Do you hear the people sing people who need people?

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for  JustAnotherMagicMikeWasn’tEvenNominatedMonday, February 25, 2013.  Oh, Our dears, this is going to be a long one!  (That being, We shouldn’t even have to point out, unless you are such a newb that they just took the wrappings off, What She Said.)  For the first time evah here at Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!, We are going to bring you complete Oscar™ coverage, except for those parts where We hadda go pee.  Because, as We have recently discovered, YouPeople do so prefer to follow Our bouncing ballz along when We have a point.

But first, some birthday wishes.  From Saturday, Happy Belated Birthday to Lyle and his sister, Lyell, each of whom turned twenty-four that day.  (You might think that would make them twins, but they are hardly identical.)  Happy Belated Birthday also to Susan, who also turned twenty-four On Saturday, and who is on the verge of becoming Our second-cousin-in-law.  (We have a chart that tells Us things like who’s a first, second, and third cousin, who’s removed, who’s an inlaw, who’s an outlaw, who’s on first, what’s on second, I don’t know’s on third…this is getting really long and We didn’t even get to the Oscars™ yet.)

Also from Saturday, Happy Belated Birthday to Chris and to Nick, who also turned twenty-four.  And from Sunday, Happy Belated Birthday to MizGerreGarrett and to Cathy, each of whom also turned (in an odd coincidence) twenty-four, and to Jonathan, who, marching to a differently-abled drummer as he does, did NOT turn twenty-four.  And, last but not Lee’s™ Press-On Nails, Happy Birthday to Len, who turns twenty-four today.

And now, ladies and genitals, the Oscars™!

First off, We must point out that We started off under the mistaken impression that the proverbial shit was to begin hitting the proverbial fan at 8PM Eastern Standard Time, so We are also able to report on a bit of the pre-show red carpet shenanigantics.    This consisted of several noted entertainment reporters, all dressed to the nines, asking every woman who wandered their way, “Who are you wearing?”  Our first sign that this was going to be a long, unrelenting evening was when not a single woman replied, “Ross Dress-for-Less…what’s it to ya?”

In addition to the noted entertainment reporters, this segment of the evening also involved, inexplicably, Kristen Chenowith, flitting about the celebs like a hyperactive mosquito with attention deficit disorder and a crack pipe, saying, “Bless your heart” a lot.  Now, while Kristen Chenowith is well-known on the Broadway stage, and has, in recent years, begun making inroads into television, We are hard-pressed to name A Kristen Chenowith Fillum.  Mainly because We don’t think there are any.  Also, she is weird looking and way too skinny.  Go away and eat a fucking sandwich, Kristen Chenowith.

Speaking of weird looking, Our apologies to People magazine and the rest of his fans, but We totally Do Not Get the Channing Tatum fascination.

The red carpet also marked the evening’s first (but by no means the evening’s LAST) appearance of Miss Jane Hathaway, who was, of course, nominated for Best Supporting Anorexic for Baguette’s Feast, or some other damn foreign fillum.  She was wearing a pale-pink dress through which One could clearly see her nipples, despite the fact that she has no breasts.  Mister Drysdale will certainly be giving her a talking-to in the morning.  Although Jethro no doubt had a boner.

For those who would like to (re-)read Our review of Miss Jane Hathaway's fillum, please see here: http://ericsdailyhoroscope.blogspot.com/2013/02/everybody-raise-glass-raise-it-up.html

Would We be showing Our age if We mentioned that we remember when Daniel Day-Lewis was hot?

Okay, so now We’re about to leave the red carpet and go start the show.   But first, for some reason, they want Us to know that the cast of Glee is  somehow the future of movie-making, and will be helping to present Oscars™ throughout the evening.  Also, lest We think that Kristen Chenowith has gone off somewhere to bite her husband’s head off after mating, they threaten Us that, if We stay awake throughout the entire proceedings, at the very end, she’s gonna SING to Us.  Because there’s nothing anybody ever wants more, after they’ve given out the very last Oscar™, than for the show to go on a while longer.

