Dr. Pants McTurd's

MORE Than True Horror-scopes

(not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                                                                

Aries-  There’s this Happy Days episode where Fonzie, in order to prove his coolness or dick size, whatever, has to catch 40 quarters off his elbow with one arm, same hand, whatever. 40 quarters. For a show about the fifties made in the seventies, it still held some relative neato-ness. And Fonzie, played by an Italian looking Jewish guy, totally nailed it, and won the bet or the contest, whatever. Aaaaaaaaaa, indeed. So basically a roll of quarters, you catch it and you look cool. Here’s your mission, and I know you like to be dared, is to whip it out, shoot yourself out of a cannon, get ballsy, whatever. This pissing contest is yours. It’s time to whip out your junk, or your loose change, or a rodeo lariat, whatever. Go now.

Taurus- HULK SMASH is your power phrase of the week. To explicate, the Hulk is that big green monster that smashes stuff. And he’s unbeatable. Everything you throw at him makes him stronger. He can kick anyone’s ass because the angrier he gets, the stronger he gets, until he probably eats the universe or crushes all physical reality into tiny balls, which he then juggles comically—no subtle way of telling you who’s boss. HULK SMASH. You have the power of Greyskull times infinity. Any hindrance, any unwanted habit, any obstacle that’s been taunting you with degrading expletives are now yours to HULK SMASH. GO NOW.

MAKE YOUR ENVIRONMENT A PRODUCT OF A BETTER YOU.

Gemini- You are entirely fictional and I don’t believe you exist. It’s not possible to hold a grail so exquisite as the wine you must hold in yours, making your breath elysian and sweet and seductive all at once. Your technology is so advanced that to me, it appears to be magic. Your moving parts are synonymous with the elusive and other worldly and the aphroditean. You’re a good witch from another dimension, made of vibrato strings, energetic and flexible like yarn, when woven into mesh, reality, flesh, cosmos, atoms and space and a matrix that allows us dimension. Damn. You’re awesome. And you smell great—way to go!

Cancer- You have a 50-50 chance of being perfectly successful. However, the odds are 38 to 1 that you will be taken on a fictional helicopter ride around an island like Where The Wild Things Are. Nevertheless, there is a 83% chance that the end result will be fireworks and celebratory wine orgies in Sonoma, with galas and fetes with you as the honoured guest—yeah, even with british spelling…and monkeys, and real silver ware, and robots serving food and everyone is equal and we can live the Roddenberry future which is the multiverse-given right of any living sentient, free to become anything we can imagine—endless power. You are destined to be 1,000,000,000,000googolplex% successful to the power of 10. Go now. 

Leo- Barack Obama is a Leo. But let’s backtrack and see how we got here. Reagan was an Aquarius and a showman; Bush I is a Gemini, smart and conniving; Clinton is a Virgo, the emotional intellectual; Bush II a Cancer, cautious and scuttling; and then we get to Leo, the leader, the king of the freaking jungle, who has been self charged with bringing all the prides back into a state of something less than complete inter-societal opposition and illogical chaos. The most powerful predator can bring everyone into his fold—so to speak, and hopefully he won’t have to eat to many of them. Roar.

Virgo- You might be the sign who can ride this train. Nixon, Capricorn. Ford, Cancer. Carter, Libra. Reagan, Aquarius. Bush I, Gemini. Clinton, Virgo. Bush II, Cancer. Obama, Leo. The Cancer healed the Capricorn’s indiscretions. Libra gets upstaged by an Aquarius. Gemini inherits but gets stuck in a post 80’s morass. Then Clinton--the emotional intellectual fueled by youth and vigor and saxophones takes over. Then trepidation, the digital age, the complete restructuring of the former empires, and fear and caution, and greed—greed for new life, and more profits. And after all the chaos, Obama, the Leo, the lion, king of the jungle who can appease all tribes. Hopefully anyway. Point is, think deeper. There is intellectual fodder everywhere.

Libra- I awoke from a dream, seeing your face. My mind was filled with your presence. You smelled of newly opened wine and smoky cheese and nights on verandas—or maybe lanais. Somewhere tropical. Cocoanut. And fresh caught sushi that tastes like life, raw, like eating what actually is the now. Caressing and warm equatorial breezes that exist only to fuel your own total evolution. Ripe fruit everywhere, and no one to disturb the liberation of verdant rock and/or rolla that your hippie hula hips sway so smooth. Sure, that was just a dream in my weird head, but you—you’re the real deal. Your spirit is the ocean and the atmo. I just thought you should know how others see you. In the next mirror you find, look beyond the frame.

