Dr Pants McTurd's

More Than True Horror-scopes

(not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Quality Futurism That Doesn’t Suck!

♈ Aries –That elusive rhythm your mind’s been toying with, a new beat maybe, or a plot device as yet uninvented & unimagined, that’s been brewing & fermenting inside your fiery innards, probably full of hops, that will surely cause indigestion—better out than in, says the Dr Pants. The current astro clime is ripe and rife with unfettered & unbridled permission for restricted ids to release outdated, unneccessary and futile excursions the wrong way down one way streets that end in backwards cul de sacs of infuriating dismal failures. The summer sun is kind and munificent well into Aug. For now, have some bbq, contemplate Marxism and the labor you trade for your life and promise of propriety & property. Rest and find your missing rhythm while it’s omnipresent & undisturbed & antipodal of the upcoming melee of celestial September shennanigans. Party on, Garth.

♉ Taurus –The current celestial clime suggests that you put away your maiden blushes and avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress—or emperor, basically a big kahuna in charge, til at least the Pisces full moon on the 8^th, you should be introducing yourself right off, as soon as you get somewhere unfamiliar, just put yourself out there and introduce yourself right off, the party’s been waiting or you, just introduce yourself right off. Right on! Elsewise no one gets to know you, and now is the safest time in a long time to dump the load, cleanse your privates, and release it all back into the ether. Everything is energy in infinite perpetual motion, so introduce yourself right off!

♊ Gemini –The skies are currently informing the Dr Pants to inform you, a fellow and truly likeable air sign, to avail your airy self to all available astro energy, to go to that special Tristan de Cunha in your mind. Tristan de Cunha btw, is one of the most remote inhabited islands in the world, lost somewhere in the south Atlantic, inhabited by the same families that settled it decades ago—yeah, fairly incestuous town of 264, with only one road, no air strip, and of Scottish descent—probably lots of crayfish haggis. Remote is the Dr Pants’s point. A cleansing Pisces full moon on the 8^th will appear & clear foggy events of recent past. Find your isle, then enisle yourself. Come back when you’re ready.

♋ Cancer –This week, the celestial action above us might seem to you like a pleasant serein. Oui, the french spelling is prettier—serain, or similarly serene. A serein btw is a gentle rain falling from a clear sky, usually at dusk, when dewpoint and humidity get it on, meteorologically speaking, and under a cloudless sky a gentle mist condenses from air, returning to earth afloat on misty diaphanous wings of gossamer, while the sunset’s last photons hit your face, perhaps reminding you, yes you there, in the wet t-shirt, that everything is energy, always moving from one shell, one valence, one chakra to another in patterns we will ever try to grasp. For now, the sky wants you to practice your sereinity, and return to your most moist happy place. Sept will be wack—Serenity now.

♌ Leo –Okay, so bullcrap bullcrap yadda yadda, and there’s a bunch of astrology that promises you some unforseen treasure, or even that o’er that horizon lay ubiquitous bounty, but only if you get off your arse and get your bullcrap attitude straight. But the Dr Pants insists, frak those nabobs and let’s get down to cases and make a case for astronomy and maybe anthropolgy, and hopefully provable science, & posit thusly: 1) Your bullcrap attitude is macho and everyone loves it, 2) No mystical energy field controls your destiny, 3) There’s no such thing as luck. That said, the Dr Pants insists that the current astro clime tells him that luck, mystical energy and your own personal brand of bullcrap attitude are what will save any stain from setting in—at least for the next week, you got magic hands, but only if you maintain a magic mind and maybe wand.

♍ Virgo –More good news—Virgo the Virginian, you got the Sun in the constellation Virgo for a while now, so continued happy birthday times, but you also get Mercury in Virgo til the 2^nd. What does it all mean?? 1) It’s your birthdays, who cares? Pass the bottle. 2) Quick Merc primer: it goes around the Sun once every 88 days, compared to our 365, which is why Merc has always been associated with communication—mucho speedy right, and lucky virgin, you, the thrice yearly Merc retrograde isn’t until solar Libra—the Dr Pants says, let them deal with it—there’s vestal devirgening parties to attend! 3) After the 5^th, Venus moves into Virgo, which implies that if you get out of your own way, everything will keep moving your way. Don’t rock the boat—no pirated attacks til Oct at least. Party on, Garth, you beautiful bastard, and happy continued birthday times.