Okay, NOW We’re inside, and the show is starting, and Our first thought is, Day-um, Donny Osmond has had some work done!  But what the hell’s wrong with his hair? (We did, of course, ultimately realize that the host is not Donny Osmond, although We cannot be arsed, at this point, to remember who the hell it is.  However, during a commercial break, IMDB informed Us that he had every bit as much business appearing on the Oscars™ as Donny Osmond and/or Kristen Chenowith, and---)

WTF?!?  Is that William Shatner?  Why, yes…yes, it is.  Conveniently attired, for those who might not recognize him from his long and illustrious fillum career, in his Star Wars Trek uniform.  He is interacting with Donny Osmond in what is apparently Act Four of the evening’s opening.  “You don’t,” he intones, “want to be the first Oscars™ host to get a bad review.”  (Apparently, We are all supposed to have forgotten the 2011 debacle involving James Franco and Miss Jane Hathaway.)

Note to Self:  Since he refuses to become past tense, should his name be William Shitner?

Wow, this opening is long.  Like Wagner’s Ring Cycle long.  And equally funny.  For some reason, Channing Tatum and Charlize Theron dance during it.  The dance is well-executed, and mercifully brief.  Not, however, so brief that it doesn’t give Us time to realize that Channing Tatum and Charlize Theron have the same initials.  They could get married and nobody would need to buy them new towels.  Also, Channing Tatum is wearing, We shit you not, spats.  We don’t know why people wore spats back when people wore spats.  He looks even stupider than he looked on the red carpet.

Also dancing? Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Daniel Radcliffe.   We have dreams in which Joseph Gordon-Levitt dances with Daniel Radcliffe.  But (A.) they are not tap-dancing and (2.) they are not wearing tuxedos.

We trust We have given you some sense of just how long the opening was.  We are not, naturally, going to do an award-by-award description of the rest of the evening, as We are not being paid by the word; We shall just leave you with some kaleidoscopic impressions.

At some point early on That Fat Chick Who Is Making A Career Out Of Nothing Except Being That Fat Chick came out to present.  Hey, Fat Chick:  if you want Us to be politically correct, and NOT call you out for looking like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon, you might wanna see to it that your stylists don’t dress you in some ill-fitting battleship gray shmata that makes Us think alternately of elephants and hippopotami.  KThxWaddleOff.

Is Dustin Hoffman making The Tony Bennett Story?

Whatever happened to Jamie Foxx’s eyebrows?

Damn…why was the Downton Abbey finale last week?  We could totally switch over to that.

Is there really an animatronic bear telling Jews-in-Hollywood jokes?  Really?

No Sound Design award for the sound people working this show…the orchestra consistently overpowered every single singer.  Until they got to the Les Miz part.  Which sounded a kabillion times better than the actual fillum.  Of course, the excerpts from Chicago and Dreamgirls only served to point out how wretched Les Miz really was.

Speaking of singers and animatronics, did anyone else find it bizarre that the nose that Barbra Streisand refused to have surgically altered for all those years is now the only thing on her face that has NOT been surgically altered?  Just Us?  Alrighty, then.

Also, you GO, Shirley Bassey!  Also, Adele!  And this, it should be noted, especially by Elephant Fat Chick from earlier, is how a generously-proportioned woman needs to dress herself.  “Skyfall”, unfortunately, is a mediocre song at best, especially as Bond songs go, but who cares?  Adele has an Oscar™!

Meryl Streep, meanwhile, apparently picks her ass just like anybody else.

And, just as threatened, the evening ended with a song by Kristen Chenowith and Donny Osmond, full of jokes about the nominees who didn’t win Oscars™ that nobody could hear because the sound balance was so off.

Speaking of a thrill just to be nominated, 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 .

Many of you will recall Our 2012 Pisces video, complete with guest appearance by Justin Bieber. Since We never tire of sharing that with Our adoring public, while We are waiting for Our invitation to go sailing on Mister Bieber’s yacht, here it is:

We repeated that paragraph in its entirety from the other day because We are still pondering what exactly the “sailing on Mister Bieber’s yacht” euphemism might actually mean.  Sigh.

We are out of time for today, so here are:

(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.

