C’mon, Baby, do the locomotion

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for ToothDay, January Twenty-Tooth, ToothOwsandThirteen.  (If you think We’re carrying this “tooth” motif any farther (further?), you can bite Us.)

(Heh.  SWWDT?)

“The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook.”…Julia Child

Just thought We’d throw that in there, apropos of nussing.

Meanwhile, in Our dreams (yes, yes, We know We’re not supposed to bore you by telling you about them. (Is it more, or less, boring to tell you about how We’re not telling you about them? Inquiring minds want to…well, actually, inquiring minds don’t give a shit.)), We have started editing the scripts.  For example, in one dream last night, We were visiting someone, and We changed his boyfriend into somebody more attractive to Us, to make the dream more interesting.  In a second (more complicated) dream, We wound up totally changing a major plot point right near the end, because the whole thing was becoming too bogged down in details.  Who do We need to blow to get a job at HBO?

(That last bit was a song lyric, no?)

Okay, We’re done with dreams.  And Our waking life is equally boring.  Also, Bay-Bee, it’s cold outside.  Or at least, so They tell Us.  We may find out when We go to the Eye-talian Market later.  (If they would lettuce purchase an actual Eye-talian, We might not leave OurHouseWhereWeLive till the Spring thaw.)

Here is a little Aquarius fillum, for Our birthday Aquarians:

And here are the HorrorScopes:

The best celebrity birthday We can come up with today is Piper Laurie.  Well, Piper Laurie and Sir Francis Bacon.  If Piper Laurie married Sir Francis Bacon, she’d be Lady Piper Laurie Bacon.  (That’s not a joke, just an observation.  (You can tell it’s not a joke, because it’s not funny.  (The jokes are the funny bits.)))

To make up for the preceding, here is a picture of Kevin Bacon naked:

(Oh, yeah, right.  Like We were gonna post the shower picture from Wild Things, and get thrown the hell out of Bloggonia.)

You are feeling a strong urge to express yourself in a new way — so get to it!  (Assuming (thereby making you think of Uma Thurman’s ass (albeit NOT showing you a picture of it)) that We were correct in that yesterday’s fart joke was Our first fart joke of 2013, the preceding sentence would be (you guessed it) Number Two.)

(Heh.  We said “Number Two”.)

You may find that your energy is perfect for something new and unique, (A nap, for example.)

and there’s no time like the present.  (Now, that’s not entirely true.  The past used to be quite like the present.  The future will, eventually, be much like the present as well.  So, essentially, Kelli, you are talking out of Uma Thurman’s ass.)

(Have We ever determined a sensible reason why Micro$oft Weird™ would recognize “Thurman” as a word, but not “Uma”?  (It’s quite clear why it recognizes “ass”.))

 You might not be in the midst of a sizzling affair, (Ya think?)

but there is certainly something exciting brewing between you and another person. (What’d’We, miss something?)

Someone is on exactly the same page with you, (Is it just Us, or does that sound a little more creepy than she probably intended it?)

either in a professional or social situation, and today brings you an opportunity to connect with them on a whole new level. (In the parking garage of Life. (Does anybody have any idea what da fuq Kelli is talking about?))

It might be up to you to get the conversation going, but once you do, the other person will drive most of the talking — and you’ll start to feel like you’ve known them all your life.  (Dr-dr-dr-drive talkin’ (Kiss Us quick, We’re a BeeGee.))

There is immense potential for motion in your love life right now  (Is it possible to even HAVE a love life without motion?  (Our Own Personal love life needs an enema.))

(Micro$oft Weird™ is suggesting that We replace “enema” with “enemy”.  Micro$oft Weird™ is fucked up.)

— so how do you want to get moving?   (Let’s jus’ mix up some Ex-Lax™ wit’ Our crack…)

Be active about rearranging events and you might end up with something really hot now.  (Well, if you rearrange “events”, you get “Steven”.   So who’s Steven, and how hot is he?)

 (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.

                                                                                                                                    

Let’s get physical, physical

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for  WinesDay, August 15, 2012.  Happy Julia Child’s 100^th Birthday!  Bon appétit!  We feel as though We should eat something in her honor.  Possibly on toast points.  Although, as it is also Hump Day, mayhaps We should hump something in her honor.  Decisions, decisions.

