Let’s go crazy crazy crazy

Hello, Ducks!

             

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for GoodPieRupeeTuesday, HookahDanangAniméAnew, VenuesChainsWithBenVereen’sNudeLegs, StiltLimeGunnerMitchWho?, November 19^rd, 2013.

We brought that back ‘cause We got nothin’.  It is apparently nobody’s birthday.  Well, at least nobody that We know.  And who else matters, really?  Oh, sure, it’s Jodie Foster’s birthday, but she doesn’t call, she doesn’t write.  Also, it’s Meg Ryan’s birthday.  We’ll have what she’s having.   And, last but not Lee Strasberg, it is Everybody’sFavoriteUnderwearDesigner Calvin Klein’s birthday.  Which We are using as an excuse to make Our Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Roger Moore Nancy Drew one of Calvin Klein boytoy, Nick Gruber.

Whatevs.

Speaking of boys in their underwear, you may recall, almost two weeks ago, Our birthday felicitations to Bryan, in which We pixtured him both in and out of his Y-fronts. (If you do NOT recall, please go here: http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/11/so-spread-sunshine-all-over-place.html  for what We promise you will be a much more entertaining e-pissode of Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope! than the one you are currently reading.)

Turns out, Bryan only saw said SitOnOurFaceBook posting yesterday.  So that was a whole lot of wasted viZZZualization.  We reckon We’re just gonna have to start pixturing Bryan’s birthday suit all over again.

Here We imagined These Young People were all up on their technology, and all the time Bryan’s been cramming 8-track tapes into his BetaMax™.

(Yes, that WAS a euphemism…thank you so much for noticing.)

Now if only We could get a few other folks to answer Our emails and texts…

And here’s the HorrorScope:

A phone call changes everything today (Will it change Our Tuesday panties?  ‘Cause We’ve had ‘em on since last Tuesday…)

— so make sure your ringer is on and your battery is charged!  (We’re pretty sure that, if you bought Our life at a toy store, it would have a big label on it that said, “Batteries Not Included”.)

(Wow.)

(That was deep.)

(Not real meaningful, but real deep.)

 It’s a good day for lateral thinking and flexible actions, (Does that sound vaguely dirty to you?)

 so get ready for almost anything.  (How exactly does One “get ready for almost anything”?  Okay…on the count of three…get ready for tea with Queen Elizabeth…climbing Mount Kilimanjaro…and gender-reassignment surgery!)

(See?  It can’t be done.  And that was only three things.  Stupid bitch.)

Communication isn’t a problem  (Sez YOU.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

— you’re able to make your points eloquently and succinctly.  (Eloquently and Succinctly are, of course, two of the dwarves in Snow White and the Seven Really Gay Dwarves.)

That’s why saying what’s on your mind is a lot easier than usual these days. (Why would saying “what’s on your mind” ever be difficult?  It’s not like it has a lot of esses, or is a tongue-twister, or anything?  AssHatt.)

It helps to plan out what you’re going to say well in advance, but you manage to be quite convincing when you have to speak in front of a group of people on the spur of the moment. (We are desperately trying to come up with a “sperm of the moment” joke.  We’ll get back to you.)

 If you’re usually a shy person, (Whose horoscope is this, anyway?)

this is the ultimate time (Also, Ultimate Frisbee™ time.)

(What?)

to stand up and say what’s been in your heart for a long, long time.  (Blood.)

An offbeat, (Insert “beatoff” joke here.)

rather interesting event might offer much-needed insight when it comes to your love life. (Oh, so all We need is some insight, eh?)

Keep your eyes open for signs you might otherwise not see. (Like Slippery When Wet?)

A big decision only you can make is coming.  (Yes, We WOULD like fries with that.)

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.

                                                                                                                                     

In the movie that We saw, We saw your boobs.

