Dr. Pants Mcturd's MORE Than True Horrorscopes

                                      Dr. Pants McTurd's

                                MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                                                pantsmcturd.blogspot.com

                             (unassociated with horror, nor scopes of any ilk)                                                         

Aries- Your obscure latin power phrase of the week is: Otium cum dignitate. Use it liberally when you lack the power to relaxi your taxi and/or easy your peasey.  It’s greek for leisure with dignity. Ahh, the greeks—the original hippies, all peripatetic and whatnot, probably smoking something from those pushers up in Delphi—oracles, my mediterranean ass! Point is, this ‘verse tis’ain’t ’bout desserts, deserves, nor divinating futurism; BUT RATHER…our brains require healthy spacetime to grow and produce- greenhouse like, conditions that benefit our upward and diversified evolution. Leisure with dignity. Rest without regret. Pleasure sans pain. Power up: and otium cum dignitate the crap out of it. De-stress with dignity, design and desire. 

Taurus- Lots of people say to me, ‘Hey, Doc Pants—do you believe in astrology?’ And I say, ‘Don’t be stupid, Timmy- astrology has nothing to do with belief. It has to do with math.’ In fact, it’s all math; and it’s been practiced for thousands of years. Our relationship with the sky has lessened dramatically since the advent of indoor plumbing; let’s face it, pooping indoors is just way nicer. We used to be tied to the sky for survival as we were tied to the land. Sure the land, and sea are where all the food is; but the sky leads us home, or mayhap onto our next meal. The sky is our calendar, allowing us to push our brains futurewise because we’ll know exactly when to plant. And finally, Timmy, the sky is our imagination; because we can stare into it whenever we want to re-connect with infinity. My advice for the week: Look up. Don’t be a Timmy. Let your mind wander, and your soul will join you mid flight. PS: Don’t read Gemini. Don’t.

Gemini- Warning: the following is rated R, so read accordingly. Your weird and randomly generated power word of the week is: Fascicle. Whether it’s muscle--all sinewy like a cut of perfectly cooked flesh; or a crazy story that you read to me, over a series of nights, whispered softly, a relaxing and aural delight; near dreamtime, where reality becomes fasciclic®—faceted in a multi orgasmic way that layers your story cakelike, festooned with erotic angels, frosting and frothing their way to a fragrant fellated finale of frivolous fuckery… Where was I..? Ah yes, fascicle… layers…multi-causal-infractions, and pov’s colliding simultaneously. Go boldly, Gemini---but cautiously and with passionate intent.

Cancer- Your power punctuation mark for the week is: the semicolon. Yay! I guess…how important is the semicolon? No one knows. One time, this particular well known author (cough..Shakespeare..cough) realized that his plays would make no sense if it wasn’t for the semicolon. And when the Queen outlawed the use of semicolons in all staged theater in 1602, Bill wasn’t worrie’d; he knew that Francis Bacon would be able to convince the Queen to rescind the unjust law; and since Francis was the actual author of the entire Shakespeare canon it seemed a 17^th century no-brainer. Punctuation is nutty, right? This week, you won’t need the whole colon-- just the semi. Punctuate judiciously and generously; and connect your thoughts and dots.          Btw, read Gemini--- if you dare. Not a challenge. Just an idea.

Leo- I got your vibe. It goes a little something like this: Yes, I also dig Beck—he’s groovy, man; and while I simultaneously waver philosophically re his scientological ways, here’s the over-arching thing: I too, am choking like a one man dustbowl, and likewise, I’m still a wino throwing frisbees at the sun, and running like a flaming pig; and sure, I quit my job blowing leaves, telephone bills up my sleeves…but really—L Ron Hubbard? The whole alien thing with the e-meter or whatever the hell…? WTFudge? Same with Tom Cruise; he’s cool, but really…? And Travolta…uff da. Even Charles Manson quit that ‘church’; so did William S. Burroughs. Point is, life is conflicting. We can judge Beck for his musical talent, or his weirdo belief system. Or perhaps we should do both. I say, crank the volume to 11 and ponder a world of relative incongruity.