♎ Libra –Currently there’s lots of celestial action in Virgo, which pre-augurs an incoming & impending solar Libra time and birthdays for the collective lot of you’s. And a regularly sheduled equinox to boot! But before we get to your party, the sky above us needs to pass thru the earthy Virgin sun, and emerge, covered in the loamiest of loam, birthed under the full moon light of a Pisces full moon on the 8^th. Lots of earth and water, occasional mud and mud baths, so bring boots with ya and a towel to dry off with after a very cleansing hose down. Currents and climates are shifting with the cooling of the northern hemi, and Libran transistion is nigh. Sit tight, count your walnuts and meditate on what you’ll do with all the airy energy coming your way soon. Earth becomes air.

♏ Scorpio –Celestially speaking, a water fire sign like yourself should currently be feeling a tingle, that should be growing in vibrational intensity over the next couple weeks, and here’s some why: Sun is in the constellation Virgo, arable virgin loamy earth, squishable between the toes and almost bursting with life, and soon Mars, planet of the malleable fist will shift to Sag as of the 13^th, but before that a juicy phsycian heal thyself full moon in Pisces on the 8^th. Sept should be funaklicious, but for now, contemplate a communist inspired Labor Day three day weekend, tend to your needs and feel yourself up. Future fire water en route. For now, bask, salve thyself & resuscitate.   

♐ Sagittarius -Not a lot of fire in the sky this week, pity for you Sag types, and Mars isn't due to enter Sagittarius—yes indeed, Woo Hoo!—until the 13^th. Most of the sky is seductive loamy Virgin earth, a few up drafts of allegedly balanced Libran air, and some sassy Scorpionic malefactors hanging out on the sidelines hoping for a fair foul ball to snatch up, get autographed and make ten bucks on eBay. This Labor Day enjoy some BBQ, study some Marxism, and prepare for a Sept of surprises, replete with topsy tipsy curvy tilt a whirl action that will make your undergarments moist and full of pep. Rest and regale now, action hero shite starts in about a week.

♑ Capricorn -The late summer skies are calm and frothy this week, all pulling and grinding twixt loamy fertile Vigin earth, allegedly balanced Libran air, and a bit of Scorpionic fire water thrown in—open air mud baths for everyone! In the meantime, let's consider Labor Day with all it's end of summer BBQ dreamy drunken pantsless depravity, and the oft ignored connection to the beginnings of Marxism and Communism and labor unions and inevitable corruption even amongst those of us who claim to fight for the rights of the worker—Koch brothers and workers of the world unite! No pyramids or other pointless structures need be built this week, save the ones in your mind that attest to a higher truth. Stray towards the peripatetic, walkabout the earth, and vision quest.

Aquarius ♒ -The ability of our signage to get lost attempting to discover and catalogue the endless minutuae of this ‘verse is both a blessing and a curse, n'es pas? Obsession does not begin to ascribe the detail we Aquarii deal with, the sheer need to analyze and grok the shite out of everything we encounter—We must devour with all haste the impassable mountains of—whoa, nellie!! Apparently the Dr Pants should heed his own forthcoming advice, which reads thusly: Soon, and with as little planning as possible, find your weekend escape asap, and go to there, but you must find something larger than yourself, could be the ocean, or an eagle’s aerie, or the desert under a waxing moon that’s to be full in Pisces on the 8^th, and dump your load to the stars above. Every brain deserves a respite. Enisle yourself, and consult the skies.

♓ Pisces –No bullshite, this time of year is a bitchin’ time to be a Pisces. Consider: behind the Sun right now is the constellation Virgo, your astro opposite and equal and often—life partner, the new moon was just recently in Virgo the virginest of vestals, and on the 8^th is your one time per annum full moon in Pisces, the halfway  point of the entire zodiac, where even non-Virgins can become new again. Whatever you can think, dream or conjure up might coalesce into reality, so use these two weeks wisely. It’s all coming up Pisces, and only you can get in your own way of the ubiquitous treasure that is afoot and underfeet. It’s Virgin earth you stand on, so—sow those magic beans you been hoarding, for something’s about to happen—something wonderful, and probably erotic.  

Dr Pants McTurd's

More Than True Future-scopes

(not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Quality Futurism That Doesn’t Suck!