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  Friday, March 1th, 2013.  In like a limepicker, out like a labradorbreeder.  Whatever that means.  Old sayings are quaint, but largely devoid of meaning.  Happy Saint David’s Day to all of Our UKian readers.  (And, by word association, to Our Ukranian readers, should We chance to have any readers in Ukrania.)  We are not exactly certain who Saint David is, and We were under the impression that Protestants didn’t have saints.    However, that may just be what they taught Us in Catholic school.   Lord knows (heh), they lied about everything else. 

In birthday wishes news, Happy Birthday to Brie, who turns twenty-four right here in The City Of Brotherly Love-Handles.  Also, Happy Birthday to Claudia, who also turns twenty-four today, in a suburb of The City Of Brotherly Love-Handles.  Also also, Happy Birthday to Justin, who also also turns twenty-four today, somewhere in New Jersey.  Part of which is a suburb of The City Of Brotherly Love-Handles, and part of which is a suburb of Manhattan.  The rest of it is Atlantic City and the Pine Barrens.  You think MATH is hard?  GEOGRAPHY is hard.

And, last but not Lee Strasberg, Happy Birthday to Devon, who turns twenty-four today all the way up in Greater Bostonia.  Devon is an actor/director, which is why We put that Lee Strasberg joke in there.  Because We’re topical that way.  Like a rash.

Speaking of actor/directors, please go and join Our SitOnOurFaceBook event here:

http://www.facebook.com/events/617567798260241/

In random other news, the gas bill We wanted to pay yesterday but could not find?  Arrived in yesterday’s mail.  We know you were concerned.

This just in from Our roving reporter, Debris Huxtable:  apparently, if you go to Google and type in “why do people h”, Google autosuggests “why do people hate Anne Hathaway”.

Which segues just as well as anything else to today’s topic, Sexism At The Oscars™:

The kerfuffle apparently continues over Oscar™ host Donny Osmond’s song “We Saw Your Boobs”.  (A second kerfuffle (can you tell that We love that word?) also continues among those who mistook the host for middle child Peter Brady.  We Our Own Self Personally are now aware that the host was neither Peter Brady nor Donny Osmond, but We still have no idea who the fuck he was, or what he had to do with the movies.)

Now, We are not one to throw gasoline on a kerfuffle fire, so We will not be reproducing said song here.  We will, however, show you something you might not have seen, a distaff response from the WorldWideInterWebnetz.  Ladies and Genitals, “We Saw Your Junk”:

As with the original, Our major objection to this is that it is a one-shot, ten-second joke stretched out over a minute and a half.  Which is not a long time on YouTube, but is an eternity on (inter)national television.  Add to that the fact that it was a part of the already-nine-hour-long opening, and it is a mystery to Us how it didn’t wind up on the cutting room floor.

However.

There are two arguments being advanced in opposition to the number which, in addition to teetering on the brink of insanity, also oil the kerfuffle’s slippery slope slide towards censorship and Saint-David-knows what else. (We are going to drag “kerfuffle” in here till you learn to love it as We do, so you might as well just relax and enjoy it.)

The first folks with their panties in a bunch are all like, “But many of those women whose boobs you saw were playing sexual abuse/rape victims!”

Well, yes.  Yes, they were.  Lettuce take the example of Jodie Foster in The Accused, whose character was indeed being violently raped when We allegedly saw her boobs.  (Note that We say “allegedly” because, although We most definitely saw The Accused, the thing We remember most about it is not whether We saw Jodie Foster’s boobs or not.)  The song says, “Jodie Foster, We saw your boobs”, much as a six-year-old might.  A simple statement of fact.  It does NOT, as the naysayers would have you believe, say, “Jodie Foster, when you were being gang-raped on the pool table, We saw your boobs, and that was really HAWTT!”

If it DID say that, We would certainly have a problem with it.  For the obvious reasons, as well as the fact that JODIE FOSTER was not being gang-raped on a pool table.  Jodie Foster’s CHARACTER was being gang-raped on a pool table.  Jodie Foster was doing her (Oscar™-winning) job, executing meticulous, well-rehearsed choreography, and premeditatedly exposing herself to whatever extent she had contractually agreed to prior to filming the movie, while preserving her personal modesty to whatever extent she had contractually negotiated.  If her boobs were shown, she agreed to show them, and We saw them.