While We were attempting to decide what or whom to eat or hump, We just went off and had a ginormous poop.  We felt you needed to know that.  You’re welcome.

Said poop was so epic that it caused Us to think up a saying, which We are fairly certain, per some Googling on Wikipedia, is original:  “He is so full of shit, he could use a second asshole”.  Coincidentally, Mitt Romney has chosen a running mate.

Meanwhile, We still have nothing to report.  As you may have inferred from all the poop talk. And, try though We may, We cannot figure a way to work the word “scuttlebutt” into this sentence. (In addition to the obvious scatological pun, that last bit contained some existential humor for Our Zen Buddhist readers. (That sound you are hearing?  Is the sound of one hand clapping. ( Erasers.)))

We are, however, looking forward to a jam-packed, fun-filled, fudge-packed, jam-filled weekend.  We have the last two days of shooting on Our student fillum on Friday and Saturday, and then We play The Match Game  on Sunday.  Speaking of The Match Game,  We had a nightmare about it last night.  In fact, We had a series of very distinct nightmares, one after the other, with a few minutes of wakefulness in between.  It was like watching NBC’s Must-See TV back in the 90s.  (Is NBC still on the air?  Anybody?  Beuller?)

And here is Our new-and-improved The Match Game blurb:

Everyone’s favorite sketch comedy troupe The WaitStaff will be doing two Very Special Preview Performances of their Fringe show, The Real Housewives of South Philly Play The Match Game!, on Sunday, August 19 at 7 and on Thursday, August 23 at 7:30 at L’Etage.  SitOnMyFaceBook events have more info here http://www.facebook.com/events/431133030262749/ and here http://www.facebook.com/events/485179294844645/ and tickets are available here: 

http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/265032

The contestants for these performances will be artists from other (funny) Fringe shows:

 SUNDAY AUGUST 19  7PM

John D'Alonzo (Ivona, Princess of Burgundia)

Kristin Finger (ComedySportz)

Bill McKinlay ( Alphabet Plays)

Greg Nix (Jeff Coon and Ben Dibble Must Die)

Sarah Schol (Raw Stitch)

Paul Triggiani (Grimacchio Variety Hour)

THURSDAY AUGUST 23 7:30

Darryl Charles (ComedySportz)

Jeff Soles (Wawapalooza 6)

Steve Mclean (Fringe Wraiths)

Jefrey Wilkerson (I Hate Monologues)

Viva La Fringe!

Here’s the HorrorScope:

Sorry, everybody else whose birthday is today, but Julia Child’s 100^th trumps your ass.  Ben Affleck…is he even still a thing?  Rose Marie…dead?  Alive?  Who knows?  Who cares?  Joe Jonas…who?  (That last bit was unfair.  We are aware that the age of Our Gentle Readers skews a bit older than the general populace, so, for those who don’t follow pop culture and boi bandz, We shall explain to you that Joe Jonas is the Hanson brother who used to be in Menudo, but is now in One Direction, which is the group from the all-boys school that Kurt went to briefly last season on Glee. You’re welcome.)

You are the instigator today, (Okay, now We want Our very Own TV show entitled The Instigator.  But NOT on NBC.  Because nobody knows if they’re still on or not.)

even if that just means you’re stirring up the muck in your family. (Or the fuck in your mamily.  One of those.)

That can be a really good thing, though it may be pretty dicey at first. (“Dicey” is an odd word, no?  Just a letter away from “dickey”, and yet not at all the same.  Not to mention “dykey”…)

Try your best to keep it civil!  (Like the war?)

Try to fit more physical activity into this day. (Did We mention We RAN last weekend?  God alone knows what The Young People will make Us do THIS weekend.)

Take the stairs, park at the far end of the lot, or maybe just dance around the kitchen. (We shall watusi.)

(Now THERE’S a sentence ya don’t see every day.)

Getting your blood pumping will serve as a great outlet for all the energy that you might not know what to do with. (Yeah, well, We’re gonna need to find an energy INLET first.)

Getting active with your body (Lemme hear your body talk, your body talk…Our body says, “Fuck you!”)

(A little Olivia Newton-John humor by way of Bette Midler. (Gay, dear? Who, dear? Us, dear?  No, dear.))

also encourages you to get active in your brain. (And We certainly need more of THAT.)