♈ Aries –All we are is dust in the wind? The Dr Pants calls bullshite, and furtherly adds that we’re not dust, but rather former star stuff, like literally every atom that makes up you was forged inside a star and belched outward into ever colder space, which till then didn’t exist, and that as the Sagan famously said, there are more stars in the universe than there are grains of sand on all the beaches of planet Earth. That said, in our little corner of the ‘verse we got lots of planets in Leo, and lots in Scorp, dividing our efforts between fire and fire water, and it’s coming into harvest time, the Sun into Virgo—the vestalist of virgins, and a new moon also in Virgo on the 25th, hopefully making land bridges appear twixt opposing forces. We are not dust, but star dust under full solar sail.

♉ Taurus –Holding up two fingers means peace in some locales, while in others it means, ‘Up yours Frenchie, I still got my two fingers!’ You see, if an archer was captured by the opposing army, the French were known for cutting off the first two fingers of the drawing hand, eliminating all future archery. That said, the Dr Pants reccommends all earth signs to observe the incoming Virgo virgin new moon on the 25^th as a land bridge between the current celestial forces of planets in Leo and Scorpio—between fire and fire water and the hashing of things out. Use whatever fingers you have for the peace sign, there’s a bridge not too far afield and we can enjoy summer’s peak, as the world turns on. 

♊ Gemini –Truth and beauty are subjective, & consequently, a lesser fool might be better served by not choosing to be subjected to what boils down to an opinion. How does one choose to not do something? The Dr Pants also has no clue, but he also knows that quitting cigarettes almost a decade ago, made him a temporary expert at choosing to not do something, and consequently, doing something else instead—opium if ya got any, and bourbon if you don’t—just kidding, the Dr Pants only huffs paint to make it thru the day—just kidding, anything you have will do. Point is, is that you choose, by choosing differently & otherwise. Current astro climes are primed to bring your subjective desires into objective reality, like a 3-D printing machine. Choose different, choose better, then rinse and repeat. 

♋ Cancer -Lots of photons right now, as we edge into early late summer—in the northern hemi anyhoo, vitamin D building up like super hero powers in the bloodstream, shoring up walls and defending battle mounts and castles and turrets, a great wall designed to keep out barbarians that would else storm the gates—solution: no gates, no front door, just a freakin’ wall from sea to sea, fondling rivers and rubbing sweetly against unpassable mountains, finding destiny's reach all too trite, pre-planned, and isolated. This week pulls us earthbound types twixt a weird angle ‘tween Leo and Scorpio, fire and fire water—oh, and a new moon on the 25^th is in sun hoarding Virgo, the very vessel of the virgin mary martyr, oh and in 2 weeks a full moon in Pisces—expect a sweet cleanse.

♌ Leo –You’ve been perched for some time atop one weird, wild, wooly and wanton wonton, and many—no, several of your colleagues—not a small number mind you, have specifically petitioned the Dr Pants to intervene on their concerned behalves. Behalfs? Doesn’t look right, does it? Anyhoo, celestially speaking the skies are ripe for unplucking a few feathers and disposing of all false fronts, so dig out your mojo stick, dust it off, and let’s take it peacefully to the streets. Your birthday’s again another year off, but there’s still partying to be done, as there’s big planets pulling us between Leo and Scorpio—fire and fire water, and the sweet elixir of a new moon in Virgo on the 25^th, land bridging the two together and holding court. Party on, Wayne. Party on. 

♍ Virgo –Blacksmiths wear aprons for a reason, and if you’ve ever had your nethers splashed with molten metal, you’d know why. Always protect the crotch is the Dr Pants’s advice for the week. Shite tons of gravity pulling us angularly twixt planetary houses torn asunder by the seemingly disparate forces of constellular Leo, the lionhearted king of all celestial food chains—and Scorpio, professed psychedellic moonshiner, resulting in a tug of war twixt fire and fire water, and the virgin Virgo new moon on the 25^th might be the land bridge that settles all disputes. Center stage, right where you like it, and oh look, somebody’s birthday times are afoot—It’s your party and cry if you want to, but only if it gets you laid. Happy birthday, rock star, the spotlight suits your pretty face.

♎ Libra –The Dr Pants has just decided, upon conferencing with a certain Libra friend, that the relationship between Libra and its iconic scales, is not quite so balanced and harmonized, consider this posit: the constellation opposite Libra in the sky is Aries—yeah, fire, unbridled enthusiasms, and racing headlong into whatever provokes them, at times admirable qualities to be sure, but consider this further posit: that Libras like being out of balance, A) because it’s fun, and B) because it gives them a reason to use their scales, which at time of purchase were not cheap btw. Well, here’s your chance: The planets are primarily pulling us twixt Leo and Scorp—basically between fire and fire water, and the virginal Virgo new moon on the 25^th might be the land bridge that settles all disputes. In order to balance, you must first unbalance.

