Operator? Information. Get me Jesus on the line.

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  WinesDay, August 28^st, 2013.

Happy Birthday to Johnny, who turns twenty-four today right here in The City Of Brotherly Love Handles.  Johnny is the third of Our Three Sons in the murder mystery.  (We say “third” only because he was the third of them that We met/worked with; We certainly love all of Our Three Sons equally, and we do not discriminate amongst them and their skinny jeans.)

It occurs to Us that We have waxed rhapsodic on the subject of Our Three Sons before (complete with an arcane Fred MacMurray reference), so, lest We repetitively and reiteratively repeat Ourself, We shall simply refer you to said rhapsodic waxation here: http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/07/we-are-si-mese-if-you-prease.html

Oh, and Happy Hump Day to the rest of all y’all. (We don’t suppose there’s any chance anybody would trundle over in mid-monsoon for a little hump?  (What hump?  (Oh, look: just Our luck, Marty Feldman is here. (Which is especially charming, as he’s been dead since 1982.))))

There is less than a day left on the KickStarter for Our Fringe show,  LOOKING FOR URANUS:  Starzina Starfish-Browne’s Comeback Tour , which can be found here:   

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/635878991/looking-for-uranus-starzina-starfish-brownes-comeb  

…so if you had planned to contribute, but haven’t yet, now is the time.  As of tomorrow, We shall shut up about it (except for thanking people profusely) and start exhorting (ooooohhhhh!!!!) you to buy tickets:

http://fringearts.ticketleap.com/looking-for-uranus-starzina-starfish-brownes-comeback-tour/#view=calendar

There is also a SitOnMyFaceBook event here: 

https://www.facebook.com/events/706806152678843/ for your convenience in sharing on that platform.

Our script, meanwhile, awaits finishing touches.  Also, an ending.  So We really need to hurry this along.

And here is the HorrorScope:

Well, never mind Leo Tolstoy and Johann von Goethe; move over, Jason Priestley and Emma Samms…it is Honey Boo Boo’s birthday!  Dear Lord Jeebus.

Communication needs to be short and sweet today — so make sure that you’re quick and to the point. (K.)

That can be easy in person, but make sure your writing is cut back as much as possible.  (Oh, great.  Way to inspire those finishing touches and that ending.  AssHat.)

You’ll be seeking injustice today, because you know what it feels like to be treated unfairly. (Get a fucking proofreader.  Jeebus.)

This compassion will force you to butt into a situation you feel isn’t right. (Have you SEEN Our butt lately?  Honey, if We “butt in” to a situation, that pretty much guarantees the end of the situation, its participants, and most of the innocent bystanders. K?)

Friends will admire your principled ways and call you a hero when you stop a silly situation from rapidly growing into a heated argument. (Being An Inquiring Mind Who Wants To Know (no, really: who wants to know?), We are now wondering what differentiates a heated argument from a reheated argument, or a preheated argument?)

(It isn’t easy being Us.  Or green.  One of those.)

Though you strive to avoid conflict, you simply can’t ignore this one.  (Sorry…did you say something?)

Besides, it feels good to fight for the little guy.  (Especially if he is wearing skinny jeans.  And carrying a big stick.)

You’ve got the number (69?)

— now make the call! (Order before midnight tonight and receive a free set of Ginsu steak knives.!  For all that Ginsu steak you eat!  You fucking pig!)

(Micro$oft Weird™ has put a green squiggly line under “You fucking” in the preceding sentence, meaning that it believes something is amiss with the grammar therein.  As improvements to said grammar, it offers the suggestions “You fuck”, “You are fucking”, and “You were fucking”.  Thanks, Micro$oft Weird™.  You fuck.)

Consider what you want to say for no longer than one minute and then pick up that phone. (Hey, this script business would go a lot faster if We could dick-tate it to somebody over the phone…any takers?)

 If you’re feeling oddly shy, (Oh, We are.  Demure, even.)

an email can get your message across. (Oh, please.  We actually mailed a LETTER the other day.  We sure hope it’s gotten there by now.)

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://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.

                                                                                                                                     

One tin soldier rides away

Greetings, Eventful Reinvention Implements Content----

Here is your horoscope for Thursday, November 11, 2010 (Happy Veterans Day.  In honor of the holiday, which is very irritatingly occurring in the middle of the week and preventing Our trash from being collected, We bring you an Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus C’est La Guerre Mon Frere Derrière Camembert Au Pair Frigidaire of a soldier who has clearly not read the fine print of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.   Also, happy birthday to OurCathy, who turns twenty-four today.  Presumably NOT in a red tutu, although One can never be sure.) :

(Micro$oft Weird™ would like Us to know that the sentence beginning “In honor of the holiday…” in the preceding paragraph is long, and that We should consider revising it. Hey, War and Peace is long, but We’ll bet Micro$oft Weird™ wasn’t all up Tolstoy’s @ss about revising it.  Shut up, Mcro$oft Weird™.)

(Y’all are thinking about Tolstoy’s @ss now, aren’t you?  Y’all are perverts.)

 (Our-O-Scopes:)

To say that your personal magnetism is running on high would be unfair, and not entirely accurate. (Indeed.  If, by “not entirely accurate”, you mean “blatantly false”.)

The truth is, you're far more powerful than a magnet (We’re pretty sure that’s supposed to be “more powerful than a locomotive”.  Also, faster than a speeding bullet, and able to leap tall buildings in a single ballgown.  (Hey, you have YOUR superpowers, We’ll have Ours.))

because you won't repel anyone, (Not even a leper.)