Scorpio- I think time is a confusing concept for you, if I may explicate my posit: Scorpios are not obsessed with death, as have been reputed, but rather you are obsessed with rebirth. Transition, from one form to another, as is the constant nature of the multiverse, which apparently pervades everything that we “are”. You naturally live in more than one realm, on some conscious level, or maybe that you’re more aware to the other levels in a conscious way. If there is no end to anything, and we just keep going, in some other form, format, inkling, gestation, fiery rebirth, exploding into other branes as if nothing happened at all, like the blink of an eye with telescopes going in all directions. Multi dimensional eagle eyed, you are.

Sagittarius- Eyes developed and evolved because of darkness. There’s something profound in that, I hope to convince you of anyway. When I think of Sag’s, I think about light. The symbolism of the arrow and the target and the eagle eye—these things require light, and the ability to utilize that light to advantage. Out of the darkness of nighttime and oceanic abysses and the need to see to eat, to live, to protect, to ensure future generations of a strong genomic wagon train that’s headed west. Point is, find your light. It’s waiting for you to make use of it.

Capricorn- Imaginatively pragmatic and secretly hedonistic, you fucking Caps. Okay, so let’s start with Nixon, born Jan 9, a total Capricorn. Brilliant, secretive, plotting, comfortable with power, patient, concise…and he took over power from a Virgo who had to heal the nation and free the oppressed…and then Nixon had to finish a war with ostensibly the Soviets, that the French had colonially screwed up, and probably taking a lesson from Lincoln by ratcheting up the war, unfortunately committing good money after bad. Caps have a great understanding of structure and how things work—which gives them the patience to wait for certain gears to move and rubrics to run their natural Rube Goldbergian courses and then act with assassin ninja star throwing capabilities. God damned goats.

Aquarius- Ronald Reagan was an Aquarius. And while most Aquarii lean toward the liberal end of the political spectrum, let’s chat without judging re legacy. First of all, he was an actor…in the same Aquarian guise as the likes of fellow Aquarii Paul Newman, James Dean, and Alan Alda. We may not like it, but we are adept at crowd sourcing. We can gather people around us, despite our isolative tendencies. Strange juxtaposition, yes/no? And usually we do both simultaneously---remain aloof while surrounded by people, faces, egos, emotions, fates, pathologies, habits, entrails yearning to be free, whatever—it may feel foreign, but now is the time for outreach and merging of spirit. Breathe easy, and love actually.

Pisces- There have been four Pisces US presidents. You guys get credit for the head honcho--Washington. Nice. Then Jackson, who ought to be your hero, if you would just do some research. Bold choices, friend. Anywho, also James Madison—War of 1812, White House down and his wife saving artwork—very heroically intellectual. And then Cleveland…Yay…? Only president to be elected twice non-consecutively. Weird. Also won the popular vote 3 times. Neat. Point is, that you fill the power vacuum at interesting times--the beginning, even though you’re the end of the zodiac; you’re the Manifest Destiny OG. Take the space between us and fill it up some way. You’re great at that.

Dr. Pants McTurd's

MORE Than True Horror-scopes

(not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Aries-  I don’t want to alarum thee, but about 8 inches above your head, there’s this floating damoclean sword, that’s aiming for your medulla oblongata—your source, your font of unique and occasionally creepy weirdness. Usually reserved for those in positions of great power, the sword of Damocles represents the possibility that at any moment, the great power that lay in your sweaty handed grasp, may prove to be your undoing in an instant, in a heartbeat, a new york minute even. And hey—there’s no guarantee that the world will definitely not come crashing down on your unsuspecting head any minute now, but for now pretend the sword is just a cupcake with red velvet cocoanut frosting. As usual, you’re over-stressing.

Taurus- Your Dreadnought of the Week ® is an impressive arsenal and defender of justice and enforced peace ‘mongst disparate ideologies, and schisms ‘twixt what is inevitable in a bipolar world. First, let vocab: dreadnought…sounds ominous, like I FEAR NO THING. FEAR DOES NOT EXIST. I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE. ETC. The baseline nature of this weird reality is not steeped in fear. The tea we float in is healing and magic. It created us, and it wants to keep us afloat, so that we can find dry land, so that we may gaze upon the divine sencha sea from a more solid perspective. FEAR NO THING. FOR THINGS---THEY DO NOT EXIST.