                                                                                                                                    

And the mailman won the lottery

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for FridayTheThirteenth, January 13, 2012.  Oooohhh, scaaaary, kidz!  Long-term Erix Daily Horoscope readers will recall that the first Friday the Thirteenth of every year is always dedicated around these parts to Kevin Bacon’s ass, which was first seen in a fillum by that name many moons (heh) ago. (Actually, his ass had no doubt been seen prior to that fillum, but that was its first (of many) appearance(s) on The Big Screen. (It is not often that We are thankful that We are not a famous movie star, but the contemplation of someone plastering Our ass across The Big Screen is almost enough to make Us so. (Where they would find A Big Screen big enough is a mystery to Us.  Possibly on one of the moons of Uranus…)))

But enough of this high-brow humor.  Happy birthday to John, who turns twenty-four today all the way out in San Francisco.  Where, in a tragic display of early-onset Alzheimer’s, Tony Bennett left his heart.  John was married prior to his arrival in said city, or We would most assuredly be able to ask him, if you get married in San Francisco, do they throw Rice-A-Roni™?  And, if so, is it a treat?

Now, of course, We’re just showing off for company.  So on to the reason We have company in the first place.  One of Our ex-son-in-laws…ex-sons-in-law? (Is it just Us, or does that look as though We’re trying to spell something out phonetically…”Exxon-in-slaw”…) This guy who used to bang Our daughter…

Let’S start over…

The author of the blog p squared to the nth ( http://psquaredtothenth.blogspot.com/  ), with whom We are personally acquainted (that sounds even murkier, dunnit?  We try and try to sound like Jane Austen or one of the Bronte sisters, and yet everything We write sounds like it should start out “There once was a man from Nantucket…”  Sigh.) has nominated Us Our Own Self Personally for the prestigious Liebster Blog Award.

Now, We know what you’re thinking.  (Oh, yes, We do; We’re psychic.)  You’re thinking, “First of all, ‘Liebster Blog Award’  doesn’t rhyme with ‘Nantucket’.  And (B.), what the hell is a Liebster Blog Award?”

We are so glad you asked.

[Begin cut and paste]

Liebster is a German word that means dearest, and this award is given to bloggers with less than 200 followers who deserve more recognition.

Here are the rules:

1.                   Thank your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog.

2.                   Link back to the blogger who awarded you.

3.                   Give your top 5 picks for the award.

4.                   Inform your top 5 by leaving a comment on their blogs.

5.                   Post the award on your blog.

[End cut and paste]

(The cut-and-paste tags are Petr’s, not Ours, so We feel comfortable picking the nit that says it should be “FEWER than 200 followers”, not “less than”.)

So first of all, thank you, Petr, for bestowing this honor upon Us, and for reminding Us that, even when We don’t know they’re there, people are reading Our e-pistles.  And in fact, Our Google-O-Meter™ informs Us that We have already had visitors who got here by way of the link on Petr’s blog.  Frequent topics on psquared to the nth include tennis, American Idol, and recovery (not usually all in the same installment), and here is that link again:  http://psquaredtothenth.blogspot.com/

Now, of course, in Our effort to pay it forward, We run into a similar problem to Petr’s.  We read a lot of well-known big-deal bloggers (Joe.My.God, Kenneth in the (212)), but very few small little-known folks, and many of those seem to have dried up entirely and never update.  Which, We imagine, is part of the point of this award. So We don’t have five nominees, but, as Petr said when accepting his award, we shall strive to find Our missing three, and update you when We do.

NOMINEE NUMBER ONE: This one was simplicity itself.  If you come to Erix Daily Horoscope for the astrology, you are no doubt sorely disappointed.  If you want someone who actually knows where Uranus is at any given moment (and, more to the point, knows what to do with Uranus once he finds it), you want to be following AstroGeek’s SkyWatch: http://agskylab.blogspot.com/ 

NOMINEE NUMBER B: This nominee does not technically qualify, as she has far more than 200 followers.  However, We suspect that she will be far better equipped to come up with her own five nominees than We are, so, in the interest of paying it forward in a way that actually pays it forward, We give you VodkaMom:  http://www.vodkamom.com/ , whose tales of being a newly-single kindergarten teacher never fail to amuse.  (Parenthetically (hence the parentheses), there are those who don’t believe that We would be entertained by stories about adorable little moppets in kindergarten because We don’t like children.  This is patently untrue.  We like children as much as the next person, as long as they are lightly sautéed and served with a nice Béarnaise sauce.)

