Dr. Pants McTurd's
MORE Than True Horror-scopes
disclaimer: Satire is a circle. And it wants to bite your ass.
this week: The difference between you and me, is irrelevant and puny.
Aries- Revolution in-, e- and de- volves the revolve. Fer reals. Our epic 'verse loves circles more than any other construct. It's sturdy, single minded of purpose, and brilliant for teaching species with selective hearing, how to better get along in the world, flinging considerably less feces, especially considering that we possess technology to fling shit pretty far these days. The principle of the circle is one you could, were you so inclined to not be stubborn for 5 seconds, apply and integrate into your current emotional wetlands. If I'm right and everything operates in circles, there's something in the road up ahead. When you meet, it will be epic, lovey dovey, and transcendental. Have lunch after and call me.
Taurus- Why do the words walnut and vomit almost rhyme? Why won't I grow up and buy a toaster oven? I like toast as much as anyone. And jam is one of my favorite experiences in the history of my experiences, especially if it involves multiple berry types, snozzberry and uberberry®, for example. And a really good quality bread, toasted just right, maybe a dab of butter, maybe give my heart a run for my money. Or better yet, some cream cheese. Yeah, dude, it's on. High time to get my jam on, maybe whilst wearing my jammies-- a veritable Jammy Jam Jamboree®! Wait. What does that have to do with walnut and vomit? Is that a new cartoon on AdultSwim? Wow, we are truly lost if toast and jam can distract us so. Find your center, it's right to the left of where you left it, right? It and Garfunkel are waiting silently for you.
Gemini- Sorry, but to vent is divine, don't take it personally, it's about me, not you. Why the fudge is the word colonel spelled that way? What moron decided that l = r ? What?... the italians? And then the french, and then the english stole it, and the war of word escalated between factions who insisted on pronouncing it with an r, as opposed to the way those puhsghetti® eaters with all their highfalutin latin roots. I'm no prude, but stealing words involves a heavy responsibility,. Now we own it and we're saying it this way, ha ha, my word now, sucker! Suck it, tsunami, up yours kayak, and go straight to hell yeti, dinghy, penguin (from the welsh oddly enough), aardvark, bazooka, bung, cockatoo, geek, gherkin, gnu, poppycock, hoist, hankering, iceberg, knickerbocker, and not to mention etc etc, etc ad infinauseum®. Spell your words clearly, they are your gob's wiki shillelagh.
Cancer- The untold story of crabs is their immense propensity for serious ass kicking. Who knew? They're no shrinking violet anemones, often mislabeled as shy and secretive, in forced abeyance to the moon and the tides. The crab can be found in every ocean on earth. Impressive, right? You sideways gait is merely the result of a grievous Herculean kick that sent you to the stars. I would walk funny after that too. Enshrouded in myth, our ancestors who lived by the sea, lived off the crab. You are the fuel of seagoing humankind. And you're delicious. Blue crab sushi roll done right = yumm yumm in one's tumm tumm. The travesty is the crab's connection to the disease; the scourge, the plague, an evil poison corrupting our systems normal function. However, keep in mind that cancer is nature's catalyst gone wrong in the hopes of mutating in a favorable way. The road to the crab shack is paved with good intentions? Adversity enlightens clarity? You may be sideways, but you're right on. Mutate and unfold.
Leo- The glass half empty/full is a two sided argument that confines our expansive 'verse into a choice between a paltry two dimensions. I see the glass as not even a glass at all. To me, it's a rainbow that turns into a stairway to heaven (patent pending). Sure, it's got some wetness to it, but I wouldn't want to stand up and be quoted definitively or verbatimly™ that such nimrodderly® minded logic is any way to describe a multi dimensional 'verse, of which we understand about as much as we understand why veal is so delicious and morally wrong. Nor would I like to be questioned as to the true definition of wet. We all know wet when we feel it, even if it's dark and we're unsure of the source. 'How much' is such middle earth mystic crapola. Forget trying to define the subjective. And btw, all 'things' are subjective. You're already mostly water, I suggest you try to BE THE GLASS.
Virgo- My roots are in bourbon country. I'm not talking about the genetic proclivity toward alcoholism that clearly runs in my family, and probably the vast majority of all bloodlines; especially considering that illusion is generally preferable to despair; not to mention that pretty much anything containing even trace amounts of sugar is fermentable into a weird tasting liqueur that will keep you in the bathroom for some time, probably around 4am. god's Biochemistry is mind beguilingly trippy. Everything I put in me, comes out as something else. And hey, no cheap crotch or taint references here, but rather I would offer something of grander importance, perhaps even of grandeur. I am an adult after all. (cough, fuck you, cough) Do you love all the things you put in you? Maybe you should.