ONLY LOVE EXISTS. AND CUPCAKES. FEAR NO THING. GO NOW.

Gemini- You and I, we’re still part animal…reverse evolutionize this: under our big monkey brain lies a scaly reptilian one that reacts instantaneously.

Ok, so present day: northern hemisphere, eve of the solstice, power point central for gravity and quiet moments of intimacy betwixt orbs of great size and nuclear force---magnetic and shielding and life sustaining and astringent only when necessary, in order to further evolution and progress and forever and forever. And you, air and emotion, transforming your way into Cancer, new life; powerful tidal forces at work on levels brainwise that we cannot compute. You are an earlier earth, one that does not know regret or misuse. You are chemical and reactionary and pure. Happy birthday,you magnificent bastard.

Cancer- IF you would just do this. OR believe that. IF ONLY you could transpose dissimilar deities into earthly wormy plowshares, and transform your garden into eden and verdancy and lush and refulgent burgeoning explosive life life life life life all over the place. Wow, neat, right? Birthday times are en route to your face. It’s time to crab crawl from the sea toward warm beaches and systematic spawning---sex, sex, sex…dilated and lunar and solstice and orbs beyond mental contraptions—freedom and exultation and rebirth upon rebirth upon rebirth ad infinauseum® forever and ever and ever. Sidle sideways your life affirming clawesome-osity®. Go now.

Leo- There are only three US states that have the balls to use taxpayer dollars to officially recognize and officially endorse a state bat. Yeah, what’s your state’s official bat? If you don’t live in Oklahoma, Texas or Virginia, you’re sadly state bat-less. In OK, it’s the Mexican free tailed bat. And yeah, maybe that’s a little un-American for a red state, but the exact same bat is also the official state bat of Texas. Go figure. Virginia, tho--way cooler—the Virginia big eared bat. Firstly, way more American. Secondish, way to go Virginia, naming a bat after yourself. You own that bat! And that’s my advice for you my lion friend: find your bat, name it, and make it official. Go now. 

Virgo- So, ever since 9-11, the guv’ment’s been spying on us? So what? Shut up. Remember how Eisenhower warned us about the dangers of an out of control military industrial complex? Yeah, that came true. Same with Washington warning us about foreign entanglements. There exist certain inevitabilities, things that will happen because they simply cannot not happen. Data mining is what the system is going to do no matter what, no matter if it’s legal, no matter if it’s immoral, no matter how many violent asshole terrorists it stops---the future—precluding of course incidents of alien invasion or planetary zombie super virus, the future is a maze of digital everything all the time. Loopholes everywhere. Keep in mind however; no one ‘controls’ the matrix. You pull threads. Be the butterfly that starts a hurricane. Go now. 

Libra- I knew Walgreens was shady biz. So, during Prohibition, Walgreens went from 20 chain stores to 400, because they were allowed to distribute alcohol by prescription—usually in the form of whiskey. So, just like having a medical marijuana license today. Federally illegal and yet not illegal under certain auspices and definitions. So, now, we’re just waiting for the federal green light and Phillip Morris will get even bigger and more powerful until in 2024 when we elect a pack of menthol pot cigarettes to the Senate in, where else—Virginia, birthplace of melanoma. My point is, is that your world is exponential and touches every part of the earth and the galaxy and the multiverse. Dream big because that’s literally all there is.

Scorpio- The sun is large. In addition to roping in such behemoth gas bags like Jupiter and Saturn, there’s around 40,000 space rocks in orbits that range all the way out to Neptune. Science types have named some of them centaurs, after the half man half horse dudes---most of whom were a drunken lot who enjoyed cursing, inebriated contests of dim wit and equine strength, and rune collecting. An unruly bunch, with very odd orbits. It’s madness out there in centaur land. That’s where we’ve banished them, from mythical corporeality to space. It’s very cold in space, Kirk… My point is? My point is, is that you should go to Wikipedia and look up ‘Chiron’, he’s the good centaur. Learn all you can, he just went into retrograde and he is your power greek myth of the week. His wisdom and kindness is yours for the emulating. Go now.

