DR. PANTS MCTURD'S
MORE THAN TRUE HORRORSCOPES
(Not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)
Virgo--Whether you call it solipsism or samsara, they require some pretty big assumptions that require unattainable proof and probably miss the point of the whole multiverse. But then again I'm no dualist. Or even a duelist for that matter. I am an empiricist, one however that attempts to remain in accord with the vast sea of knowledge that is simply beyond the current grasp of this semi-evolved, slightly taller than most single celled organisms/man-ape. Order is an illusion. We're moving sand around on a cosmic beach. Have a beer and a crepe and pretend for five seconds that you don't know what you're talking about.
Gemini--The saint-soldier combo is a heavy sword to hone. Although Henry V and Joan of Arc came awfully close. There's too many inherent conflicts of interest. Saints aren't supposed to be riding into battle and soldiers rarely have time for introspection. Killing people is a full time business. Turns out that saintliness also permits very little personal time, way hella praying. If you can find a way to cross pollenate your saints and soldiers into one cogent personality, then you could fight evil, merge with the divine, and maybe even stop getting ripped off by TicketMaster. However, beware the philosophically slippery slope that begins with believing in the phrase:
'I pray for everything I kill and I kill everything that I pray for.'
Aquarius- Can't usually implies won't. Conversely, yes usually means more, please and don't stop. And to make things more unclear, no does not always mean no. Sometimes it means yes please, but don't cross the line. Furthermore, you may not claim the divine right of kings to justify the hole you drilled through the wall into your neighbor's shower. You may, however, plead the fifth. Words and intentions are a quagmire of "half deserted streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent". Stop relying on them. Show me, don't tell me. And happy birthday us....
Taurus--While Teddy Roosevelt was campaigning in 1912, he was shot in the chest, the bullet going through a folded 50 page speech in his pocket and lodging in his torso. He then decided he was fine, and gave the 90 minute speech anyway. We get it, dude, you're a bull moose-- good for you. The bullet was more dangerous to remove so it stayed inside his chest for the rest of his life. But you're no Teddy Roosevelt. You're not even a bull moose, but consider removing all those bullets you've been lodging for probably far too long. You'll feel better and you'll stop being that annoying person that sets off airport metal detectors.
Libra-- The other day someone told me that the blue whale has the largest penis, at like 14 feet-- Uff da. As I pondered this, along with a waking nightmare about giant underwater penises, wreaking havoc on the eastern seaboard of my psyche, I Wiki'd™ 'biggest penis' and it turns out that scientists can only assume that to be true because catching a whale with his ding ding out is no easy task. Speaking of, you're zipped up, right? Nothing flapping in the breeze, either literally or mentally for no reason? Do a double check, make some phone calls and and bake me some cookies with opium in them.
Sagittarius-- Familiarity breeds contempt. Fish and visitors both smell after three days. A bee in your bonnet is worth four incontinent manatees, (although that's a bit redundant!). I don't mean to be a species-ist, but manatees are super gassy, right? They poop a lot is what I heard. Not that there's anything wrong with that; personally I think flatulence is akin to the sound of angels whispering to me the secrets of eternal life. Keep your ears open and if you smell something, it could be the opening bell of your spiritual path beckoning you toward paths unconsidered. Remain unclenched and spiritually just.
Capricorn--Soothsayers, prognosticators and purveyors of the future will often tell you that you are a divided soul, caught between two unhappy masters, under whom unmerciful disaster follows fast and follows faster-- but thankfully you are about to enter a more constructive phase where everything will become clear and you will be rewarded for your fortitude. Such hokum and bunkum says to me that we all feel like the world is collapsing around us all the time, and that the promise of unity of mind, body and spirit will imminently assuage our souls and give us the peace of mind to go bravely into the new world. I, however, promise you nothing. I only wish to remind you of the delusional nature of this dualistic dimension. Good luck and enjoy fish while they still exist.
Leo--You need to be free. You should be running fast and unfettered in the mountains where the baloney grows wild and asparagus can speak english, but with a weird lisp that makes not laughing at them a daunting challenge, and you don't want to insult them lest they curse your pee with devil smell for the rest of your days, cause they have the power to make that stick fer reals, trust me- have the broccoli, way less to deal with. Broccoli likes to be eaten. Can you blame them, who wants to be broccoli 24-7? Bullshit, I choose freedom! Who's with me?! Happy birthday and kick everyone's ass--metaphorically.
Pisces-You're a corkscrew catheter. No wait, you're a carpetbagger with a cacophony of clever cat skills. You're a cantankerous crock pot, containing cretinous kafka-esque cable cars and carved casanovas. You're a crackpot cardboard cut-up, kayaking carnivorously up a creatine creek, creating calming catastrophes, cautious cartwheels and krazy coolness. If you were a cocktail, I would drink you. If you're a waterfall, I would go buy a barrel. Fear not the drop.
Scorpio- "I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness."--- not my words, but in complete agreement with my personal edict aimed directly into your face. You are sunshine, a complimentary cocktail; you're a just out of the oven chocolate chip cookie; and a cold beer on a hot day after pouring concrete and watching football. You're the tops, the bomb, the shizzle in my nizzle or some crap like that. Now, get over yourself and get me an ice cream sandwich and a boilermaker.
Cancer-- It doesn't matter if you're a tone deaf bar of chocolate covered cow patties. Or a philandering philatelist. However, if you are a narcoleptic beaver whacker, I will have to report you to the authorities. I'm not exactly sure what branch of law enforcement deals with that particular felony, hopefully not the bomb squad. Is it morally ethical to whack any beaver? Then again, I personally know many beavers that deserve a good whacking, but then again, who am I to judge any dam building mammal? And are humans and beavers the only dam building animals? To avoid any further confusion, find your moral center, put on your favorite leisure suit and paint the town weird.
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