(Does ANYBODY see what We did there?)

no matter which direction you turn toward. (Is it just Us, or is this really dull today?)

Keep that in mind before you casually begin flirting.  (Or farting.  Just sayin’.)

It's all good -- life, love and the fire burning brightly between you and your current squeeze. (Our only squeeze is a toothpaste tube.  Sigh.)

This is cause for celebration. (Hey, We’ll celebrate the opening of an envelope.  (Speaking of which, it occurs to Us that, if your birthday is on Veterans Day, you don’t get any birthday cards in the mail.  Sigh.))

A little hide-and-seek under the covers, maybe?  (Sigh.  Clearly, this is ten of the dullest horoscopes ever.)

(Sigh.)

Tough as it may be to resist, don't try to force anyone to do your bidding. (We wouldn’t even know where to begin.)

 Even if they buckle in to your demands, you won't feel good about it.  (On the other hand, Our demands will be buckled to, and Our bidding will be done.  How bad could We feel?)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

Sing me Spanish techno

Greetings, Ebullient Regis Introduces Charo---


Here is your horoscope for Friday, June 04, 2010 (Today’s Eric’s Daily Horoscope is essentially just a follow-up to yesterday’s, so if you didn’t read (or only n@kedly skimmed) that, We’ll pause here while you go catch up. (Something tells Us We lost Our str8 boi readers at the Eric’s Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus Mon Frere Jacques Brel Is Alive And Well And Living In Hello Kitty Carlisle.) If it were (subjunctively) NOT just a follow-up to yesterday’s horoscope, We would have to tell you what is really p1ssing Us off, and that would require enough backstory to fill a novel co-written by Tolstoy and Dickens. (That novel, for those inquiring minds who would like to know, would be entitled War and Peace, and Then Some More War, followed by A Short Period of Peace (Without Prosperity), Then A Lengthy War Between Two Countries Where Everybody Has the Same Last Name, Then A Little More Peace, Oh, And There Are Orphans.)) :


(It’s a long way to Litter Airy.)


(You will first recall Us petting Our peeve yesterday (did that sound dirty to you?) about people defrienditizing Us on SitOnMyFaceBook, and daring all y’all to dare Us to post a link to Our heavily petted peeve on the SitOnMyFaceBook pages of three people who have recently subjected Us to defrienditization. We were, in fact, thus dared (thanks, Dena!), but it turns out that, if you aren’t someone‘s friend, you can’t post on their page. (We could send them a private message, but We were much more interested in PUBLIC heavy peeve petting. Sigh.))


(You will Seconal recall that Our Neighbor Who Plays The Drums has embarked on some extremely noisy course of Home Improvement involving drills, jackhammers, and hydrogen bombs, (but not, presumably, Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s tool). The adventure continued again today, with the cacophony once again commencing at eight o’clock in the g0dd@mn morning. Our neighbor is not, however, committing this atrocity his own self. No, he has hired an entire family of spickerdoodles to bang his drum slowly (and whack his piñata loudly) while cavorting upon the newly-erected scaffolding (yes, boyzzz and gurrrlzz, We said “scaffolding”; it looks like the fu(king French Revolution over here.) So, in addition to Our primary complaint (about the G0DD@MN NOISE, in case you weren’t listening (or had gone deaf)), We have several other issues: why did the hydrogen bombing have to begin at eight AM, when it was over by 8:30? Why is the front of OurHouseWhereWeLive cordoned off with crime scene tape, which encircles Our recycling bin as well, thereby ensuring that the trash monkeys will never collect Our trash? Is it unsafe to step outside Our house? If We do, will We be headwhacked (“headwhacked” is, of course, a word analogous to “bushwhacked”, except it means “to be whacked in the HEAD”) and put into a coma? And, if We DO wind up in a coma, will anyone be able to tell? But, most importantly, why, if One is forced to deal with this entire situation, can the Latinos toiling shirtlessly in the sun not resemble Ricky Martin or a young Antonio Banderas, instead of Dora the Explorer’s ugly older brother, Quasimodo (who was not even good enough to be a real Modo)?)


(Okay, that, there, was a whole lotta pop culture and wordplay goin’ on. But no rest for the weirdoes…)


(Our Our-O-Scope.)


Telling you to lighten up would be easy (Telling Us to wear blackface for the rest of the day, on the other hand, would be a rittle bit lacist. (But probably pretty funny. Especially if We rode the subway.))


-- unfortunately, at the moment, you won't be able to pull that off. (No, right now, We’re typing. We’ll pull one off a little later.)


So rather than pretending that the current state of affairs isn't bothering you, do just the opposite. (Pretend that the current fate of the stairs is bothering Us? What does that even MEAN?)


Wallow in the unfairness of it all. (Oh, please. Like We need to be encouraged.)


Then get up tomorrow and start over. (Well, at least We’d like to HOPE that, on a Saturday, the Frito Bandito and Sancho Pansy will be siesta-ing somewhere, instead of blowing things up in Our neighborhood.)


No, you never expected to actually be attracted to someone like him/her (We did, however, expect to have a clearer understanding of what its gender was.)


-- but it happened. (Didja ever notice how difficult it is, once things have happened, to get them to unhappen? There’s probably a reason why “unhappen” isn’t a word.)


Don't fight it. (See discussions earlier this week re: The Funk.)


It's exhilarating, and such fun to see your loved ones squirm! (Just wait till We borrow Juan Valdez’s jackhammer!)






(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:






http://www.humorscope.com




Ai-yi-yi-yi, I am the cowgrass bandito)