Sagittarius- I know this is annoyingly pithy and cloyingly horseshit worthy, but the love you give is equal to the---no wait, I meant to say that nobody gives it to you. You have to take it. You want…stuff, I guess, or a person, or an idea, or a new dance move, whatever---you want, you take. You’ve been on pause for a bit, and that’s cool…but your dance card has been bitching and moaning about missed opportunities for fun before it’s bucket list time, so wtf? Grab, go, drive, launch, hit it, skedaddle Fraggle. It’s time to fish, not sit on the pot contemplating cutting bait. Hesitate no longer! Start angling and what you desire will meet you there. Go now.

Capricorn- On the off chance you aren’t familiar with the official state meat pie of Louisiana, it is of course the Natchitoches meat pie. There are many different types of meat pies out there, but the Natchitoches has been recognized by state legislature, probably with a flourishing signature from whatever governor had some extra time on his hands and wanted to make sure the proper meat pie got its deserved recognition, by god and by country. Meat pie today, meat pie tomorrow, meat pie, meat pie, meat pie. Your mission is to embrace a meat pie—literal or metaphorical, and make it your bitch. You’re the boss. Don’t hesitate. Lead, and lead strong. Go now.

Aquarius- Okay, sailor, where to? This time of year reeks of doldrums and slack eyed trade winds that drift and roil us about in waters that are not pushed by air by any stretch of our unparalleled imagination. We Aquarii are the trade winds that fuel discovery and travel and wonderment and dreams of future times. So…where to, sailor? May I suggest a butterfly approach? They flitter asymmetrically, in search of sweet sweet opium-like nectar, after transforming themselves from another incarnation. Posit: Pupae. Larva. Cocoon. Beauty. Freedom. Floating breeze to breeze to sugar to love to harmony to death and onward in another phaze. Find your nectar. Drink deep. Slake. Re-define. Start a hurricane. Go now.

Pisces- You’re the oldest water sign, and I’ve been trying to find for you the proper metaphor. What type of water is a Pisces? As you well know, water comes in many forms, is the basis for our survival, and permeates the earth in variegated voluminous volumes. Water is in the air, the rocks…it even has a relationship with fire, which gets weirdly other worldly, lot of physics and crap…Anyhoo, water evolved—that’s what you are…but what is that? Water is everything and everywhere---the universal solvent for crap’s sake! Better to be the grease than the wheel, you unbreakable fucker…nice work. H2Whoaaa! Btw, your metaphor is a glacier---think about it, water expressing environmental dominance over millennia upon millennia—staggering influence---geologic even. Power based on volume and durability. Neat. Be glacial. Save the planet. Go now.

Dr. Pants McTurd's

MORE Than True Horrorscopes!

(not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                                                                

Aries- You are ripe for a Kentucky Meat Shower any second now. Before the imagery in your head turns to something unintended, let me explain. For several minutes on March 3, 1876, large chunks of raw red meat fell from the skies near Olympia, KY. Several theories exist, including buzzard related reverse peristalsis, as well as cosmic space traveling ungulates that explode upon entering earth’s atmo. Your meat shower, however, is a metaphor. The incoming meat due to rain down on your currently meatless head will be a blessing and a boon, and excellent with bbq sauce and grilled asparagus marinated in white wine. Bathe deep the meat, and reap the sweet sweet meat parade headed for your face. It does a body super good.

Taurus- Your actual hair looks great btw, but I believe that you’ve been wearing a metaphorical toupee for some time now; and all your friends and I have decided it’s time to intervene in your off kilter but not actual hairpiece. And hey—we all wear metaphorical toupees sometimes, to compensate for some fetish or belief that we feel weird about addressing publicly; but the rug you’re wearing is a Chuck Norris special—way too big for your head and about as natural as wearing a penguin for a rain hat. Anyhoo, before we alert the Hair Club for Men, undo your fake do, and let me see whatever real locks you got. You’re pretty, here- have a sandwich.

Gemini- There’s a weird story out there about how at Jimmy Stewart’s bachelor party, two little people, couple of Oz’s munchkins btw, were hired to dress in diapers and pop out of a silver serving dish. I don’t know if it’s true, I’m still researching, could be urban legend, but surely I can link this falderal to your still ongoing birthday horrorscope theme for the week. I’ll start with the obvious—truth is arbitrary and often smelly. Secondish, you are incredibly attractive. Thirdbasely, for now anyway, you reek of awesome genius beauty. The sun is shining on your ass and warming it to a new color of golden brown that I call 70’s Tatum O’Neal Tan®. Happy birthdays, you iconic and wise philosopher kings. 

