DR. PANTS MCTURD'S
MORE THAN TRUE HORRORSCOPES
(Not associated with actual horror or scopes of any ilk)
Taurus--- Pamplona. Running of the bulls. In essence---you guys. If you're lucky, you gore a couple of not fast enough morons, before you're speared and parsed and split infinitively for kabobs, driven into chaos, hopefully bound for higher levels of knowledge and peace. Maybe the bulls love the run, because it's their only shot at redemption. Do bulls have feelings? I have no clue, but I do know intrinsically and entirely wholeheartedly, that you are an unstoppable brahma bull. Charge and run and feel your crazy brutish strength before you enter the heavens, and your next unstoppable level. Be Bodacious and all will step aside.
Gemini---- According to myth, which is akin to legend, and therefore possibly containing a kernel of a grain of a fractal of reality--Rome was created by the twins Romulus and Remus. They were raised and suckled by a wolf. Kinda neat, If you're into that kinda thing. And it's no accident that the Romulan planet from the Star Trek Universe is named for the survivor of the two twins, who gets the credit for founding Rome--which is inevitably linked with bloat and pork and Caligulian baths, possibly filled with boiling blood and the vestiges of vestals of virgins. Yours is not a burden, but a crown of stupidly awesome glory. Feed the myth to your medulla and reap the milk of god like wolves.
Cancer--- Your theme song for the week is reminiscent of the late 1970's, when macho was muy mucho mas burt reynolds style, and the differential between the realization of feminine freedom and the actuality of california based feminism, created a sexy, smart and powerful woman. Yay, 70's. I posit that you are Goldie Hawn, Lillian Gish, Grace fucking Kelly, The unfairly maligned Mata Hari, and Garbo eggrolled into a 21st century morsel of intense proportion. The power is in the feminine. Bask, and grok deeply, the mother, Gaia, who gave birth to us all. Inner city's breakin and everybody's shakin, baby...
Leo--- Living in the body of a powerful beast--maybe even kingmost of the jungle beastly--can be a huge burden. The anger one is forced to carry like a cudgel of order---it's heav, man! And even though to you the burden is nothing-like carrying a pyramid on your head like those African women carry baskets. The powerful soul inside a body that both roars and purrs with the alacrity and swagger of a merciful pirate--a freebooter out for his own good. You are not a temple to a false god or prophet. You are the balance of power that engenders transcendent thought. Nice kitty. Meow and meat and feline coyness.
Virgo--- If I were you, and shit knows that I want to go to there-- I would rub our collective noses in your munificent scent; I would drive the demons forever forward from your indigenous nose and super secret ear lobes and little known ticklish spots. The sound that hits your medulla should be tremendous and mozart and full of fiber and potassium and ginger. You are a literal reliquary of earthly delights. Keep it up and dance a nuclear jig. You smell munificent and are blessed with the grace of gods and other heavenly folk.
Libra--- There is a moving river of frozen ice that bifurcates you braniac hemispheres. And it's gnarly and impressive. Super gnarly. So much raw power at your cranial finger pointers...you're impressive. Ya got what they call balls and fortitude and moxy. Nice. But i get the felling you're stuck mid straddle fencewise and could use a push, preferably to the side of the Force with the blue and/or green light sabers. Dive and don't fret, for there's a net that will appear out of thin breathable atmosphere, which will fill your air sign lungs with breathable love juice, just like the weird end of The Abyss.
Scorpio--- I'm not sure you're really emblematic of a scorpion. I'm not implying that you wouldn't stand toe to toe with tyranny and fear and asshole despots, until either justice got served up with a twist, or you burn at the stake while swinging your poisonous tail...but I think scorpios are healers and lovers and gentle like baby lambs having a tea party with Ken dolls and bunnies, but with a dash and peppering of Caligula and an a shot of an Anthony Burgess novel. But...you gotta break eggs to get to omelette town. Swing your faux tail judiciously, and mayhap you'll be of service to everyone...or at the least yourself---be the change, be the example.
Sagittarius--- The Minaret of Jam is not fruit flavored. Jam if the river it's next to and it's over 900 years old. Btw, it's in Afghanistan and it's an Islamic dedication to Mary in obelisk form. Yep, Jesus' mommy in Afganistan.. Point is, I recommend you read the book LAMB, by Christopher Moore. Extremism is never the answer, it's far too myopic for the Vishnuvian vision of that pervades our multiverse. It would be so nice if there were a pole position that we could all focus 'round in times of disunion and panic. But all there is, is the spinning of matter, spun from fate's webby loins. The irony contained in the Minaret of Jam is not something you can learn---just pick your favorite flavor and smear it on the toast of ironic freedom.
Capricorn
What's the deal with spotted dick? I would have guessed it was a ribaldrous name for a spotted duck of some kind, probably from Sweden, cause we all know they require a lot of sex just to survive the winters. And while I don't want to diss the quality of Swedish porn, nor the hotness of the indigenous population, it turns out spotted dick is another contribution to the world of cuisine from the Brits. It's a custard made of suet, which is beef fat from the loins, and custard and dried fruit. Mmmmmmm. What's my point? Maybe that life on an island requires a certain intestinal fortitude. Mayhap, you should drop the unnecessary traditions and clean your plate with a smiley face.
Aquarius
We, adrift in cosmic foam, awaiting the event horizon, where we assume all will be revealed. But how can a black hole, a singularity be emitting radiation? Wtf particles can escape that which light cannot? What fresh hell is this? My previous theory was that black holes were the reproductive engines of the multiverse--each new event horizon, regardless of size, is your ticket to another 'verse, ad infinauseum. Infinite variety, as any creator would endow. No end-all-be-all, no ultimatums...infinite diversity being the watchwords. Happy Birthday to the early Aquarii of us, and those to come. We are future.
Pisces
We all have crosses to bear, ..I guess. There a vague hope alive inside me that wants to believe that those crosses are optional. That albatross took its fate into its own feathers. You should regret nothing, and bear no burden. "After" this " life"' we will reconnoiter and palaver and mend fences with fresh chocolate chip cinnamon cookies, and all will be restored---not to a reasonable, logical conclusionary solids, but rather a forgiveness of self, something we all have earned. Your cross is a symbol of the need for forgiveness of "sins"--which are falsehoods in deific robes. Drop the cross, ankh, or symbol deserving of dumping. Light is your burden. Swim fast.
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