Dr. Pants Mcturd's MORE Than True Horrorscopes

                                    Dr. Pants McTurd's

              MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                     

               (not associated with horror, nor scopes of any ilk)

                                 

disclaimer: If satire makes you pissed, try repenting for your trespass.

Doc P’s Word of the Week: TARTUFFERY. My bullshit is all super honest—I swear to god.

Aries-  99 Luftbalons got way hard und sehr schnell and super fer reals. Two kids buying balloons---ooh, fun!, but then they release said balloons and radar somewhere picks them up and somebody (probably the french) start a nuclear war. Then after all the rubble and radioactivity, one kid is dead and the other, who has consequently grown up in a nuculearly desiccated holocausted zombie filled landscape, lets one more balloon go upwards, towards a german heaven, I guess, and hey—Prost! NUCLEAR WAR! Yay! I guess…or supposes I interpret how growing up in the times where nuclear war was my biggest fear, is inconsequential based on all the crapola we now face. The grass is always greener—try watering your lawn and festooning your iTunes.

Taurus- The Snake River Plain, when viewed from space, would blow your freakin’ mind. No doi and for reals. The “Grand” Canyon is cool, yeah…but think about Idaho for a millisecond! Imagine the forces at work to make any pluvial area---much less one like the oft forgotten, yet moderately impressive Snake River Plain-- compared with the likes of the big boys like Waimea (despite the sub-versal of lava for water), or the Chicamocha, the Baltis Vallis (somewhere super hot), or the Saturnalia Fossa (somewhere not drive-able from here) Balls! Water is a massive force! And while its origins may have limited debate…comets—(cough)---space debris—massive dump---similar to the flood that must have visited us in pre history…wow and frak! And, now, we control it via dams so massive that can be seen from space, to flow controlled and seepingly from taps, all fluoridated and potable. Take a larger view and be amazed.

Gemini- Some moments are portals in time. Some moments collide. Maybe you’re vacuuming, or doing dishes, or eating panned cakes with boysenberry syrup—and that particular flavor reminds you of some past memory, faded into the patchwork, that now blooms, fully representing from down deep the subcutaneous—clear as a crystal bell ringing centerwise in your town square; there it is--- a lost moment recovered, and you can live in it, for at least a moment—and it’s so clear that your brain shimmies and shakes and takes it for truth. The moment will eventually crash down like a wave upon the beach, smattering the past back into the tapestry of mind and neurons, to be called up and culled from a myriad of threads—a plethora of seemingly disjointed hiccups in time. Your work is fertile, and your pathways green lit from here to the end of “time”.

Cancer- The earth exists to massage and catch us; a rivulated net, curvated and twisted and oddly uniform. And it is never planned, it’s always spontaneous, like that kiss you wish you could bestow, but that the timing is never right and there are convictions and conflicting testimony as to what’s right and what’s desirable. The earth can also break convention, internal heat radiating like a convection oven turned to broil, to maximize the soul’s infusion into lips and sweat and naked longing made real and permanent. There is a time for decision! There is a when for jumping and being made skyclad! There is a moment that will be right and opportune and momentous. And it is near.

Leo- The box huckleberry, aka the box-leaved whortleberry, might be the oldest living plant, with the exception of the Audrey II…and it is pissed. It reproduces clonally; it’s Appalachian and it’s self-sterile---and worst of all---it’s woody—SUPER WOODY. No self respecting conifer would ever live near it. No self effacing aspen would clonalize anywhere but uptown; leaving the downtown to the huckle and buckle of the berry known to any and all flora, as the self proclaimed king of salubrious skullduggerous shrubbery! They’ve survived since the previous ice age—and will likely last through the next---(due to start around 2040 based on current climate models anyway!) This week, your power animal is the huckleberry. Steady and moderately paced wins the race.

Virgo- The best part of waking up is not Colombian—it’s not being dead; which theoretically, should be pretty awesome, and there might even be time for a cup of joe, before we begin our travails and rev our engines ‘gainst the mighty legends of times past. Now is the time. NOW, the when that is super attenuated to the will of a certain someone—an individual with outstanding moxie and balls made of transparent alumium. in this case---YOU, you silly son of a bastard. YOU, with your pretty frock and coattails that are infamous about this town. YOU lucky so and so…We’re all jealous, man—fer real. Now go out there and kick some ass of some kind. It’s not Tony Danza---YOU’RE the BOSS. Now get outta here, kid, ya bother me.