Cancer- If you deem you’ve been distracted and disturbed, disinterred and discombobulated, decommissioned and demoralized, disinherited and deconstructed, well…the devil doth dwell in details deviously devised, don’t ya dare say?.......ahh, crap. Alliteration makes me so tired sometimes...and how droll, how very stupidly droll. Nevertheless, nervously I necessitate the now time for telling your face about the nigh coming attractions. Let’s start with a life preserver—maybe both literal and figurative. Then, how about a freakin’ yacht, with robot wine stewards and sun bathing sexpots. The good ship Lollipopapalooza® is due in your port any minute now. Your cabin with a private balcony and chilled champagne await. Good voyaging.

Leo- Nappanee, Indiana is way more notable than you can imagine. Firstly, it’s the longest city name in the US containing each letter in its name twice. Neat, right? Secondish, it seems to spawn cartoonists—six notably famous ones having been born and raised there. Thirdmost, Nappanee is probably Native American for flour. Not that neat, but okay, keep reading. Fourth estately, there has to be something absowhatly® freaking fascinating about Nappanee, IN that I’m not conveying here. Perhaps a road trip is necessary. No—too expensive—the Wabash River in summer? Outrageous! Go instead to the Nappanee in your mind; and ask for your destiny.

Virgo- So, btw foo fighters are what American WWII pilots called ufo’s. But here’s something: did Dave Grohl know that when he named the band? Also: if he did, is he implying that he is a foo fighter…or is a he a foo fighter, like he fights foo? The history of foo, btw can be traced to a 40’s cartoonist who coined the word. My point is, is how many people even know that a foo fighter is equivalent to pilot hallucinatory stress fatigue? More pointlessly, is Dave Grohl an alien? Is he an alien hunter? Should we hunt aliens? I say, probably, yes. Cold hearted orb that rules the night / removes the colours from our sight / red is gray and yellow white / but we decide which is right and which is an illusion…

Libra- You are a captain of industry. You’re mother's milk and the funniest of farms. But mere words are but fodder for the droll and slack among us—the plebeians, the hoi polloi—we don’t really want to be known ‘mongst their ranks. You and I—we are individuals and unique and crap; unless we’re all the same, and the difference is environmentally determined? Nay and pish, I say. And piffle…I want my environment to be a product of me. I am THE architect. I am the dolce AND the gabbana, the alpha AND omega, and ETC. I just hope that what I envision doesn’t get corrupted by dysfunction, or subversive inner conscious feelings and biases that may underlie but not exemplify my character, possibly even without my “conscious” knowledge. I may be sitting on swamp gas here. Wait, frak that. Stop guessing. Choose. Choose with your heart full steam.

Scorpio- Thankfully science has solved, and therefore destroyed both myth and legend regarding the will-o'-the-wisp, which it turns out is merely the oxidation of phosphine and diphosphane, which produces photons. In other words, neon swamp gas—like lighting a fart… or magical fairies that can give you luck or help you find your way, or maybe lure you into drowning. Point is, that science has an answer for every---wait a tick…what if the fairy that was trying to light your way influences the chemistry of the environment to give you that sign? And science is how fairies actually operate? Shit—I had a point here about the invincibility of science and reason and provable theories, but now I don’t know. Look for a night lite.

Sagittarius- It seems your recent doodlebugging has been less than effective. Have you checked your divination rod? Perhaps it’s on the fritz. I’m speaking about your virgula divina, or baculus divinatorius—you know, that old timey stick that crackpots and oil shamans would use to find water or minerals or texas tea. And I know you Sag’s are into pointing arrows at stuff, but in this case what you seek is buried deep within the earth, hidden from your archer’s keen sight. From where I’m floating, your rod looks out of whack. Check your rod, and divine a way in—earth is never as solid as it appears. Find a way to move within the rock, and then fire at will.

