Showing posts with label Orville Wright. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Orville Wright. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Though We may not agree today, in time, mais oui, We may




Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for WinzDee, December 5, 2012.  Happy Birthday to Katie, who turns twenty-four today. And Happy Hump Day to the rest of you, who are apparently turning tricks.


We shot the Capricorn/Christmas e-pissode of Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope yesterday as planned.  While it is not so much a departure as Our recent French New Wave effort, We guarantee you will never look at a rum ball the same way again.


Speaking of Our recent French New Wave effort, that is Eet above, and if you haven’t watched it yet, pourquoi? Also, please to Cher it with your friends, Cherie Lewis, using zis linque: http://youtu.be/6f1m5GLfk1Y


Apropos l’above (and you can relax now; We have used up all ze Frawnch We know), it is brought to Our attention from time to time that We really know a good number of amazingly talented and creative people.  And that We don’t get to spend nearly enough time with them.  And that, if We got them all focused on the same thing, We could rock the world.  Or, alternatively, knock it off its axis and send it spiraling into the sun.


(Is it just Us, or does that sound like an artsy-fartsy version of Mrs. O’Leary’s cow?  Mais oui call it “Mrs. O’Leary’s lemur”?  Oui mais.)


In other news, We are exhausted this morning, possibly from the fact that We had not one, but TWO epic saga dreams last night.  In the first, the Evil Acquiring Company which used to employ Us had been converted into a concentration camp, where they didn’t so much kill people, but instead, drove them mad.  Why We needed an entire dream to play out what is basically their Annual Report, We haven’t got any idea.  Mercifully, We are old, and needed to pee, which put an end to that nonsense.


Next, We had a very lovely dream in which We visited Salem, and saw Our friends who live there (and a number of friends who don’t, but, hey…better than Auschwitz).  We stayed in a hotel that doesn’t exist, and saw attractions that aren’t there.  We also rented a bicycle, although We don’t seem to remember riding it. If riding a bicycle is like riding a bicycle, and you never forget it, how did We forget that?  We were just about to extend Our stay by a day when We realized We should call the non-existent hotel, but We couldn’t remember Our room number.


Then We woke up.


Today’s efforts will include a number of Christmas-related errands (We cannot recall ever being so ill-prepared) and a focus group in the afternoon, which is supposed to be two hours long, and good luck on keeping Us focused.


Meanwhile, this just in from Helen Keller on Twitter (Why, yes, We DO follow Helen Keller on Twitter; thanks for asking.):  

I lost my dog! $50 Reward. He responds to 'agajwuubaaab'.

Hahaha apparently my dog died 2 years ago, I've just been feeding an empty bowl this whole time.

Just found out dog biscuits aren't that bad.


And here’s the HorrorScope:

In other news, We think it’s Werner Heisenberg’s birthday, but We’re not certain.

(Okay, physics jokes, people…just shoot Us now.)

You should push yourself a little harder and see if you can get more exercise than usual today — your body craves action!  (True dat, Boo.)

It may be as simple as taking the stairs (Taking them where?)

or as complex as joining a new gym.  (Jim who?)

Although the weather outside may be frightful, (The Chicago Fire is so delightful.)

(“Mrs. O’Leary’s lemur”.  Heh.  We kill Us.)

getting some physical exercise would be oh-so-delightful! (Watching other people get some physical exercise would be okay, too.)

 There is nothing better than huffing and puffing to put a smile on your face. (Okay, We’re gonna wait here while you re-read that sentence.  Slowly.  Three times. )

(Now insert your own joke here.  (Why should We do all the work?))

It’s time to do whatever it takes to get your heart pumping and cheeks rosy — dancing, jogging, walking, or roller skating! (Rumbaing, Roomba™ing, rumballing…)

Grab a friend or two, (How rude!)

and you’re sure to have much more fun. (Than what?)

 Tag football or a pick-up game of basketball will help you feel like a winner. (Or a wiener.)

Make that a healthy winner!  (Or a healthy wiener.)

This person seems absolutely right for you in so many ways. (Mmm-hmm.  He’s Orville, Wilbur, AND Frank Lloyd.  That’s why everything’s going so swimmingly.)

Not so fast!  (Oh, please.  If We go any slower, it’ll be backwards.)

It’s time to look beyond the attractive surface — is there really any substance there, or are you being fooled by the shiny facade?  (We would have no problem sitting on somebody’s shiny façade.)

(Heh.  Micro$oft Weird™ automatically put that funny Frawnch squiggle thing on the C in “façade”.  Thanks, Micro$oft Weird™!)


(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.
                                                                                                                                    


Thursday, August 30, 2012

Who can turn the world on with her smile?