This conflation of actor and character is deeply disturbing, especially when displayed by supposedly intelligent people in the industry.  It explains, parenthetically, why Miss Jane Hathaway has a Best Supporting Anorexic Oscar™:  voters were all like, “Awwww…she lost her job, and had to become a whore to support her child, and then she had to sell her hair, and her teeth, and to top it all off, she died.”  Um, no.  That was her CHARACTER, Pantene.  Miss Jane Hathaway had the cushiest job in that forty-seven hour movie,  because she was only onscreen for seventeen seconds, and only had to learn one song.  Jeebus.

The other argument being advanced by the anti-boob-seeing crowd is even more ludicrous, speaking as it does of the creation of a hostile work environment.  Seriously folks?   The aforementioned Miss Jane Hathaway came to the Oscars™ ceremony in a dress that was HELD ON by her nipples, even though she doesn’t have boobs.    Every woman in the place was displaying her boobs to their best advantage in whatever way possible.  Some of them had no doubt purchased boobs for the occasion.  And to try to equate the “workplace” of a Hollywood actress who agrees to show her boobs onscreen for millions of dollars to the workplace of an IHOP waitress whose boss corners her in the kitchen and demands to see her boobs so she can keep her job is, how you say, disingenuous at best.

We have not done the dramaturgy, but the song WOULD collapse under its own weight if any of the actors named therein had shown only ONE boob, in which case We would not have accurately saw “your boobS”.

And, of course, no mention of cinematic boobs would be complete without a mention of the greatest boob scene of all time, Dame Julie Andrews in SOB.  We tried and failed to find a YouTube clip of same, but trust Us.

Speaking of boobs, 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 .

Here are the HorrorScopes:

Also on the subject of boobs…er, biebs, it is Justin Bieber’s birthday, so naturally, here is Our Pisces video from last year in which he appears:

Try your best to open yourself up to the people in your life today (Oh, We are WIDE open.  Fully dilated, if you will.  Or even if you won’t…what makes you think it’s all about you?  Or about you at all?  WE’VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF YOU!!!)

— that’s what your energy is best at right now.  (You make it sound as though “Our energy” could do stuff on its own.  If so, can We go lie down?)

It could mean that you’ve got to push your own needs down on the priority list.   (Mmm-hmm. THAT could happen.   Right after We show you Our boobs.)

 The world’s energy is feeling quite a bit louder right now, and it might create some stress in your day.  (Okay, is it just Us, or is she now just randomly using the word “energy” to mean anything she wants it to mean?  It’s not like it’s “kerfuffle” or something.)

Don’t be surprised (SURPRISE!!!)

if you start feeling unusually introverted  (That always happens when We show Our boobs.)

— nothing will appeal to you more than crawling into bed and hiding away from the world.  (Well, We wouldn’t say NOTHING.  There’s always Johnny Depp covered in Hershey’s™ syrup.)

This isn’t necessarily a case of the blues, more like a case of the blahs.  (Also, not necessarily a case of the chartreuses, more like a case of the chanteuses.  (Okay, her way worked better…they can’t ALL be winners.))

Honor your feelings by trying to escape from the hubbub that is going on around you.  (It’s not a hubbub, it’s a KERFUFFLE!  Jeebus!  Try to pay attention.)

Find out if someone else can take on some of your hassles.  (Who handles David Hasselehoff’s hassles?  (It’s mental tangents like that that will probably keep Us from ruling the world.   Although We are still in the running for Pope.  And We have the hottest gown for the inaugural ball…it really shows off Our boobs.))

A little blood flow will boost your hotness factor.  (Fine…whom should We stab?)

(What?)

Who knows what kind of hottie you’ll attract? Some boob-lover with a death-wish, no doubt.)

(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.

                                                                                                                                     

Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for JustAnotherManateeMonday, November 19, 2012.  Happy belated birthday to Kathy, who turned twenty-four yesterday.  Also, happy also belated birthday to Jacquie, who also turned twenty-four also yesterday.  They are each, of course, twenty-four-and-a-day today, but We can’t think of a cunning linguistic way to wish them that.