Capricorn- Thanks to Chevron, the word chevron has become equated with Chevron--big oil and dastardly deeds done for the opposite of dirt cheap in favor of power through might rather than intelligently planned advancement through intellect and science. Chevron comes from old French, meaning a shape like an inverted V, like the rafters of a roof, a military rank, or the angle of a goat’s hind legs when viewing the ungulate from behind. I’m stretching this, but Chevron and oil and the greasing and the lubing and etc, are basically a goat’s ass, and we’re reaping the inevitable kick to the face. But you’re smarter than the average goat-ass-looker. You’ve got your third eye on a much loftier chevron.

Aquarius- Trust me on this, I’m never wrong. Before the week is out, you need to find a well. And not an oil well, like south of Culver City, but like a real well with water, the more old timey, the better, maybe with a bucket on a string and the whole deal. While staring down the well, meditate on what you think is lacking in your life---your wish/bucket list maybe. Then, with all your mental might, send that list plummeting down the well. Give it back to the underground water deities who perhaps spawned your silly desires in the first place. Wishes are far away. Make, through fist and fury if necessary, your here and now. Seize the present and Be the Future.

Pisces- Neptune, the king and designer of dreams and all things, as well as all things non-corporeal, has recently gone into hiding. Don’t take the retrograde too literally though. It only appears to be moving backwards in the sky. The reality is that the earth’s orbit is much faster than that old gas bag, so from time to time, it looks like it’s not moving at all, backstroking in the heavens even! Retrograde is like a telepathic back seat driver, except that the back seat in this case, is probably in the car one lane over; maybe giving you perspective from a wholly divergent pov—could be good advice, could be bad, could be gibberish to be translated later on. My advice: listen with you inner cetacean ear and swim like a neptunian water mammal.

                     Dr. Pants McTurd's

           MORE Than True Horror-scopes

      (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                                                                 

Aries-  Most regular horoscopes are bullshit, oft filled with promises of love and money and career bounties that are surely en route to your face---fer sure this month! Most ‘scopes let you know what you’ve been lacking or missing or searching for. They blow more smoke up your ass than even fortune cookies. And hey—a little positive reinforcement can be a good thing. Maybe you have had a rough time and things are going to get better. Maybe monkeys will fly out of your butt. HOWEVER--this Pants horrorscope is not here to tell you of the wild and crazy awesome shite to come, but rather the good stuff that lurks in front of your face. You lack nothing, except maybe the forest for the trees. Have a milkshake.

Taurus- The ensuing week may involve some or all of the following ensuing hellscapes: cat herding, wall scraping, tennis juggling, ear waxing, bumble sniffing, cocoa banana butter beanery bribing, ambidextrous water spanking, dandelion surfing, getting noticed at local infamous eateries while downing oysters in hopes of a successful rendezvous sans cameras…not to mention skullduggerous smuggling jobs, flubbering snuffleupeggi® and watered down horsepipes. Don’t kill the messenger on this one, but this is gonna get weird--good weird, but weird. Stay present.   

Gemini- This week you will span the gap and gamut between Godard and Goddard. The former a filmmaker who was quoted as saying, “All you need to make a movie is a gun and a girl”, and the latter, who said, “Every vision is a joke until the first man accomplishes it; once realized, it becomes commonplace.” Bear in mind the Goddard was a pioneer of rocket science and the Godard, a pioneer of movies about explosive situations and emotions using guns as a launching pad. The French guy’s a Sagittarius, and the rocketeer’s from Massachusetts. The parallel between these two geniuses is the beam you will travel. Do some research, walk the path, and we’ll discuss your findings at a café in Roswell where gravity bends to the weak nuclear force, and not the political free for a select few.

Cancer- How beautiful is this shite, originated by the great and wise Clarke: “(1) When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong. (2)The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible. (3)Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” Intelligence beatified. Imagination gently caressed by rivers of science. Your week will be replete with waters that are equal parts mystic and explicably mathematically kind. (Also, read Scorpio- we’re all counting on you)

Leo- Lately, have you felt that you’re Bruce Lee in that one movie where there was all the mirrors and a creepy old dude that seemed unkillable and who had metal hands for some reason? Well, DON’T PANIC—I typed that in big bold letters so you’d know the deal. Check this: the mirrors are a weird metaphor for your soul, Bruce. You are blessed to know multiple realities and will stab the metal hands guy in the chest through on of those mirrors with a freakin’ spear. Sweet frakking action, amigo. You’re both Tango AND Cash. Big Trouble AND Little China. Ewoks AND Wookies, hombre. Bet big, go big, and then go home…and get some rest. You’ve earned it, Bronco.