♏ Scorpio –A goodly percentage of this week’s up and coming celestial action resides twixt planetary houses torn asunder by the seemingly disparate forces of constellular Leo, the lionhearted king of all celestial food chains—and Scorpio, professed psychedellic moonshiner, resulting in a tug of war twixt fire and fire water, and the virgin Virgo new moon on the 25^th might be the land bridge that settles all disputes. If the Dr Pants were a Scorp right now, he’d be prepped and ready for anything. The next full moon in 2 weeks is in Pisces, and it should be a doozy, full of cleansing and load dropping. For now, focus your firewater conjure something new under a new moon and help it grow.

♐ Sagittarius –You been spoiling for a fight, just for the sake of the fight, huh? Last week’s full moon whopper in Aquarius wasn’t enough for ya, huh? Well, let’s get liquored up and enter a caber tossing contest, what say ya?? Yeah, get pumped up, let’s do it—DO IT, DO IT NOW!! That said, lots of celestial pulling and prodding from planets in Leo, and at a angle that Isaac Newton described as, ‘funky town’, to the constellation Scorpio. Fret nary, for fire and fire water actually get along quite well, especially when a sweet smelling new moon in virginal Virgo on the 25^th creates a landbridge twixt lion and scorpion not seen since an ice age ago, connecting all our targets with our mind’s eye and heart’s intention. Whatever you’re planning, it’s go time. Those arrows won’t fire themselves.

♑ Capricorn -Believe it or not, your power Capricorn of the week is the inimitable Karl Rove. Congrats? And your power Scorpio for the week is Thurlow Weed—the Rove of the 1850'-60's, who also helped get people elected…cough Van Buren, cough. And here's where the Dr Pants draws a parallel that might blow off your earthly pants: Scorps and Caps are innately adept at changing their environs to suit their needs, wishes, desires, and destinies, making their environs a product of them, exercising conscious living will over this alleged substrate of so called timespace. Current gravity in our system is lots of planetary pulling towards both Scorp and Leo—fire and fire water. But an earthly new moon on the 25^th in virginal Virgo may turn out to be a land brige that saves us all. Don’t be a Weed or a Rove—learn from their follies.

Aquarius ♒ -The Dr Pants met this fellow Aquarius chick one lazy afternoon, and while we chatted signage, she told me she believed that you could emulate, think like, even become whatever sign you wanted to. For example, that day she felt like being a Scorpio—all heated up and panting with the expectation of either imminent orgy or impending bloodsport, that would probably morph into orgy after a few drinks. The Dr Pants doesn’t necessarily ascribe to such potential folly, but who else but an Aquarius would think that up, right? You’re not in a box, and there’s a friendly Virgo new moon on the 25^th. There is neither spoon nor a box. Change your sign for a tick & ditch the box.

♓ Pisces –Quickly, before the Pisces attention span requires refocus—ooh, squirrel! Quick primer skywise: new moon on the 25^th in Virgo—your sky buddy, and dirty secret holder, and in two weeks a full moon in Pisces. Each sign only gets one per year btw. It’s basically a Pisces-Virgo orgy of celestial self congratulatory fellatio. That said, the Dr Pants calls to your short attention to the lyrics to the film Running Scared with cool 80’s opening lyrics that went thusly: ‘You gotta trust your heart when nothin’s right and never let ‘em know you’re running scared inside, you can chase that dream a thousand miles, as soon as you believe it you can make it to the end of the line.’ Happy half birthday and congrats on the Pisces love fest that lasts thru Labor Day at least.

Dr Pants McTurd's

More Than True Horror-scopes

(not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Quality Futurism That Doesn’t Suck!

♈ Aries –The upcoming week full of casually waning mellow yellow moons and as of the 23^rd, a languid month long excursion into the sexually active summer seas of a Virgoian sun—Virgin sun, no that can’t be right, but it is implied—all the feelings of exploration, the ripeness of the impending harvest, peaches so perfect and juicy that you’ll need a nap right after, then raid the fridge and eat some more peaches. Shall you dare to eat a peach? Yes, have some—TS Eliot had a pitted fruit phobia that influenced much of his work—rarely are skies so refulgently full of unexpected fortune, as Leo fire becomes Virgo earth, which feeds us all. Find some trees and breathe and be happy you’re loved.  