And who knows? (The Shadow?)

(We would just like to state, for the record, that We are NOT old enough to actually remember The Shadow, ThankYouVeryMuch.)

 That extra half hour in your workout could stir up a bevy of new ideas (We are fairly certain that “bevy” is not the correct collective noun for “ideas”.  We have no idea (heh), however, what is.)

in your mind and give you a strong sense of possibility.  (As opposed, of course to a strong sense of possumbility, which alerts One to One’s proximity to a possum.)

The past exists to teach us lessons so that we avoid pitfalls in the present and create a better future. (Actually, the past exists because it’s happened already.  Dumbass.)

(Micro$oft Weird™ would like Us to know that, even though it recognizes “Dumbass” as a word, “Dumbass.” is a sentence fragment.  Thank you, Micro$oft Weird™.  Dumbass.)

So it’s perfectly fine to be reflective today about relationship ghosts.  (Especially if you’re Mrs. Muir.  (Shaddup!))

Just don’t dwell on Memory Lane for too long. (What about Wisteria Lane?)

 

(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.

                                                                                                                                    

Theme from Jaws

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for ToothDay, July 10, 2012. A new survey reveals that five percent of Canadians are gay.  Clearly, this survey is flawed, as everyone knows that ALL Canadians are lesbians.  In other news, all Englishmen are gay. No Frenchmen are gay, but they will all fuck guys.  And didja hear the one about the Polish lesbian?  She liked men.

Ba-DUMP-bump.

As you can tell, We are a little distraught this morning.  We emailed yesterday’s restaurant review to the restaurant reviewed therein, and never heard a peep out of them.  Typed Our fingers to the bone, We did.  Sigh.

In other news, Our apologies to everyone who was affected by the hackage of Our email account.  If it’s not one thing, it’s your mother.

Yesterday was jam-packed and fun-filled; today, We got nothin’.

Speaking of fudge-packed and jam-filled, the WaitStaff will be playing The Match Game on Friday, July 13 and Saturday, July 14, at 7:30, at L’Etage.  The SitOnMyFaceBook event is here: http://www.facebook.com/events/234467316672300/, but since YouPeople pay no attention to Us whatsoever, We shall just simply tell you here in big, bold letters that Our Sistah Ovella (aka BOB MASON) will be playing Charles Nelson Reilly this time around.  So get your tickets NOW, HERE:    http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/255809 .  Be there, or be BLANK.)

Here’s the HorrorScope:

Oh, sure, NOW We find out that it’s Jessica Simpson’s birthday.  When all the good gifts are no doubt already spoken for.

You are getting the party started early today (You have clearly confused “party” with “potty”.)

— even if it means sneaking back home at lunch or otherwise tricking the powers that be. (Have you SEEN the powers that be?  Who the hell would turn tricks with these people?)

Your energy just can’t be contained, (BAZINGA!!!)

(Sorry.)

so make sure that you’re out there!  (We are so far out there, We are practically in here.)

(We have no idea what that means.)

Today’s going to start off as a very calm day, with nary a ripple on the water’s proverbial surface.  (Yeah.  Write Us a fucking haiku about it, why don’t’cha?)

But as the day goes on, (And on, and on.)

there will be lots of activity right under that surface. (Plankton, no doubt.  (You never see a movie about killer plankton.  One wonders why not.))

Sharks are swimming down there, and while they don’t have specific designs on taking a chunk out of your flesh, they do have some ulterior motives for their sweet-sounding ideas. (We were just talking about sharks earlier, on the InterNetz.  Sharks on bicycles, actually. (Don’t ask.))

Ask questions. (Why?)

(See what We did there?)

(Heh.  That was another one.)

Probe deeper. (That’s what she said.)

Discover the true motivations of people today, (Do We have to?)

and you’ll be able to stick to safe waters.  (“Safe waters”?  Do you know what fish DO in water?  To say nothing of sharks.  Especially on bicycles.)

(No, really: say NOTHING.)

Turn the flame down low and let stuff simmer a bit. (Listen to you, Julia Fucking Child.)

(Was that pedophilia just then?)

You’ll notice something or someone you’ll miss if you’re in full-on working it mode.  (Sorry…did you say something?)

