A Waterpik™, a Cuisinart™, and a hypo-allergenic dog

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for WinesDay, June 11^st  , 2014.

Happy Birthday to Bill, who turns twenty-four today somewhere in the country.  (Also, somewhere in THIS country.  THE country being IN this country, as it is.  Which must be confusing to tourists. (And which begs the question, We being We, as to what they call country music in other countries.  Especially other countries which have country music of their own. As, presumably, many of them do.  (Unless they’re a little country, like, say, Monaco.)))

They can’t very well call it “American music”, because so is John Phillip Sousa.  And Stephen Sondheim. And Marilyn Manson.  And, seriously, if you mix up Tammy Wynette and Marilyn Manson, you’ve got worse problems than Engrish being your Second Language.

Okay, We’re bored of that…moving on… (aren’t you proud of Us for never saying “We put the ‘cunt’ in ‘country’” in the course of that discussion?  Yeah, Us too.)

So anyway, ordinarily, e-pissodes of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! are stand-alone.  But today, due to some seriously developing themes and subplots, We are going to recommend that you go and read yesterday’s e-pissode first (if you haven’t already).  You will find it here:  http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2014/06/hey-sugar-daddy-hansel-needs-some-sugar.html , and, in case you need extra encouragement, there are candy penises (penii?).

Okay, so you’re either back or you never left.  So We were waiting for a gentlemanly call from a gentleman caller to escort Us to An Event.  In a development that will surprise no one, no one called, gentlemanlyly or otherwise.

However.

We are Woman, hear Us whore; Our ass is too big to ignore.

(What the hell ever happened to Helen Reddy, anyway?)

We put on Our big gurrrlll panties and went to The Event by Our Own Self.  

The Event was a fillum festival.  Because We know people who make fillums, and whose fillums wind up in festivals.  Because Our life is glamorous like that.

Clearly, your pee is green with endive.

(What does that even MEAN?)

At any rate, Our friend wrote, directed, and starred in a short fillum called BIGGER, which was hysterically funny.  And here comes the first developing theme/subplot:  moving on from yesterday’s candy penises (penii?), said fillum was about a theoretical penis (which We never saw (hence its theoreticality)). In fact, the fillum might well have been subtitled “The Little Penis That Could” (or, possibly, “Couldn’t”).

Meanwhile, in one of those co-inky-dinks that could only happen to Us (or on an  e-pissode of The Young and the Rest Of Us),  We happened to know a number of the actors who starred in the fillum festival’s final fillum (there were three fillums, and they were each well under half an hour long…clearly, the fillum festival planners have met Our attention span), including Keith, Corinna (whom We Our Own Self Personally have seen with The Devil), and Dito.

Now here comes developing theme/subplot Number Two (heh…she said “Number Two”):  non-naked skimmers will recall that yesterday was the birthday of  TheLovelyAndTalented Kevin, who has the distinction of being the star of the first live performance of Hedwig and the Angry Inch that We ever saw.  Well, Dito, who was in the final fillum last night, was the star of the SECOND live performance of Hedwig and the Angry Inch that We ever saw.  TWICE.

Clearly, this means that Neil Patrick Harris will be calling by the end of this week to offer Us free tickets to his little show.

Riiiiight?

(Parenthetically (hence the parentheses), We once met a random Hedwig at a party of some sort, but We don’t count her, because We didn’t see her perform.)

In other news, We find Ourselves (not that We were looking for Us, but it’s a figger of speech) in the sign of Gemini, Our video for which is above …and here is the link with which you may share it with your friends: http://youtu.be/Yj7enrUk6js ))).

Also, for those of you who like cups of tea, and history, and someone in a tree, here is Our previous Gemini video, which is the first Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope video We ever made.  Just look how far We’ve come! (Ooops…did that get in your eye?):

And here’s the HorrorScope:

It is Joshua Jackson’s birthday. In Our oh-so-humble opinion, We could all stand to see a great deal more of Joshua Jackson, on screens both large and small.  Somebody hire that boy for something, wouldja?

There’s just a wee bit too much going on beneath the surface (Indeed.  So much so that, on the way from the subway to the fillum festival last night, We were forced to stop into Barnes & Noble to poop.)

(To quote Our friend Sean from Greater Bostonia, “as the kids say, TMI”.)

(Although what the fuck Three Mile Island has to do with anything, We have no idea.)

(On the other hand, it WAS an epic poop.  One might even say “nuclear”.)

(We kill Us.)

— so make sure that you’re ready to deal with the cavalcade of pent-up feelings that seem to be taking over your life. (“Cavalcade” is one of those words you just don’t hear often enough, innit?)

It gets better soon!  (Than what?)

Just when you thought things absolutely couldn’t get any more intense — well, here it is. (Nothing communicates intensity like “well, here it is”.  AssHatt.)

One more situation you have no choice but to become totally and completely emotionally involved in. (Joshua Jackson’s birthday?)

Oh, go ahead. (Jump out of Joshua Jackson’s birthday cake?  Don’t mind if we do.)

Give it your all. (What?  Candy penises (penii?) and everything?)

But know that there could be one more dispute en route tonight, before you can actually let go and put it all behind you.  (“Dispute en route”?  Clearly, Kelli is a poet, but she is unaware of it.)

You might have some pent-up energy that’s not perfect for romance, (Gee…ya think?)

so power through a work project in order to direct it productively. (We shall power through.  Like Jeff Stryker in Powertool. (Is “We Shall Power Through” the white yuppie version of “We Shall Overcome”?  Discuss.))