♉ Taurus –Whatever or whoever popped into your existence, like a flatulent fairy floating your way, under last weekend’s full moon in Aquarius, has probably resulted in a sea change, but the swells are calming and the skywalking lion is almost done with the Sun, who gets to rejuvenate and repose under a sweet smelling Virgo sun starting on the 23^rd. And as a welcome precursor and omen of good times, Mercury moves into the Virgin on the 15^th. Virgin earth is wet and ripe with an impending harvest. It’s high time to eat peaches, make peace with the sea, for summer’s lease hath all too short a date. The Dr Pants’s advice is this and should be followed exactly: 1. Get some fruit, and probably some booze, 2. Shower, and 3. Have your lover or lovers feed you the fruit and booze from step 1, then 4. Steer the car towards pleasure town and settle in. Summer, easy livin’, and etc.

♊ Gemini –Sometimes, you get an Aquarius full moon under a Leo Sun, and things get weird—even for an adaptable Gemini personage such as yours, and some shite that sure looks like shit sure seems to have hit the proverbial fan, wafting poop smell thru out the living room of one’s normally mindful existence. Yet fret nary, for as of the 15^th, little fireball Mercury moves into Virgo, cools its heels, yet nearing top speed, and jazzing up your foyer for a Virgo Sun party on the 23^rd, when all will be forgiven by the Virgin—right before we harvest her goodies and eat peaches and plums til our lips are permanently stained with the orgy of calmer seas, that undertake us, and remove summer’s inherent fire in favor of lighter fare, easier moments, and heart to heart tête-à-têtes.   

♋ Cancer –After last week’s storm inducing Aquarius full moon and Leo Sun, the Dr Pants officially endorses a well earned vacation, away from the battered coast, maybe floating, enisled yet enabled to travel and to be free, awash in the calm open summer sea that seems to roll on for an infinity, maybe even three. Btw, an incoming Virgo Sun and four weeks out, a friendly Pisces full moon—quieted waters perfect for reflection under calm minds, free of tidal bulge and bilge, calm after the storm, the Crab is a butterfly afloat on a breeze that crosses waters upon waters til a land with a more serene scene can oversee our evolutionary tree. Restitch your sail, find the wind, and let’s roll, baby...

♌ Leo –Wow, you put a Leo Sun together with an Aquarius full moon, and suddenly there are parts of last weekend that seem too absurd to be true, like that one Twilight Zone with the guy who bought a paper and the coin he tossed, landed on its edge, and all day he could hear other people’s thoughts, and somehow he knew it was the coin, but when he goes back to the newstand, some other jerk tosses a coin and knocks his off its edge, and the esp—kaput, gone, doneskies like so much brownie batter, regardless of warnings against eating products containing raw egg. The Dr Pants is not saying, stop the birthday parties—hells, no! but we are slip sliding towards a Virgin Sun in about a week, so the Dr Pants is saying to leave a trail of empty booze bottles so we can find our way back to a lush and reasonable earth. Happy birthday times, you jungle king, you top shelf carnivore, you beautiful beastie. Hot damn, you’re good lookin’!

♍ Virgo –Celestial virgins, hearken! You have but one week left! Til our fiery Leo Sun leaves the leonine mine field of just desserts and slips into the moist folds of a virgin continent, untouched Virgo land, where we’ve yet to terraform, where we’ve yet to intervene globally and alter our futures unpredictably & irrevocably by burning and fracking and devouring whatever makes us go faster, increasing the differences between generations at a exponential pace, until we won’t recognize society because it just moves too darn fast for me to give a shit, and sure, maybe the Dr Pants is endorsing a thoughtful retreat into the jungles, a re-training of your wicked citified ways, out there, lost in the absolute, far away from the travails of humankind. One week til your birthday times—plan a trip to whatever you consider the perfect balance between exotic, erotic & affordable. Find your spirit animal, roam the plains, hunt for pleasure, and feel at home.

♎ Libra –The sky’s been afire and aflame betwixt a mad man aquarius full moon, opposite a let’s move it move it(!) Leo Sun, and recent fireworks suggest that we could really use a cooling off period—all of us, the Earth needs to reap the warm west winds and rest on shores safe and unpatronized by bullshite. A tectonic shift—don’t know if you noticed it, but the Dr Pants felt a celestial graviton wave that had an exact angle on Earth—just talking physics here, don’t get all pissey—and now the galaxy wants to shift its weight and gravity and spacetime from Leo, into the constellation Virgo, and before ye know it, t’will be Libra birthdays and fun, probably, and woo hoo!  It’s a smooth date shake from here on out, push your Libran scales toward inexhaustible & unrepentant first amendment rights.