And by tonight, the stars start heating things up for you.   (So wait…We don’t have to make Our Own dinner?)

(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.

Julie, Julie, Julie, do ya love me?

Greetings, Eisenhower Returns, Impersonating Clown---

Here is your horoscope for Monday, August 09, 2010 (Gee, in hindsight, We wouldn’t have chosen today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Faux Pas Coup De Grace Mardi Gras Evelyn Waugh if We had thought any of all y’all might be afraid of clowns.  Heh. Heh. Heh.):

(In other news, Happy Birthday In Retrospect to TCBITWWW, who turned twenty-four over the weekend.  On Sunday, not Saturday.  Not that that part matters now, but still.)

(So let’s talk for a moment about Julia Child.  (If you guessed that, over the weekend, We watched Julie and Julia, you would be correct.)  Here is a woman who, in her younger days, did some manner of espionage in World War II, and who then, later in life, single-handedly invented and popularized the television cooking show.  So, in making a movie about her, why on earth would you ever choose to focus on the years in between the above, when she pretty much didn’t do anything?  Now, this is not to detract from the performance of Ms. Streep, who is creepily, Streepily on target as the aforementioned Ms. Child, or Stanley Tucci, who plays her heretofore unknown husband to perfection.  However, the modern-day Julie, some pathetic blogger who decides to cook everything in Julia’s cookbook, made Our fist fairly itch to punch her in her face until she choked on her own teeth.  Oh, and she had a husband, too.  Who was largely a waste of airspace. Don’t quit your day job, knuckledragger.)

(Hmm.  Apparently, “knuckledragger” is not a word.  Who knew?  And yet, We are still going to offer some writing advice to Ms Nora Ephron and company.  Throw out all the modern day crap, write some script about Julia’s espionage days, and then her television career, and don’t shoot a single frame of film that doesn’t include Ms. Streep and/or Mister Tucci.)

(Why We don’t have  job in Hollyweird, We’ll never know.)

 (Our Our-O-Scope:)

Don't use ink when you're filling in your social calendar. (Wait…We have a social calendar?)

Whatever you think you'll be doing definitely won't come to pass, (Don’t you know who We think We are?)

but it certainly won't be for lack of trying on your part. (Also, clearly, it will not be for lack of trying Our patience.)

This is one of those times when it's best to remember that variety is the spice of life.  (Is it just Us, or could that sentence have ended with any old cliché One happened to choose, and appear to appear just as meaningful while being totally meaningless?  For example, try replacing “variety is the spice of life” with “a bitch in time saves nine”, or “it’s no use shutting the barn door after they’ve already bought the cow because they were crying over the spilt milk they got for free” or “nothin’ says lovin’ like somethin’ from the oven, and Pillsbury does it best”.  See?)

Restraining yourself may be tough, (You have no idea.)

but it will definitely be easier than the apologies you'll need to make if you let it fly. (Honey, if you let it fly PROPERLY, there’ll be no one left to apologize TO.)

(Why, yes, We DID just end a sentence with a preposition.  And now We’re gonna end one with a PROPosition: go fu(k yerself.)

Hold your breath, (Till you turn blew? (Hmm…wonder if that would actually work?))

if need be. (Subjunction, junction, what’s your function?)

(Why, yes.  Yes, that WAS a little Schoolhouse Rock. Because We are old, d@mmit, now you kidz get off Our lawn.)

Just when you thought it was safe to come out, (Oh, please.  Were We ever in?  We are gayer than an episode of Glee getting fu(ked up the @ss with Liberace’s Christmas tree.)

friends are starting to take bids on how long you'll be able to manage the balancing act you've been juggling.  (Balancing and juggling are two different acts.  Just so ya know.  And pretty much mutually exclusive, also.  So next time, think for a minute before ya just let random cr@p spew out your piehole.  Who do you think you are, Us?)

Is it truly impossible to serve two masters? (Probably not, but all that leather cr@p just makes Us giggle.  How does the S&M crowd manage to take any of that stuff seriously?)

Maybe not -- but it will become eminently clear to you now that it's certainly not easy to pull off. 

(And yet, pulling off is the one thing in Our life that still IS…oh, never mind.  Sigh.)

(Your Euro-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com

it takes two hands to handle a cowgrass)