Virgo- Sure, I’ll beat a dead horse, but never--never, around the bush. Who wouldn’t, right? Speaking of, there are so many ways to skin a cat, but if you swing the dead cat, you’ll probably hit at least a goodly score many of whatever you were hyperbolizing—granted, not on purpose or in a sociopathic way, but still---whoa, might want to peek in to your subconscious there- might be some buildup of unresolved whathaveyous. Metaphor up quick here, Pants…..Okay the Doc is back IN, and the test results are cool: you are poised to overcome all the ridiculous metaphors and idioms that blur the line between literal and juiced up nonsense. Go visceral and dance like a drunken marsupial—the time has come.

Libra- Bruno Mars can take that ‘Just the Way You Are’ song and shove it up his teen titillating ass. The imagery and style of that song causes my bile to raise the threat of chemical warfare in the ol’ alimentary canal. His sister Veronica is so cool and hot, that you’d think Bruno wouldn’t be anywhere near that annoying. Now, Billy Joel and ‘Just the Way You Are’—that’s a pop hit of a different chord. Granted, he wrote it for his first wife that he later divorced for a supermodel, but the sentiment is nice. Bruno’s just trying to get twelve year olds laid. Billy writes for adults, people who’ve been down the path a bit. I know---it’s just business, so don’t hate Bruno, I get it. See if you can apply that to your own fervent dislikes. It’s just business, don’t be a Bruno hater for no reason.

Scorpio- I’m going to poop a dinosaur fossil for you; one that is balls deep inside a transient transoceanic fishy matrix-- justifiably and daintily righteous—not like Nixon or Christ, or Paar or Carson; but like a momentary fractal, sometimes sideways and most likely borne of a constabulary conflagration of sideways eights and distended aortae, that will most likely lead down dead end hallways with many cautionary tales behind mystery dportals. Howeversome-ever®, your mesozoic is looking particularly fresh right now. I say, grab a stegosaurus, a 24 pack and some quaaludes---this week is gonna get weird; also to purposely mention, volubly verbose, trans-continental, and interplanetary.  Also, don’t read Taurus. Or Leo. Don’t.

Sagittarius- I know you’ve been thinking about it for a long time, but now is beautifully designed moment for you to sequester yourself in another language. It will not happen overnight, it’s a process; but it will make your already elastic brain a little more stretchy and healthy; and you will live longer and happier. A foreign tongue automatically bridges the gap twixt class, socio economic status, race, emigrational positioning, politics---everything. To grok someone, you walk a mile in his or her idioms, sayings and expressionisms. En español, the word for language is lengua, which also means tongue. So, just pick a tongue--any tongue and dive in. Your mouth is ripe for a new level of conversation. 

Capricorn- There’s always lot’s of loose talk about the whole soul thing; and its corollary—reincarnation; as well as the impermeability and infinite existence of an intangible thing that must be believed in to exist; and the lack of scientific evidence of a soul is simply unsupportable. But hey—maybe we currently lack the technology and math to define a soul—like a god particle or some other intangible quanta of matter that science geeks assure me exists—and then go on to tell me that existence is impossible to define due to a break down in language, or lengua--Maybe nothing’s real. Mayhap nothing exists. Frak and Dingleberry!, do you know what this means?!?! Neither do I. You ponder and get back to me; but for now--believe no thing.

Aquarius- One of the shittiest doldrumic ass hats one inevitably wears is the inadvertent, unplanned and unintentional insult to another person’s sensitivity or character that arises because of the dreaded foot-in-mouth disease that affects even high brained people, such as our illustrious selves. And while the quality of mercy is not strained, and despite the fact that feelings of guilt are remnants of evolutionary incidentalism, can I please wash your feet?; like Teresa, or Pope Francis, or from one lover to another? Despite our cranial capacities, Aquarians are rarely greedy, insensitive or cruel, but we can be temporarily unaware of our surroundings, due to a nomadic imagination and unexpected outbursts of genius brain lightning. Point is, if you’re going to feel guilt, you should also explore the flip side---forgiveness, a light heart, and infinite compassion. 

Pisces- Depending on your sexual orientation, your power fish of the week is either the weedy seadragon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phyllopteryx, or the leafy seadragon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leafy_sea_dragon. The relative rarity and inevitably endangered status of these marvelous creatures, designed by god or nothing, or evolution, or Charlie Darwin—who knows, and who cares; they are fan-frakking-tastic. And the males give birth and take care of the kids?—who knew? Figures that they’re from down unda… Point is tho, merge your fishy mind with the dragon’s fishy mind, and you will double your already impressive aquatic powers. Aquaman??! You’ll be able to kick his telepathic fish-controlling ass. Legion of Awesome!!