Dr. Pants Mcturd's MORE Than True Horrorscopes

                            Dr. Pants' Eerily True Horror-scopes
                             


disclaimer: satire is the divine right not of kings, but of all free men and women.

this week!: your pants and what's in them will be impressing people all day long.

Aries- Grab yourself a strainer and dust off your mercy. I'm referring to the quality of your mercy and the fact that you haven't been dishing it out liberally of late, either to your loved ones, strangers on the street, or even to yourself. Why so stingy? Unclog your atria and unfurl your compassion even on those who seem not to deserve it, especially thyself. Your burdens will become weightless blessings.

Taurus- What's in a name? The moniker America caught on thanks to that 15th century cult-of-personality Amerigo Vespucci, a Florentine financier, map maker and avant-garde break dancer. A close second name was Columbia. We made the right choice. I think it's a bad start for a country to name it after a guy who killed way too many indigenous people in the name of gold, god and ego. When creating a name for yourself, choose wisely and humbly.  

Gemini- Sammy Hagar says, 'There's only one way to rock'. Bullcrap. There's 17 different ways to rock according to the National Institute of Rocking Out, not to be confused with the International Association of Rockers, which pays tribute to the benefits of old-timey rocking horses on insolent childhood behavior. Sammy also says, "Only time will tell if we stand the test of time". Based on the facts, I deduce from this that, a) Sammy doesn't know shit, b) his tequila isn't bad and c) you should find at least 4 new ways to rock asap. It is a moral imperative.

Cancer- I propose that the word 'gyp', meaning to get ripped off, is a racist word, (our language seems to be abundantly replete with them), and that we would all benefit from discontinuing its usage. Regardless of how you feel about gypsies, odds are that they live up to a chiseling reputation in the same proportion as all non-Romani do. This week, do your best to sweep out all the prejudiced cobwebs hiding in the corners of your psyche. An educated mind is a terrible thing to avoid.

Leo- The myth surrounding Leo makes for a complex iconography. Your are the Nemean Lion, offspring of the Chimera, a multi-animaled beast that was strangled by Hercules, or Heracles depending on your point of reference, and simply because you were terrifying a local village, (under the orders of a higher deity, I might add...). He strangled you and wore your impenetrable fur as a shield. Hera, displeased at your death, placed you eternally in the heavens, the sun focussing your radiance at the pinnacle of the Nile's greatest yearly height. Good luck with all that.

Virgo- While ataraxia and apoplexia seem like they should be directly related, their hidden lives couldn't be more different. The latter is like having a stroke, while the former is a feeling of utter peace and calm. Do I have the free will to choose either one, or am I chemically fated towards one end of the spectrum; or will I bounce hilly-nilly betwixt the two until my feeble brain bursts from an en-lightening stroke that endows me with both crippling brain impairment and orgiastic euphorias of understanding? Forgetaboutit-- it ain't nuthin'. Happy Birthday.

Libra- The Tanganyika laughter epidemic of 1962 (a real deal--Google it) was no laughing matter, except in a literal sense. Many pants were peed, much milk was spat from unsuspecting noses, and Bhudda's belly was tickled pink with all the laughter floating joyously up toward his heavenly post. A laugh riot is the only riot not punishable by up to 5 years in the funny farm. This week, buy someone a glass of milk, and start a riot.

Scorpio- Unfortunately a booby hatch is not what it sounds like. Neither is poop deck. A crap-fest, on the other hand, couldn't be more spot-on. Cocksure reminds me of Caligula's birthday parties; and titmouse causes my inner child to sprout wings and take flight to absurdly high and erotic aeries that only my id can find. This week, find your rhetoric, check it for defects, and open up a can of spiritual poop-ass.

Sagittarius- If you eat too many carrots, you will turn orange. Likewise if you eat too many bananas, you will become radioactive. If you eat too many of both, you might become the weirdest superhero ever. However, orange, radioactive, and constipated is no way to flaunt yourself about town. I know you relish being quirky, but whatever you're planning these days, it may be too much even for you. Try not being outlandish for five minutes and see what happens.

Capricorn- You and every single atom on this earth were created inside a star. Stars are the mother of us all. They were the first material thing our multiverse created. We are literally the evolution of a star's nuclear material. Our path through this multiverse is obsequious and impossible to predict. Just imagine what you'll evolve into tomorrow. Shine on you crazy diamond.

Aquarius- My personal Muse, not surprisingly, is a monotreme known as the platypus named Aldous. If you see him, don't call him a marsupial, it's incorrect and it really ticks him off. Platypuses are notoriously indolent and hard to get a straight answer out of. Why would I choose a Muse so difficult to utilize? Maybe I'm trying to hard to be original. Maybe because an egg laying mammal is just plain nutty. This week, keep in mind, there are everyday Muses that are just as inspiring, and conveniently ubiquitous.

Pisces- According to Dr. Pants' Razor™, when you do something right, people might not know you've done anything at all. If you can put your need for gratification aside, and applaud your ego in a more subtle fashion, you might just save the world. Or at least someone you love. Save the masturbatory plaudits for your tombstone.