Libra- Yeah, I drink your milkshake. Deal with it. I will also kiss you whenever the urge hits me. You remind me of cinnamon toast and old porn tapes on VHS. If I could dance, I would tango your hot little ass all the way to a remote island where we would be married and you would have my babies and we would eat cocoanuts and fish-- lots and lots of fish. AND... I.. DRINK.. YOUR.. MILKSHAKE. Fortunately, you're both elusive and evasive and you will not be caught. And even if I could catch you, I would immediately regret it. Freedom is your best color, you wear it regally like a kind king, a gently god or a beatific bhudda. You are my Muse, among other reasons, to preserve your freedom. That and you amuse me in the nicest way.
Scorpio- Semi colons make me feel important. If I can slip them into the written word, I feel powerful, like I've got so many ideas that I simply don't have time for any bloody periods, no pun intended; clever word play gives me hard-ons; and I'm not even british, so I have no business being so blatant, but damn, you smell good, like fresh bread, out in the country, in a cabin probably by a lake or a stream, or maybe a strawberry farm; and together we'd go berry picking, before the sun grows too high and the heat stroke inducing; O the hours we'd while away making pies and eating bread and making sex tapes by that river or whatever; and we could be together, at least for a small moment. Your colon is anything but semi.
Sagittarius- I recognize this feeling. It's why I started smoking in the first place. Been quit now for going on 7 years. Yeah, I'm pretty cool, but right now, I could really go for a smoke. Amazing how something so full of evil can feel so good. The rebellion, the nicotine buzz, I can feel my lungs and my brain getting a hard-on together, all the little alveoli just sucking up that smoke and tar like a chocolate milkshake. Unfortunately, I know myself. One cigarette is a long slippery and cancerous slope to a pack a day, probably in about a week's time. I know the future and can avoid it. How many things are you smarter than? And when will you spend more time creating futures that will be, rather than ones you're afraid of allowing yourself to become? Take your time, the test will be next thursday.
Capricorn- I am a culture of one. There is no one like me, and I am completely unique, and btw fuck off, I'm gonna drink this bourbon and I'm also gonna have a steak, that's barely cooked, and it's probably gonna be washed down with some more bourbon, but more of a nice finisher, and then some brandy, and then some chocolate, and yes, I may bleed a little tomorrow, but it's my life, it's my cotillion, and please 'take thy form from off my door', to quote the Great One (E.A.P.-- duh.). 'It is the beating of my hideous heart!', and I will not impede its evolutionary progress in this dimension. They can take my life, but they'll never take my FREEDOM. Call me if you need help, I'll be at the buffet.
Aquarius- The rate at which you infect my soul is exponential and approaching incalculability. Do not, therefore, light my candle or my fuse. Do not fire any rockets, ground to air flatulence bombs®, or balloons filled with yogurt and shaving cream. Also refrain from pumping anyone's nads, drowning your sorrows, or turning any swords into any kind of community based tool, not because it smacks of communism, but because my generation still thinks the Cold War might come back. Damn commies always up in my nuclear face, threatening me over various "democratic" islands in the damn caribbean, and forcing me to retreat in far away war torn places that have no real strategic value; it's more for the pissing contests, the bragging rights, and what about all the oil and opiate revenues. Or... there's a force in the world that shadows us, undercurrenting our AC with its DC, our conscious with its collective unconscious, god forbid a yin and/or a yang, or even a pregnant and an as not yet pregnant. Good and evil evolve us equally and in the final analysis are subjective and subjected to ever changing laws. Think about that shit for a spell. Oh and have a nice birthday.
Pisces- Tomorrow you will find a suitcase full of money, or a bag full of diamonds, or maybe some krugerrands from an 80's cop movie that you could later exchange for german bearer bonds. Then you can hedge fund your crooked gains and retire to an island where you'll finally have the time to take up basket weaving like you've always wanted to. You will also find true love. It may be in a form you don't expect, like one of those hairless cats that creep me out, or a cult leader that convinces you to sell all your shit and give him the money, so that when the aliens come, your spaceship ticket will be paid for in full. Perfect happiness is only one suitcase away.
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