Dr. Pants McTurd's

                 MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                    pantsmcturd.blogspot.com

                 (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)                                                                                 

Aries- A beaver named Spiritual Crunch is your power animal of the week. He prefers to be called Crunchy, fyi. Beavers, btw are the second largest rodent; a perfect example of wanting one’s own environment to be a product of the implied me, the editorial--the royal WE—rather than ‘me’ being a product of my environment. Whatever river you’re on, it’s time to tie up your canoe and enjoy the spring thaw by building a fortress of solitude and wood that will allow you and Crunchy to rejuvenate, revive and return to a simpler, more id based economy. Think BIG.

Taurus- Jump the shark, it’s time. Fonzie did it, while wearing a leather jacket and jeans, which seems constricting and not very safe; but I guess the cool factor kinda outweighs the physics and the logic of not waterskiing over a shark in the wrong clothes. I assume naked waterskiing is also frowned upon from a safety perspective. Anyhoo, you’ve been avoiding the shark for awhile, hoping to keep the same continuum going, because change is scary and should be thought out far in advance. But now, NOW is the time for logical change and movement and rock climbing and adventure seeking and mating, both physically and spiritually. Pamplona, 1961, man.

Gemini- You are the perfect size to be a professional jumping rabbit. Man, I can’t make this stuff up. Throughout northern europe and uk, rabbit jumping competitions are damn near rampant. It looks like a cross between the American Kennel Club and an olympic equestrian event. Most of the rabbits I’ve met seem to do little else besides eat and poop and sleep and look cute. But these suckers jump! The record being some 39 inches---three feet, man—wow, neat! I sense the eating pooping rabbit inside of you is awakening from a long slumber after a nice salad. But it’s time to jump. It’s time to touch the sky. Stretch your bunny legs and prepare for springing into action and adventure. Sproing!®.

Cancer- In grammar, contractions are indicative of the past intruding on present time, but with a purpose: slowing the speed of the evolution of society, because it sure as heckfire seems like from where we're standing, time is freaking flying like the Wright Brothers. Language seems to be accelerating exponentially, spread by the web and human curiosity and a love of the english language; which developed out of centuries of law and organization and brute force, meant to curb the will of man, to cull and cow tow to the authority of the stronger. Query: what will happen when society outsmarts the bully, the physically stronger with masterful Ender Wiggins-like intelligence. Once we suppress the samurai class, how will they make a living? How will they survive? This week, don't sublimate; actuate and engender. Save you it will.

Leo- You are the 21rst century version of an orienteer. Wtf is that, you say? Whoa-- calmate, muchacho. An orienteer is someone who can manage the crossing of an unknown land with the aid of a map and a compass. What brings you to your future however, is something far more plump and devious. You’ve been given no map, and your true north has appeared to be truly lost amongst magma displacements and pole reversals, maybe even verboten, all full of schadenfreude and so forth and on…You are not alone, however. Your power animal will guide protect you. Now don’t freak out, but your power animal is a capybara—the world’s largest rodent. His name is unpronounceable in English. Trust him with your life. A destiny awaits.

Virgo- I repeat: I can’t make this shit up: my Irish ancestors are strange and island oriented and hella weird; posit: Irish Road Bowling; no--fer reals: basically, a bunch of (usually) Irish guys “bowl” a metal ball down a road—say for about a mile or so, until one of the guys gets to the designated location first, wherever the marker may lie; probably reflective of the idea that Clyde bets that he can out “bowl” James Patrick all the way to the Callahan’s farm, (my ancestors btw); and that by Joyce--or by Jove, or by Jupiter, or by Jesus—Irish Road Bowling is directly related to golf---which leads me to my Scottish ancestors…wait, wait—the ball’s off the road here; point is: life is a game AND a journey…? Mayhap? Prithee? You shall sample...my….blade…?

Libra- Preceding caveat: this ‘scope is not about Richard Gere. That said, the gerbil, also known as the sand rat—has a fascinating history. First weird fact: A group of forty gerbils were brought over for science folk to probe and figure out back in 1954, and almost all commercially sold gerbils—for pets mind you…not a Lemmiwink adventure up the alimentary canal, all gerbils for sale in the US are descended from these 40 gerbils. Secondly, they’re cute and they build nests and burrow. Thirdly, they’re illegal in California. Apparently decimating crops is a “concern” to some farmers. Whatev. My point? Root out your inner gerbil. He must be free.