♏ Scorpio –Recent hyper tidal activity, due to a full moon in Aquarius—known scofflaw and philosopher of flatulence—Scorps may have felt a little sea sick—yes, even a wanton scaly ocean beastie like yourself may have heaved your lunch overboard—the moon’s gravity btw doesn’t just affect the oceans, it actually makes the earth bulge as it goes around us—the Earth has a tidal bulge, and full moon time it works in opposition to the Sun’s gravitational effect on us, creating its own tidal bulge btw, so between Leo and Aquarius, much treasure was spilt into the wide Sargasso, the flotsam of dreams. But soon, less fire, more earth and water—the next full moon in Pisces—your irksome aquatic and constellular pal. The harvest will be sumptuous and slow, just the way you like it.  

♐ Sagittarius –The Dr Pants would really like to tell you that the next month is all sushi and sake every nite, and fishing and drinking all day long, and pleasant sea breezed naps in between. He really really would, but—wait, wait, this is just coming in now, as the Dr Pants types this… yes, okay then, over and out. Oh, sorry back to you—irony of ironies, apparently Murphy and his bullshite laws are out with the gout, so the Dr Pants is fully authorized to tell you what seemed so distant just a few sentences back—due to an impending Virgin Sun, the next month is all sushi and sake every nite, and fishing and drinking all day long, and pleasant sea breezed naps in between. Last week was rough—find your breath, find your beach, and reap the restorative west winds.

♑ Capricorn –Aquarius full moon and a Leo sun burning like a celestial cat-like conflagration, made for some wacky endings to last weekend, no? Post storm, the current skies are slowing easing themselves away from the unexpected whimsy of sporadic genius mixed with fire that’s infinitely amorous and always in the mood for something untested, untried and under utilized. Now, we’re a week away from a Virgin Sun in a fellow and gentler earth sign, even Mercury’s in Virgo as of the 15^th, so conversations big, small and erotically irreverent may transpire sans rhetoric and avec passionate empathetic orgasmic mind cuddling. For now, hold your fire, listen to some RUSH, and get your trunks out, cause damn the drought, we’re going to the water park. Slip slidin’ away…

Aquarius ♒ -Doozy of a full Aquarius moon last week, ja? The Dr Pants still can’t find his pink parachute pants. Some big metaphorical swaths of virgin forest fell to the axe, right? The scenery morphed and distilled to reveal new lands upon disbelieving eyes, like a tectonic shift under an Aquarian/Leo spell. Earth moved, landscape upheaved, under the our sagacious Aquarian gaze—4 weeks out, our next full moon miasma is in Pisces, where all should become clear, or at least more pleasant to the senses, should you decide to trip. Hint, hint: plan a trip, somewhere free of poisonous pedantry and unenlightened entanglements, clear your mind, and camp out—find calm and the future you will see. 

♓ Pisces –Shite is about to go boomskies, so pour yourself a fish sized shot of Rumplemintz and drop the party poopers off at the pool, but first a quick astronomical primer on the why, which the Dr Pants is well aware that Pisces types generally don’t give two shites about—not that you’re all end justifies the means—it’s just that as of the 15^th, behind the planet Mercury will be the constellation Virgo for like 3 weeks, as well as in just one week, the Sun will also be in Virgo, and then shortly after that, there’s a new moon in Virgo, and then bam—two weeks later, full moon in Pisces! Yeah, boom-skies. Imagine you’re running towards the longest most awesomest slippery twisty upside down water slide, that dumps you into a hawaiian alcove, where you belly up to the pool bar and have cocktails with a tortoise that reveals visions of the future, from which you can easily avail yourself—just don’t get too wasted on mai tais—don’t forget what the tortoise says—save you it can. Wheeeeeeee!

Dr Pants McTurd's

More Than True Horrorscopes

also on Tumblr 

(not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Quality Futurism That Doesn’t Suck!