The WorldWideInterWebNetz are a very strange place.  But then, you probably already knew that.  For example, on Twitter (where, We parentheticalized, We recently added Our 100^th follower, and, if you are not one of Our followers, you should be, because We twuly tweet some twemendous twaddle (did We really just do that?  We are SO sorry…))…where were We before We got caught up in parentheses?  Oh, yes…on Twatter…er, Twitter this morning, We learned that Cher?  Is going to the dentist today.  Also?  She is not looking forward to it.

Now, We don’t know about you (well, actually, We do…We’re psychic), but back in the day, when We were a wee ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulist) watching The Sonny and Cher Show on black and white TV, We never dreamed that someday, We would know when Cher was going to the dentist because of some omniscient machine in OurHouseWhereWeLive. (We dreamed, like all other normal children, that We would know when Cher was going to the dentist because We would be living next door to her, and, as she got into the limo in the morning, she would wave at Us over the hydrangea bushes and call out, “I’m off to the dentist this morning!  I’m not looking forward to it!” in that That’s-So-Cher way that she has, and We would know that, when she came back, she would come over for lunch and regale Us with wacky stories of what happened at the dentist’s while We ate Spaghetti-Os™.)

What?  We can’t help it that you had a dull childhood.  That’s what comes from having no imagination.

Switching gears completely (because there’s really only so much thinking-about-Cher’s-teeth that One can do when all One has had is black coffee), from The Sometimes You Don’t Even Need A Punchline Department, Justin Bieber’s date for the American Music Awards?  His mom.

Meanwhile, in a completely random aside:

Dear Str8 Boi Readers:

When you say “Fantasy Football”, We automatically picture a gay porn film set in a locker room.

KThxBye.

In still other news, today is apparently both Meg Ryan and Jodie Foster’s birthday.  Which is causing Us to imagine both Meg Ryan as Jodie Foster in The Jodie Foster Story AND Jodie Foster as Meg Ryan in The Meg Ryan Story. The latter being worth the price of admission for the When Harry Met Sally orgasm scene alone.

I’ll have what she’s having.

Of course, the question on every inquiring mind is, who should play Billy Crystal?

Here’s the HorrorScope:

(In other news, there is absolutely no humor to be mined from Indira Gandhi’s birthday.  Trust Us.)

You have got to move forward quickly — otherwise, things are likely to fly away from your control. (Ah, yes, the famous illusion that We have any control.)

 That doesn’t mean that you need to dominate,  (Domi-natrix, natrix, natrix…)

(That, of course, was to be sung to the tune of “Dominique”, that song by that singing nun called The Singing Nun.  Meanwhile, being An Inquiring Mind Who Wants To Know (no, really…who wants to know?), We just Googled “what  ever happened to…” on Wikipedia, and found out that she killed herself.  True fact.  Happy Monday.)

just that the future is more enticing than the past.  (It is also so bright, We’ve got to wear shades.)

You’re usually not a very impetuous person, (That’s because We don’t have any pets.)

(What?)

but would it do you any harm to act more spontaneously? (Fine.  We shall schedule that for 4:30 this afternoon.)

You can achieve your goals just as efficiently when you just run out and act on them. (What is this “run” of which you speak?)

There are only so many situations you can anticipate, so why try to cover all your bases? (Have you seen Our ass lately?  If we did indeed play baseball, We could, in fact, cover ALL the bases.)

 Right now you have positive energy on your side, and there’s an opportunity you just can’t pass up.  (It’s the one with the big knockers, innit?)

 Consider initiating contact with a certain hard-to-get type. (Yes, but what about that pesky restraining order?)

You’ve been assuming that they’re aloof, (How can One tell the difference between a loof and a loofah?)

but they really just might be shy. (Lord knows, We are.)

 Make it low-stakes and you’re likely to get the response you want.  (And, even if not, mmmm…steaks.)

                           

(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.