There. As soon as We are through here, We shall go inform Our nominees.  And We promise to be Sally Cato on a hunt for three more deserving denizens of Bloggonia.

(How polite of you all to just let that Sally Cato reference slide by.)

Meanwhile, if you’re new here, go watch this:

 And share it with all your friends:

http://youtu.be/qQ4zUrLmBPg

And check out the other videos at: http://www.youtube.com/user/RickinPhilly?feature=mhee

This is where We would generally have a random Charlene Tilton reference.  However, in honor of Petr, today We shall have a random Kelly Clarkson reference.  Followed by The HorrorScope:

You should do whatever you can to stick to your routines today  (Mmm-hmm. Like anyone wants to see Us twirl a baton.)

— otherwise, you may find that your energy is spent on putting out fires or otherwise wasted.  (It is unclear to Us how exactly putting out a fire can be construed as wasting energy.  Asshat.)

Sometimes boredom is an asset!  (You say “asset” and We say “asshat”; you say “potato” and we say “shut the front door”.   (What a stupid song.))

Just because you have to deal with mundane responsibilities doesn’t mean you can’t have fun while you do it! (Yeah.  Because nothing says “fun” like some mundane responsibilities.)

 Let your creativity guide you today, and you will easily come up with fun combinations, unusual arrangements and intriguing ideas that will help the day go faster. (Coming up with all those things sounds an awful lot like work…can’t We just hire somebody?)

A simple thing like eating lunch a bit later will help to break up your tasks into more-interesting chunks. (Does anyone have any idea whatsoever what the hell this bitch is nattering on about?  Jeebus Cripes, We’ve got COMPANY in here today, and THIS is the boring ass(tromalogical) ho(roscopulation) you’re dishing out?  “Eat lunch a little later”?  Yeah, maybe We’ll put an extra ice cube in Our Kool-Aid™ while We’re at it.  Yippee-kai-yi-fuckin’yay.)

 Plus, a revised schedule will help you see something that you’ve been missing.  (Zzzzzzzzz…)

Getting the feeling no one is grasping the urgency of your current situation? (Hey, you’re the idiot who said putting out fires was a waste of energy.  How about We set your hair on fire and watch you change your tune?)

 It might not be entirely their fault. (Well, fine.  Then We need a scapegoat, pronto.)

The next time you want some understanding, explain the problem without the drama.  (Wow.  Harsh. Is that any way to talk to a Liebster Award Winner?)

 (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.

Lucy in the sky with diamonds

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for ThankGawdIt’sFriedEggsBecauseWhenIt’sFriedEggsYouKnowHowManyYou’reGettingAsOpposedToScrambledEggsWhereTheyCanCheatYou, January 6, 2012.  Happy belated birthday to Ken, who turned twenty-four yesterday in San Francisco, where Tony Bennett left his heart.  Which seems to Us a wanton disregard for vital organs, which is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.  Also, happy Feast of the Epiphany, which, prior to the Electronic Information Age was just the Plain Old Piphany, but We already had this discussion the other day as regards “epistle”, so We’re not having it again.

Apparently, Our stream of consciousness has turned into a tsunami.  William Faulkner must be rolling in Tennessee Williams’s grave.  (People always say that as though it were (subjunctively) a bad thing, but We are pretty sure that, if We were (again, subjunctively) dead, rolling in Our grave would make a nice change.  Because what exactly else would We have to do?)

Our apologies to anyone out there who knows dead people.  Meanwhile, We have just this minute minted a brand spanking (ooooohhh!!!) new expression, “bowling in his (or her) grave”.  As in, “Did you see the new production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Harvey Fierstein as Maggie?  Tennessee Williams must be bowling in his grave.”  We know it is brand spanking new because when you Google “bowling in his grave” on Wikipedia, you only get five hits. (Now you will get six, because one of them will be this e-pistle to the Fierstinians.  Isn’t that exciting? We have changed the course of linguistic history quite cunningly.) When you Google “bowling in HER grave” on Wikipedia, you don’t get ANY hits. Which seems to Us quite sexist, and is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things With Vaginas.