♈ Aries- Fire! In a crowded theater! Just a heads up, that the sky’s is ablaze and aflame, fueled by frozen oxygen, resulting in a great space roller coaster ride to the stars, and countries as yet undiscovere’d. Quickly: directly behind the Sun is the constellation Leo—NO, don’t look at the sun, c’mon! Even quickerly: on the opposite side of Saturday’s full Moon is the constellation Aquarius, local astro nutjob and semi-professional mugwump—hey, sometimes you have to jump ship to save your dignity and your soul, regardless of what any nattering nabobs of negativism espouse or proselytize. To the quickest: the sky is currently a colorful cooperation betwixt creative fire and unpredictable air. Maybe wear your pull away stripper pants just to be safe. 

♉ Taurus – Now is the time to not go back to your old devices, destructive habits, ego over inflations, or imaginary idylls that shuttle you back to less than favorable times, when you thought you were someone else, while really you've been the same person the whole time, one soul inhabiting a body that does change with environ, but intrisinsically remains constant, like the flow of photons from the sun, everlasting and ancient. Think deep, and choose not just once, but over and over again, preferably towards justice and freedom. Be what you're like, be like yourself, and let the past pester you no further. Opt for a different, more advantageous philosophy. And then keep choosing it—what you believe to be science should always be questioned and modified towards greater truth.

♊ Gemini –This weekend is a block party fire sale for all air and fire signs, so get out your boogie pants, and do some stretches to prevent unwanted wreckage. Specifically: the Sun is racing thru the constellation Leo—yes, ROAR! And meanwhile on the opposite side of the Earth, Saturday’s full moon is in the constellation Aquarius—a dangerous combination for a double edged Geminian sword—Geminian sword, still sounds wrong, the Dr Pants’s point is, is that the current celestial climate suggests fire and zealotry fueled by air that’s regularly brilliant and often lost in his own house. Who knows where this train’s going. Maybe take a chance or three, ride some rails and walk an unknown earth.

♋ Cancer –Yes, the Dr Pants likes the metaphor of the crab and tides and renewals and all that jazz, but the Crab’s metaphor for this weekend’s full moon in Aquarius, under a Leo sun, is that of the cumulus, the stratocumuliform, and the infamous cirrus fibratus duplicatus. The Dr Pants is of course referering to, rather obliquely using three dollar words, to clouds—aka water molecules suspended in air and moved by air, ‘cross all lands and seas. You’re a shape shifter, not at the unpredictable whims of air, but morphing in tandem with ethereal tropospheric movement, heating up and cooling down with altitude and attitde—Look, there’s a horsey! And now, you’re a kitten playing a glockenspiel! What will you be next?? Get creative in the shape of something unexpected.

♌ Leo –The Dr Pants will presently get to your natal day tidings, but let’s quickly chat science and we’ll take off our pants and continue partying in just a sec: Behind the Sun right now is the constellation Leo—yes, ROAR—and on the opposite side of the Earth is Saturday’s full moon in tax evading Aquarius, god of all things improvised and the only celestial entity more unpredictable than even your sneaky leonine ass. Yes, astronomy is neat, isn’t it? What’s the Dr Pants’s point is? Not sure yet, the Dr is an Aquarius after all, your astro equal yet handsome opposite, so our point usually comes back around, right about… here: Full moon weekend inside your soulmate’s brain, so get in there, put on your party pants, consume the hell out of some red meat, don’t regret it, and then wash it down with your fav cocktail, then rinse and repeat. Happy continued birthday times, you FELINE beast, you king of all jungles. ROAR, bitches… ROAR, big time.

♍ Virgo –Posit: distractions, or what Weird Al might term first world problems, are everywhere, taking our thoughts away from questions that plague us all, like who am I, what am I doing here, or how far past the date are you willing to risk that marzipan flavored yogurt? At random unprepared times, you catch a flicker of a clue, or a notion of an idea about what it’s all about, and then—Raccoon!, peeking around the corner at you, unexpected—before dark even. Is it a signal, a sign, a transmission from Uranus that means to watch your ass because stepping in raccoon shite is afoot and imminent? Neigh, I say, I mean, nay, or more specifically, no. Big picture: behind the Sun—Leo, and behind Saturday’s full moon—Aquarius. Big distractions and fleeting yet deep soulful flickers of total comprehension of the big picture, answers to big questions—Ooh, Raccoon!

