Don’t worry; be happy

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for FridayFridayFridayKissUsQuickWe’reRebeccaBlack(WhoIsClearlyNoJustinBieber(HerDickIsBigger)), March 30, 2012.  Happy birthday to Mark, who turns twenty-four today.  Also, happy birthday to Aileen, who also turns twenty-four today.  Also also, happy birthday to any friends of yours whom We do not know, who happen to be turning twenty-four today.  Why’n’t’cha go drop this link http://youtu.be/jy65nirv_BM 

 on their SitOnMyFaceBook pages and wish ‘em happy birthday from Us?

In addition to all of the above happiness, Happy National Cleavage Day to all of Our str8 boi (and lesbian) readers.  No, We are not making that up.

If you go and look at the following, and donate, you could be the one who puts these fine young gentlemen over their KickStarter goal, as they are just one pubic hair’s breadth away.  Which is fortunate because, at least in Mister Bieber’s case, that one pubic hair is all he’s got.  We know; We’ve seen it.  And trust Us, it cannot be unseen.  He’s got a little ribbon tied on the end of it.  And a couple of beads. Stupid little white boy, trying to go all Rastafarian with one pubic hair.  Somebody needs to tell him there is no singular of “dreadlocks”.

(You do realize that you’ve just spent the last thirty seconds of your life thinking about Justin Bieber’s pubic hair?  Good thing it’s FridayFridayFriday.)

In case Our digression confused you, this is the KickStarter in question:

Here, meanwhile, are several WaitStaff sketches to pass the time while you are waiting for the weekend:

And have We mentioned Our latest video?  http://youtu.be/jy65nirv_BM 

This just in:   SitOnMyFaceBook has come out AGAINST suicide.  We feel better already.

And here is a HorrorScope:

You need to clean and organize today (All things considered, We’d rather queen and euthanize.)

— at home, at work or maybe just your car.  (We already have the last two so organized, you’d never know they’re there.)

Things should feel a lot better if you can find a way to clear out some clutter and make room for something new.  (Things would feel even better than that if We could make room for something nude.)

Your intuition has been very keen lately, (That’s what We’ve been thinking.)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

(Oh, shut up.)

and you’ve sensed that someone close to you is approaching a breaking point. (And We’ll be right there to pick up the penises…er, pieces.)

So you won’t be surprised (SURPRISE!)

by a sudden emotional outburst today. (Nobody expects the Spanish Emotional Outburst.)

(That joke worked better yesterday.  No, really.  Go look.  We’ll wait.)

(See?)

Try to be there for this person as much as you can — spend some time listening to and talking with her or him. (Why would We waste time with somebody if We can’t even tell what gender they are?)

Just by being there and presenting a calm, sympathetic demeanor, (Where the FUCK are We gonna get one of those?)

you can show a friend that things are not quite as bad as they may seem.  (They’re actually much, much worse.)

Can you just be friends after dating? (How the hell would We know?)

No, it didn’t work out in the bedroom, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start anew. (A new what?)

You and this person have more in common than you think — it’s a matter of redefining the relationship and the expectations. (Great.)

(Yesterday, Ibsen jokes; today, a Dickens joke.  Next week, dirty limericks with Marcel Proust.)

 

 (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!)

                            

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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.

Pretty legs, great big kn0ckers; Honey, these are real showstoppers

Greetings, Etch-a-sketch™ Retraces Indelible Charcoal---

Here is your horoscope for Monday, August 16, 2010 (And a very happy Monday to all of Our drones and dronettes!  Shoulders to the wheel, noses to the grindstone, nipples to the wind, and titz akimbo! (It strikes Us, all sudden-like, that Titz Akimbo would be an excellent drag name for someone.  Especially if said someone’s titz were, ya know, akimbo. (Speaking of drag queens, from the It’s A Small Whirled Drafty Hall Department, We (and the WaitStaff) will be performing at a fundraiser at the World Café Live this Sunday, raising funds for a friend’s short fillum.  (Because We are The Sort Of Person who knows people who make fillums.  About shorts.  (Or in their shorts.  (One of those.)))  Now here’s the Small Whirled part:  We shall be sharing the stage with Miss Navaya Shay and Miss Cherry Pop!  AND their loose lip-synching ships!  Talk about up your cr@ck without a piddle!  Check out the festivities here: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001248400015#!/event.php?eid=136408703056751&ref=ts ))):