No, We have no idea what We’re talking about, but thank you for asking.

In still other news, We would tell you where We were yesterday morning that prevented Us from e-pistling on you, but We don’t like to jinx such things, so you’ll just have to wait.  (The phrase “just have to wait in Kuwait” just leapt unbidden into Our mind, much like Aretha Franklin springing forth from Zeus’s forehead.  Which is quite a pixture, especially if you imagine her in the hat she wore to President Obama’s inauguration.)

Vacation time shares are still available in Our mind for both January and February.  The skiing is lovely this time of year, except for the fact that it’s all uphill.

Speaking of Aretha Franklin’s hat, go watch this:

 And share it with your friends:

http://youtu.be/qQ4zUrLmBPg

Once again, Charlene Tilton finds herself in extremely lofty company.  Alternatively, The HorrorScope:

You’re feeling pretty chilled today  (It is JANUARY.  Fucking DUH.)

— and your life should be pretty easy, (Also breezy and beautiful.  Because We are a Covered Girl.  Much like a Covered Wagon, only several orders of magnitude larger.)

so it’s the perfect time to kick back (We can only kick back if someone kicks Us in the first place. (We shall leave the location of said place up to Your Fertile Imagination.  Which you will find next to your Fertile Crescent Rolls.)

and dream up new ideas. (What have We been doing all damn morning?)

If you like, you may find that socializing is quite fruitful.  (So you’ve met Our friends, then?)

 A tantalizing but succinct announcement will leave you desperate for more information.  (“Tantalizing but succinct”?  Look what bitch done got a-hold of a Roget’s Thesaurus.)

So what should you do about this rousing mystery?  (We’re voting for “call the Hardy Boys and have a threesome”.)

(Didn’t see THAT coming, didja?)

Absolutely nothing.  (“Absolutely nothing” is not a sentence.   But Absolutely Fabulous  is a television show.)

Just sit tight and wait for things to develop on their own schedule — which could be quite leisurely. (If One sits tight long enough, One will eventually poop diamonds.  Which are a girl’s best friend.)

But in the meantime, feel free to have some fun imagining the possible effects on your future.  (Pooping diamonds on Uranus.  (We would like to point out at this juncture that this is Our brain NOT on drugs.  Any questions?))

Today, don’t worry about having unrealistic expectations.  (But We’re not expecting….was that a fat joke?)

Just let yourself dream big!  (It WAS!  It WAS a fat joke!)

 If you feel like the last kid picked for the kickball team, you’re right on track. (Make up your mind.)

(That there?  Was a little sports joke.  Very little.)

Don’t take it personally, though. (Oh, okay.)

 It isn’t about ability or popularity, it’s more about availability. (And popability.  Do you pop out at parties?  Are you unpoopular?)

 If you’re not putting yourself front and center, it’s no wonder you’re light on invitations. (But We have all these diamonds…)

 (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.

I got my nuts from a hippie in a camper van on Saturday night

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Thursday, January 13, 2011.  Happy birthday to John G., who turns twenty-four today all the way over on the Left Coast in San Francisco.  Which is where Tony Bennett left his heart, and where any number of other gentlemen have done all sorts of things with various other organs.  And which is also the home of Rice-A-Roni™, the San Francisco treat. I don’t know about you, but when I finally make it out to visit San Francisco, I want a better damn treat than Rice-A-Roni™.  I’m just sayin’.  Meanwhile, did you know that Rice-A-Roni™ Fried Rice, which used to have those little slivers of almond in it?  In fact, it may even have been called Rice-A-Roni™ Fried Rice With Those Little Slivers Of Almond In It?  Doesn’t have those little slivers of almond in it any more. And they didn’t even have the decency to change the name to Rice-A-Roni™ Fried Rice WITHOUT Those Little Slivers Of Almond In It.  It’s either a cost-cutting measure, or else it’s something to do with all of these children and their nut allergies.  Where did all of these children come from all of a sudden?  When I was a child, if someone gave you nuts to eat, you ate them and you liked them.  These namby-pamby children today, you so much as SHOW them your nuts, and they spontaneously combust or something.  Jeebus.