The flip side is you’ve got the chance for progress and regeneration. (By process of elimination, We shall have a professional regurgitation…(We only said that because We couldn’t think of a Flip Wilson joke.))

(Candy-coated popcorn, penis, and a prize…that’s what you get in CrackerJack™.)

Namaste, MotherFuckers.

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

(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://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!)

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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.

                                                                                                                                     

I can smell the death on the sheets

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for, March 5^rd , 2014. Happy Hash Wednesday to all of Our Rastafarian readers.

Happy Birthday to Tom, who turns twenty-four today, right here in The City That Loves You (On Your) Back.  Happy Birthday also to Erik, who also turns twenty-four today, somewhere across the bridge in New Jersey. Happy Birthday also too to Floyd, who also too turns twenty-four today, somewhere across several bridges in Connecticut.

Additionally, Happy Birthday to Mary Ann, who turns twenty-four today in Altoona.  Altoona, Pennsylvania, that is.  Not Altoona, Texas. (Or Alabama, or Florida, or Iowa, or Kansas, or West Wisconsonomington.  (We knew there were several Altoonas in the country, but until We just now Googled on Wikipedia (did that sound dirty to you?  Because it sounded dirty to Us, and We knew what We were talking about (for a change)), We had no idea how many.))

Also, apparently, according to Micro$oft Weird™, “Altoonas” is not a correctly spelled plural of “Altoona”.  “Altoonae”?

And last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Egg, who turns twenty-four today in Eggleston (naturally), all the way over in the UK. (Or as We like to call it, “the YUK”.  (If you don’t see a yolk joke coming, you are clearly a total newb in these parts.))

In other news, We had a dream last night which involved the purchase of preposterously inordinate quantities of tealight candles from a dollar store. 

(“Preposterously Inordinate”, for those of you who were wondering, was Our nickname in high school.) 

This dream was followed, as such dreams are wont to be, by a dream involving Our Own Personal demise. We lay on Our deathbed, comforted by little except Our ability to conjugate the verb “lie” properly, and graphed Our capitulation to Our mysterious ailment on a chart, while waiting for people to come And visit Us.  We rallied three times, each more feebly than the last, and no one came.  Finally, an extremely tall gentleman whom We had never seen before appeared by Our bedside.  We told him that he was a very good man.

Then We died.

Or woke up.

One of those.

So.

That was macabre, no?

In still other news, We are poor, so We need to sell a lot of tickets to the following:

We will be performing one night only, Thursday, March 6^th, in The Walker and O'Dare Mystery Radio Hour at the Powel House.  Details here: https://www.facebook.com/events/462325460534871/

On Friday, March 7^th, We will be performing one of the few remaining performances of Our murder mystery, Murder in Twelve Steps, which, if you haven’t seen in the past year, you probably don’t care about now.

And on Saturday, March 8^th, We will be dusting off Everybody’s Favorite Messiah, Jesus H. Christ, as the WaitStaff plays The Match Game  at L’Etage: https://www.facebook.com/events/289403944541722/

Meanwhile, in ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopular) news, We have entered the sign of Pisces, Our most recent video for which is above.  Here is the link with which you may share it with your friends: http://youtu.be/KMNgwWwNux8  

Because you do that, don’t you?  DON’T YOU?

And here, because We can resist no opportunity to share it, is Our FIRST Pisces video, starring the now non-teen-aged Justin Bieber.  :

http://www.queerty.com/justin-biebers-penis-will-be-redacted-from-police-security-footage-sorry-everyone-20140305/

In celebrity birthday news, We are thinking that, if your last name is “Knight”, and you name your baby boy “Sterling”, he had best not grow up to be ugly.  So good thing THAT worked out okay, yes?

Your hard work finally pays off (Our yard work, on the other hand, pays no one. (We thought for sure that, by the time We turned twenty-four, We’d have a gardener.  And a pool boy.  At least one of whom would be named “Ramon”.  Or “Raoul”.  Sigh.))

— and this may be just the first installment. (Fuck “installments”.  We’ll take cash.)

It’s a good day for you to relax a bit as you prepare for the next phase of your big plan. (Wait…We have a plan?)

Get back to it soon, though!  (Okay, “it”?  What is this “it” of which you speak?  Pronouns need antecedents, you addled-pated AssHatt.)

You’ve trained yourself to relax and count to ten when you feel the fire rising up to color your cheeks. (That was an undercover fart joke, wasn’t it?)

If it happens today, you’re better off putting some distance between you and whomever has turned up the thermostat — especially if that flushed feeling starts creeping around to the back of your neck. (Good lord, it’s an undercover fart ANECDOTE, fercrissakes!)

Take a power-walk!  (With a powerbottom!  Or someone who has a powerrtool!  (Paging Jeff Stryker…Jeff Stryker, to the white courtesy phone please…))

You may feel ready to go for a big kill as far as romance is concerned, but Cupid has other plans. (Because nothing says “romance” like a BIG KILL.)

Something else is going on behind the scenes that you don’t know about yet. (Wait…are We in the audience, or are We in the play?  You’re muddling your metaphor, Moron.)

Hold off on making any big commitment for now until the momentum changes. (Aren’t these daily e-pisstles e-nough e-vidence that We have no intention of having Ourself committed?  Jeebus.)

Namaste, MotherFuckers.

In gaseousness,

Starzina Starfish-Browne

(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://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.