Libra- One of the most poisonous animals in the world is a cute little yellow frog. Known in the amphibian underworld as Phyllobates terribilis, it is esoteric and irrelevant to note that it is poisonous, not venomous; meaning it won’t bite you or spit at you, but touch it once and you’re dead. Luckily, elephants don’t occur naturally in Columbia, or we could see a real life David and Goliath competition. Altho, it would probably end Hamlet style, with a dead frog smooshed by the elephant, who would later die from touching the frog. Will the cycle of frog on pachyderm violence ever end? Will we ever stop pitting mismatched animals against one another in to the death cage matches?? I doubt it. It’s part of the beauty of capitalism. But I’ve digressed. This week, take a shower and wash off all the poison on your back and let someone touch you. Get a massage and don’t kill anyone, amphibian or otherwise.

Scorpio- The lesula is a newly discovered species of monkey. And their butts are bright blue. And their faces are so human, I keep confusing them with this photo I have of my great uncle Chesticles, who fought in the Peloponnesian War. My whole family is still really anti-Sparta. Anyhowdy, somewhen in old olden times, it became advantageous to have a big blue butt; and that trait has lasted until today times, at least in Congo anyway. And since the french and belgians left behind such stability and equanimity after the pillaging of Congo became less profitable, the outlook for the blue butted lesula is not great. My suggestion to you is to paint your butt in your favorite butt color (mine is dirigible red®), and show your tail feathers to friends and prospective mates. The key to your entire future lies in your butt.

Sagittarius- The saguaro wages wars of attrition and the prize is Arizona. Not sure what second prize is, but I bet it sucks only slightly more. Currently gun crazed hypocritical bigots run Arizona, but with the world ending in December and the survivors envying the dead and all, the saguaros once again will be crowned king--the all mighty Despot of the Sonoran Desert. For centuries, long before any human migration into the area, these giant cacti that always seem to be flipping us off, took over the southwest---and they looooove Arizona. The Saguaro Nation previously ruled Texas, “New” Mexico, and oddly enough halfway around the world in Delaware. But their bellicose nature and need for dominance forced other plant species to bond together to keep out the green spiked menace, and trap them in the Phoenix, which is truly hotter than crap on a stick that’s on fire. Phoenix. Ashes. Rebirth…wait—piece this together and be fruitful and multiply.

Capricorn- I spy with my little eye, a big pile of pigshit. And I don’t want to point any fingers, lest they find their way into any such piles; but I am looking in your direction. Don’t act shocked. Lies do not become the intimacy of our relationship. Your mouth is a brigand; and your constitution is troubled by remnants of uncivilized thought. I urge to bring your full honesty to bear. Pry lose the boulders of incontinence and the serpentine rock wall that dominates our globe. The idea!---that you could put up a fence that would not ultimately fence you in---like from the world and shit. I spy with my watery eye, the need for skylights and ultimately, release from your safe prison of interminable solitude. Cry havoc, and let slip the poop of peace.

Aquarius- Before you place that psychoactive toad under your tongue, consider this: there are easier ways to visionquest than licking strange amphibians. Speaking as someone who’s mos def been there with the frog thing, it is unpleasant and awkward if you have a working relationship with said amphibian, or worse yet the frog is your boss AND your roommate. Chapter 8 of my memoirs will be about that; but here’s the not so delicate point: You’re already a traveler; a warp speed mind that flips off the entire Higgs Field as you streak by at supertemporal® speeds. But now it’s martini time--time to chill the frak out, and get paid, get laid and spread those sexy greased up legs. Fear not, for the earth will catch you.

Pisces- Some people desire to be elite. As if there’s a pride that’s unattainable to the naked man in the street, who’s probably begging for help, crying in pain, and we—WE who are world weary and welded shut with nuclear bonds, whose half life is millions of years in the making—WE who are frozen in time, probably because ours is a perpetual winter; and the river of time is a frozen skating pond for indolent time wasters and manipulators of destinies—who else could waste so much time, save for those who believe themselves elite, effete and untouchable because of some arbitrary moral code, that surely we must all agree on. Some people... But now it is down to just we, and moreover and more importantly—YOU. Nothing can stop you…but only if you try.