(Two weeks writing this fu(king horoscope, and I’ve apparently turned into Andy Rooney.  Please come and kill me now.)

Speaking of fried rice (how’s THAT for a segue? (What’s a segue?  About a pound and a half.)), Himself is still fast abed, having worn his own self out completely shoveling snow yesterday.  When last heard from, he was having a dream in which he actually Went Home With A Boy.  Just like they do in the movies.  Well, some movies, anyway.  Of course, being Himself, as soon as he got into the boy’s home, he promptly started making fried rice. (From scratch, mind you, not Rice-A-Roni™ Fried Rice Without Those Little Slivers Of Almond In It. (I am NOT making this up.)) Because, obviously, he hadn’t read his “Going Home With Boys” manual in quite some time.  And, I might add, he was making said fried rice with no shirt on.  Because obviously, in addition to not having read his “Going Home With Boys” manual in quite some time, he had also been neglecting his “101 Common Kitchen Disasters And How To Avoid Them” manual as well.

Now, at this juncture, the astute readers among you, in addition to congratulating yourselves on being able to read a stute, are firmly convinced that you know exactly how this dream is about to veer into nightmare, via spattered hot oil and singed lychee nuts.  WRONG, Won Ton Breath!  There is Our Hero, slicing, dicing, and fried ricing away, nipples to the wind and tits akimbo, when the Boy He Went Home With’s apartment door opens and in walks The Boy’s mother.

Who is a Chinawoman.

And then he woke up.

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I put that row of stars there so you could rest your eyes a moment before moving to a completely new topic, now with thirty-seven percent more of Those Little Slivers Of Almond In It.  Today’s Erix Daily Horoscope Pixture Du Jour Au Jus No Mus No Fus Popping Pimples For The Pus Rosa Parks In The Front Of the Bus (I REALLY need a new name for those, now that I’ve taken over writing these horoscopes) comes to us from the lovely and talented Cole Escola, star of Logo’s Jeffrey and Cole Casserole.  You can see much more of his wit and wisdom here:  http://coleescola.wordpress.com/2011/01/12/doodle-113/

You need to have patience with today’s big issues (I want Those Little Slivers Of Almond back, dammit!  What kind of San Francisco Treat doesn’t have any nuts in it?))

— they don’t resolve easily, and the more you push or pout, (Or poop?)

the more they resist. (The name is Force.  Irresistible Force.  Pleased to meet you, Mister Immovable Object.)

The answer comes slowly, and through group effort.  (A group poop, you say?  How exactly does THAT work?)

(Carol Channing:  “Corn?!?  When did we have corn?”)

The universe is downright insisting that you turn your attention toward your checkbook. (Speaking of black holes…)

(Heh.  “A Chinawoman.”  Sometimes, I just tickle myself.)

And that doesn’t mean just balancing it, either. (Oh, of course not.  I’ll probably have to make it fried rice from scratch.  But I’ve got news for you…it isn’t getting any look at my tits.)

You need to go over all your finances with a fine-tooth comb. (Apparently, my finances have pubic lice.)

Once you’re done, (Stick a fork in me.)

 if you need to put your foot down about a bill, a debt or what someone owes you, go right ahead — especially if you’ve already been far too patient. (See also: Aries, Definition Of.  “Patient”?  The hell you say.)

A new P.O.V. has you seeing things in a new way. (Presumption Of Virginity?  Pantsuit Of Velour? Peruvian Orgasm Vendor?  I’m so confused…)

Are you ready for that new date or next move move? (Yes, indeedy doo.  Have wok, will travel.  My fried rice brings ALL the boys to the yard.)

Check your motives (Screw that…check your nuts.)

— if you’re making a big change, (As long as your nuts are still there, you haven’t made The Big Change yet.)

make sure it’s for the right reasons. (Which are well known to her.)

(Your YOUR-O-Scopes:

http://www.humorscope.com )

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.