♎ Libra -Gold used to be just laying around in the streams of N. Amer—along with those lazy indolent salmon—big hunks of it, tectonically pushed up from its creation under immense pressure deep within the earth’s molten bowels, until inevitably, time and erosion had their way with the mountain and the pieces of gold started flowing downriver with the snowmelt. Precious gold, likely to start a fever, whose only cure—is more gold. Now, we have to mine thousands of tons of rock to get at what’s left—microscopic bits of gold lost among layers of other less valuable rubble. Until we create gold in a lab anyway, but anyhoo, the Dr Pants’s point is, is that this Saturday is a curvaceous refulgent full moon in troublemaker Aquarius. Gold is everywhere, it’s unbiquitous. No digging needed.

♏ Scorpio –Looking up the skirt of the ol’ evolutionary tree, Wo/Mankind has been hunting prey for eons, usually big meaty protein sacks like mastadons and bison, and usually under the times of a full moon—more light at night = more killing ability and heart chomping adrenaline filled blood orgies and sacrifice, right? Well, turns out, this Sat is yet another fabulous time to hunt, and since mastadon meat is super gamey, maybe shift your sanguinary desires towards questions regarding the ethereal, the spiritual, or maybe where the hell did I put the remote for the umpteenth time?? The Sun is in Leo, and on the opposite side of the Earth the moon is in Mother of Invention Aquarius, the sky is afire, afoot and ablaze with bloodlust for philsophical thought experiments. Go nuts, and bring us back something nice—but not too pricey—more kitschy.

♐ Sagittarius –Were the Dr Pants a generator of crude metaphors, he might suggest that the current astro climate for Sag’s, looks like a trip to boner town riding in a stretch limo with a hot tub in it. Quickly: if you look at the Sun—which you shouldn’t, but rather in theory, behind it, is the constellation Leo—yes, ROAR, fellow fire sign, etc—and on the opposite side of the Earth is Saturday’s full moon in Mad Hatter Aquarius, who for some reason refuses to wear pants for what he claims are ‘religious’ reasons, and to top it off even fat ass Jupiter, gas bag and wannabe sun in his own right, recently slipped into Leo spacetime. The skies are a wild Trevi fountain of cooperation betwixt unpredictable air and creative fire. Hold your breath, make a soulful wish… count to three.

♑ Capricorn –Not to alarm anyone, but Uranus is on fire. And while dunking your arse in water is a viable soultion, the Dr Pants is referring to the planet Uranus—major god btw, if you were greek, right, and incidentally the only planet named for a greek and not a roman, just fyi. Currently right behind your anus—wait, no that’s wrong—Uranus, right behind Uranus is the constellation Aries—fire, right, so the Dr Pants is merely pointing out that Uranus is on fire. Oh, and so is Jupiter and the Sun—in Leo btw—yes, ROAR—and Saturday’s full moon is in Aquarius, self admitted loafer, genius and ineffective pirate. Wtfudge is right, brougham. If you earth types get caught up in these skyward shennanigans, don’t forget to come down and maybe dunk your arse in water and cool your jets—check before you wet yourself.

Aquarius ♒ -Congratualtions to us, or rather we, the royal WE, we of Aquarian blood and spirit, this is OUR time—every sign gets one full moon per calendar year, and Sat brings a summer Sun blazing thru the constellation Leo, and the Moon, on the opposite side of our Earth sails unfettered thru the constellation Aquarius, so when you look up and see her tumescent voluptuousness, behind her is our namesake star group. Btw, going back to Babylonian times—yes, well before VHS players—Aquarius was associated with a god, considered to be the shaper of the world, the god of magic and wisdom. We’re known as the water bearer, but Aquarian agua is a metaphor for knowledge, which we drop like Galileo dropped the orange. This whole week is OUR time. Put on your spandex and use your secret super hero power in any way you see fit. And happy half birthday, good lookin.

♓ Pisces –This week, due to Saturday’s full moon in Aquarius opposite a Leo summer sun, a joke from ages ago that you didn’t get at the time, due to level of intoxication or distraction, will suddenly reappear and meaning will dawn on your brain like a conflagration of understanding and certitude, and you will be reborn—not in some flatulent religious context, but in a take off your pants and do the freedom dance context—yes, we all know you have a freedom dance, not a surprise to anyone who hangs out with your ilk. That which has been plaguing your subconscious ever since you heard that random beaver joke from a 1970’s movie and you were too young to get it, or maybe that time when your weird Uncle Stan made a ribald remark about Aunt Edna’s cankles that made cousin Larry laugh milk out his nose and left cousin Eddie’s girlfriend Rowena silently clucking her offended sensibilities. Your mind will be blown clean and clear. Get the joke and dump your load.