Virgo- A snowball, packed by a twelve year old girl leaves Indiana, Pennsylvania on a more than usually cold night at 12:05 am, headed straight for hell. How fast does the snowball need to travel in order to get to the other side of hell with a minimum of 33.3% of its original mass still frozen? Clue: the girl is a pitcher in a fast pitch softball league, and in future times will receive a scholarship, then playing in professional women's softball, and eventually becoming an icon of the sport—say, the Mia Hamm of softball. Calculate the vectors and moral imperceptitudes® and report back. The future depends on your math being “correct”, unassailable, ballsy and creatively erudite and erect.

Libra- I drink your milkshake. Deal with it. Next time put some bourbon in it. And while you’re at it, get me a sandwich—no sprouts and extra mayo. And another thing, go out and buy a hammock, then buy a house with a shaded back yard, preferably with a pool, and set that hammock up in a peaceful spot; I need some serious naptime. Some mint juleps in the afternoon would be nice too. I…drink…your...milkshake. After all, it’s what brings all the bones to the yard. Wait…wrong advice….take no shit from no one and keep your own counsel---it’s the only one that’s unbiased. If you have time, then yeah, hammock---otherwise, drink your own milkshake.

Scorpio- You’re smart, so check my posit: On a long timeline, the relationship between our understanding of self vs the ‘reality’ of self is probably a wave function that goes hither and yon in some kind of up and down cycle, with the x-y axis representing truth—whatever the frak that is. Spit, fart and vomit, I say. Yet grok this: at times I’ll speak without forethought, perhaps with only the inkling of an idea about something and I’ll let my tongue ramble brainwise till it comes out; hopefully it’s genius rather than gibberish. I figure I got a 50/50 shot. Your future is neither luck nor odds. Rather flipside, your inner reptilian sensoid molecules have been evolving far longer than whatever mammal you think you are.

Sagittarius- I dare you. I double canine reverse eagle transverse corduroy Baltic avenue your ass to get your shite in gear and follow my linguistic pattern making, that hopefully lead to a point both well fashioned and appropriately apt—sorry for the re-redundancy, but here’s the point is---

I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE. Repeat. I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE. PERIOD. END OF MILKSHAKE. But don’t feel bad that I got your number. Sweet sweet, not bloody revenge is sexy and loving and organic and delicate and ...Providential. Providence. Not just a vaguely interesting city, but also a concept, an idea, a—a a-- belief system---an identity! My id!

I feel deep shit has been mined here. But I gotta go, so you dig it out. 

Capricorn- Bro—or Sis…hey Lady, there’s a thing on your…Oh wow, that looks heavy as shit. It’s a giant…what, a pustule, I guess…or a tumor…No, no it’s not a tumor, but jeez it looks like a shit heavy load—a burden, a waste of effort on your part to be carrying, especially considering the moment you set it down, it will try to knife you in the liver, or the heart—wherever you live the most. My advice---once you locate the onus, bide your time and hike to a river or a seashore. Water is your keystone watchword lodestone geographical marker from whence you strayed in your usually anatomical thinking. From there you’ll be able to set your monkey free, not to mention your soul. No kayak needed, you’re welcome.  

Aquarius- Do you really want to argue trivialities with someone you agree with? Preaching to the choir seems so below a mind like ours. However, before words of “wisdom” fall on deaf ears, consider this: despite your questionable knowledge of generally everything, are you not also awash and awhirl in the tempest tossed teapot of multi-universality, that may contain both alive and dead cats in suppos’d boxes? Not to mention illusory corporeality and candy that melts only in your mouth regardless of the fire in your fists? The forge of life is foundried, not upon slabs of steel or stone---but in ideology not yet invented---even by mental giants like us. Be free.

Also read Aries, it pre-lates.

Pisces- An asteroid with its own small satellite passed by us last week. We'll see it again in 200 years, but wow- what an interesting relationship these two random space rocks have found in each other. They’re nomads circling our sun at ridiculous orbits, and they found each other. Yes, yes… randomness. And, hey—there are probably even stranger combinations out there, but these two rocks must really dig each other’s scene, man-- or perhaps they’re unwitting compatriots of gravity and coincidental locales which contain no meaning. Oy, crap. Look, I’m tired, you’re tired, let’s face it-- we’re tired, pooped even. Moons happen. Act accordingly.