(We Our Own Selves Personally shall be performing the following monolog, which is way, way funnier live:

)

(Meanwhile, in remembrances of this weekend past (kiss Us quick, We’re Marcel Proust (and a very special good morning to the one of you who got THAT (yes, Ovella, We knew it was you))), We watched Our Selves a fillum:  Sherlock Holmes, Super Action Hero.  Now, while We were certainly pleased to see Mister Robert Downey Jr. spending fully half of a Victorian period piece stripped to the waist and engaging in fisticuffs, We were gravely dismayed that We live in a country that so loves stupidity and distrusts anyone intelligent that the filmmakers felt compelled to turn Sherlock Holmes…Sherlock Holmes, fercrissakes!...into an asskicking thug.  Of course, this is the same country where some milch cow who couldn’t even be bothered finishing out her term as governor of the North Pole feels free to roll her eyes on camera when a constituent tells her that she is a teacher, because, ya know, book-learning is evil, you betcha, and smart people are bad.  Sigh.)

(In other news, those with perpetually twisted knickers might want to check out some facts from time to time:  http://www.aolnews.com/nation/article/name-that-mosque-ground-zeros-other-neighbors/19590651?sms_ss=facebook )

 (Our Our-O-Scope:)

Hopefully, (Hopelessly demoted to poo…Olivia Fig Newton Jawn.)

you've been diligent with your workout schedule, (Well, we’ve been indigent, and We’ve gone digital…does that count? (Those of you whose minds went directly to the gutter for “gone digital”…sit right here next to Us.))

and you've taken all your vitamins. (We don’t go for booze and pills on Broadway.)

You'll need all the energy you can muster (And all the mustard you can energize…(Pardon Us; do you have any grey poop on?))

to handle the constant attention you can expect from a minimum of one ardent admirer, (Well, a minimum of one is better than a minimum of none.  But not by much.  (Math is HARD!))

two well-meaning friends (Who just happen to be Siamese twins.)

and a host of new fans.  (What We’ve got here is either the pilot for a 70s sitcom or a Merv Griffin game show.)

You just can't seem to stop replaying that comment they made over and over in your mind. (“Your daughter’s pregnancy brings much happiness to our village”…why did he SAY that?  WHY???)

It's time to figure out why. (Dunno why… there’s your son up in the sky…Norman Mailer…)

(What?)

You're in what's technically known as an overexuberant state of mind (Now, see, here’s a little-known piece of music trivia…that was actually Billy Joel’s original lyric, until the first time he sang it in concert and his teeth fell out.  Now he’s an old bald Jewish guy.  How did that happen?)

-- which means your audience, believe it or not, may be less than enthusiastic. (Well, considering you only promised Us a minimum of one, who cares?)

Dial it down, just a touch. (Is a touch more or less than a notch?  Also, which is bitchier, a bitch or a witch?  Inquiring minds Jacques Cousteau.)

Sharpen up your pencils (They’ll come in handy for poking when milch cows roll their eyes at you.)

and make sure you've got lots of legal pads handy. (We Our Own Self Personally prefer maxi legal pads. The go better with Our disposable legal briefs.)

Taking care of business (And workin’ overtime?)

is the name of the game (Then it’s a g0ddamn shame some of Us are playin’ Old Maid, ain’t it?)

-- and you're ready to play. (Ball?)

(Heh.  See what We did there?)

(Your Euro-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com

raise your hand, raise your hand if you’re cowgrass)