 

Hello, Ducks!

 

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Friday Eve, August 30, 2012.  In keeping with this week’s nostalgia theme, We offer herewith (who lithped?) Our very first ever e-pissode in Bloggonia:

 

A whole new world...

 
Greetings, Excitement! Rapture! Incandescent Cheer!---

 

 

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, January 13, 2010 (And the very happiest of Hump Days to all you Humpers and Humpettes out there in Hump-Hump Land! Oh, my dears...We are so excited, We can barely contain Our very selves! (In fact, We are pretty sure that a little bit of Us may have actually escaped earlier. (Wasn't that a tasteful way to say "queef"? (And wasn't that a tasty dish to set before the king?))) Here We are with Our very own BLOG! Why, We feel just like Betty Crocker must have felt when she saw her very first microwave oven. And said, "What the fu(k am I gonna do with THAT?!?" The world is Our oyster now, Bay-Bee! (Also, Neptune is Our mussel, and Uranus is Our calamari, but that's a wh0re of another color.) We can bold, we can italicize, we can come in colors...(although We have yet to figger out how to make that TM=trademark symbol that We like, and We aren't being spellchecked as We go along. Which is problematicalicious, in that, while We can spell reasonably well, We can't type for sh1t...). But still, look at Us, We're a BLOGGER! With contextually appropriate advertising and everything!):

 




(While We're waxing pathetic (and We see you, in the corner, waxing the carrot...please knock that off; it's very distracting. Even though it's only a baby carrot) about the Brave New Universe in which We find Ourselves, We should also point out that We can do pictures and video now, too. (Well, We tried to do a pixture here, but it keeps putting it at the top instead. Clearly, We shall have to read more of the destructions. However, We can also do video, and We don't care where that goes, so here. (Hmmm...that didn't work so well either.



 

 

(Now We're waiting while it's "processing" Our video. (Is it p00p yet?) While We wait, a bit of Eric's Daily Horoscope history for those of you who may be new to Us. Way back when the Earth was cooling, in 2001, (Oh, look...Our video appears to be processed. Much like processed cheese food. Velveeta! Velveeta! Don't cry for me, Ike and Tina, and all that) a friend used to email Us Our daily horoscope on occasions when it was particularly Pollyanna-ish and, thus, completely unrelated to Our own life. On the first such occasion, We responded with some scintillating bon mot no doubt not unlike "Our horoscope can go fu(k itself". When this did not deter the arrival of subsequent putridly optimistic horoscopular rantings, it became clear to Us that We were being called upon to tell said horoscopes exactly where they could go and exactly what they could do when they got there, and Eric's Daily Horoscope was born.)

 

(And now, a word about the pixture which We have had to leave at the top of this installment, as We cannot induce it to go anywhere else. Tempted though We are to pass that off as a pixture of Our very Own Self to fool those of you who do not know Us personally, We cannot tell a lie. (Well, actually We can, and We can do a pretty d@mn fine job of it. But We're not lying to you now. (Or ARE We?)) Every so often, One is fortunate in this life to encounter a person who, by sheer force of positive personality, makes it seem as though any old thing is possible if you just try to do it. And about one out of ten of those people manage to do that without making you wanna puke up your own spleen. Now, We should make it clear that We are not one of those people (we mean the positive personality kind...We're pretty sure We occasionally make you wanna puke up your own spleen). If it depended upon Us, no light bulb would have ever gone off over Thomas Algae Edison's head, the Wright Brothers would have been Wrong, and Billy Joe McAllister would have jumped off the Tallahatchie bridge a whole lot sooner. The gentleman in the picture, however, is one of those people, and as such, is The Patron Saint Of The Eric's Daily Horoscope Blog For The New Millennium, in addition to being Our future ex-husband. (Those of you who actually know the gentleman in question may wonder how he can possibly be Our future ex-husband when he is already in a committed relationship. It's a simple summer soap opera plot involving amnesia and multiple personalities. It all gets wrapped up in one thirteen-week cycle, and nobody is the wiser. Except that We eventually give birth to twins, one good and one evil...(Hey, We don't watch The Young And The Rest Of Us for nothing...)))

(So how many of all y'all are still scratching your heads over the Billy Joe McAllister reference? It's not just any old blog that can call to mind the song stylings of Miss Bobbie Gentry...)

(Meanwhile, it appears we've done everything We came here to do, except for a horoscope. There are examples of those down below, though, for you newbies, and We are out of time. So here is the link to YOUR-O-Scopes:


you've tried scrubbing, you've tried soaking, and still you hear, "ring around the cowgrass!")