It’s Johnny Depp’s birthday…We’ve got a cake to frost.  Sure, they may look like frosting flowers, but they are actually genitalia of the feminine persuasion. Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Majorette’s Labia Menorah.

We have no idea where that came from.  Clearly, Johnny Depp’s birthday has Us all a-twatter.

Having just re-read what We’ve written so far, it occurs to Us that “getspittle” may actually be Pennsylvania Dutch.  Whether that’s true or not, We’ll never know, as We have no access to the Amish InterNetz. Sigh. #Ass(tromalogical)Ho(roscopulist)PeopleProblems.

Yes, people, that was both a hashtag AND a meme.  Try to keep up.

We alluded, earlier (oh, yes, We did…because We?  Are an alluder.  Occasionally, We are a lewd alluder.  A loud lewd alluder who alludes aloud.), to The Match Game, and We would like to thank everyone who came out to support Us while We were having more fun in public than should be legal.  And We would like this to be the first notice you have that The Match Game  will be back (yes, by the infamous popular demand (and We’re not even making that up)) on July 13th and 14th. More on that story as it develops.

We also alluded to a certain piece of Young Adult Fiction entitled Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Majorette’s Labia Menorah, and We hear that amazon.com has crashed from you all attempting to order a copy thereof.  Perverts.

That’s really all We’ve got, and We have all sorts of other things to do, so don’t get your getspittles in a twist; here’s the HorrorScope:

You love to improvise, but on a day like today, why not try planning ahead?  (How ‘bout We try planning for head?  (We just realized that, for those of you who are reading Erix Daily Horoscope to the blind, that may have sounded like “planning forehead”.  Which makes no sense.  The blind will just have to forgive Us, though, because, hey…someone’s reading to you, yes?  Count your damn blessings.))

 You’ve got the right kind of mental energy to dream up something great, (Indeed.  Why, just this morning, We invented the getspittle.)

so run with it and gather your forces.  (Oh, see, now.  We’ve mistakenly gathered Our farces.  (Did you just hear a door slam?))

You have many different visions of what you want the next year of your life to be, and you won’t get anywhere with any of them unless you pick one idea and stick with it!  (Well, for starters, how ‘bout We leave that labia menorah idea out of the running.  Also, We are now fairly sure that the getspittle is a musical instrument, but We’re not sure how that helps Us.)

Being indecisive is understandable, for a while. (Well, sometimes it is.  Sort of.)

(This shit just writes itself.)

But you can’t carry on too long (Apparently, you have not met Us.)

without knowing where to go next — you need to do whatever it takes to make your choice, today. (Choosy motherfuckers choose .gif.)

(What does that even MEAN?)

Getting more information will only confuse and overwhelm you, so focus on what matters. (Yes, let’s not cloud the issue with facts.)

Then decide. (Don’t tell Us what to do!)

Flip a coin if you have to, just get going!  (Wait…We have a coin?  Things ARE looking up!)

Somehow you feel as if you’re missing out on something. (Well, this cake ain’t gonna frost itself.)

Stirring the drama pot won’t make it any better. (“The drama pot”?  Seriously?)

Don’t cause problems just for your entertainment. (You’re no fun.)

Better to tie up loose ends and pay attention to your own issues for the time being.  (Seventy-six trombones led the big parade, with a hundred and ten getspittles right behind.  Staring off with a big gang-bang with a Chinese wang and a big gang-banger in the rear…)







(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.