Scorpio- Madcap: to be recklessly wild, reckless, impulsive and/or rash; daredevil, harum-scarum, possibly even hot headed lunacy, driven mad by powers out of our control. We are reeds swaying with the current. In times of deluge, the reed must hold on for dear life, and perhaps invent a plant based religion, in order to evolve to the next---wait, wait…listen—do you smell something? Something maybe half baked? Possibly scatter- and/or hare- brained? Oh, sorry that’s me. Point is, your cap that makes you mad has a perfect fit; don’t even consider taking it off. Passion should remain unfenced and unmolested by either government or villany.

Sagittarius- Sagittarius is intelligent fire, the oldest of the fire signs, centered at a crucial turning point in the year--the solstice. And we must transition into that from the teenaged water sign of Scorpio. Marvelous, for those who love drama and fire and ice. Scorp doesn't evolve into the elevated water of Pisces for three more months. And surely, I could be seeing patterns in a chaotic soup that lacks cohesive meaning, but posit anyway: since we created astrology, as a most ancient skyclad love affair, aka old school digital entertainment-- the balance point from your sign to the next--that axis is hella vital and cool, and angled around 23 degrees...there be fissionable material in the generators next to which you were born. Light the sky.

Capricorn- Your power animal for the week is the capybara—alos known as the world’s largest rodent—way to evolve, South America! Your continent is truly wondrous and strange. Google this thing—it’s freaky cool. You will exist, as the capybara does, in an easy going collective, where hierarchy is determined by playing and jostling and well intentioned frivolity. And then we’ll all eat some grass together and play rodentian board games. You particular capybara is named Onok-chi!, which means Pensive One Who Chews Like Cow. Your crown weighs heavy, but your pack animal exterior is more than ready for the burden. You are a giant rodent. Right on!

Aquarius- I have no idea why Little Bunny Foo Foo was being such a dick to those stupid field mice. Yes, on one level, the story seems to be about bullying. If you recall, the good fairy came down and warned him, gave him three chances to NOT bop field mice on the head, and then she turned him into a goon. Yeah, a goon. I don’t know what a goon is either-- very confusing. Point is, maybe Bunny Foo Foo was trying to redress past wrongs. Maybe it was a rabbit form of social protest. Maybe the field mice were dicks. I don’t know. Maybe we only know a fraction about this reality, and everything else is still conjecture. Keep up the sleuthing and delving. Treasure is nigh, and shockingly at hand and well worth all the vexation and hassle and troubles.

Pisces- The bulls are running loose. You are Pamplona in early July. Before we get too deep tho—since 1910, only 15 people have been killed in the running of tauric passions and fire and summer heat. Granted, 2-3 hundred are injured every year, usually in some form of goring, which is highly unpleasant, especially in the buttock area. Now…on to deep shite. Happy birthday. AND, my sloppy obvious metaphor for you is this: your inner bulls are set to be unleashed. It’s the time of the season for you. Take precautions, but prepare for a hell of a ride. These bulls do hunt.

                         Dr. Pants McTurd's

                MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                                          

   (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                                                                 

Aries-  A spud gun and pumpkin chucking are inseparable from America; and since another Civil War seems unlikely, barring a zombie apocalypse or a mucho gigante meteor strike outta nowhere, these institutions are integral to our identity. FYI, spud guns are exactly what you’re picturing, and pumpkin chucking is a catapulting pumpkins trebuchet style, preferably into enemy camp. People spend time on this crap. And by crap, I mean frivolity, first world problem kinda crap. However, posit this crap: figuring out different ways to projectile stuff—is unavoidable human behavior. It means we’re thinking of new ways to do stuff, possibly necessary for survival. This message is not pro NRA, but rather pro freedom to think for your self, and decide what is right and what is just. And which is an illusion. And which is just orange squash.

Taurus- I have a dream. It’s a weird dream, but it still counts. I want to invent an avocado liqueur®. Sure, lots of people tell me to move on, or try a different idea, sometimes even, will you shut up about the avocados already and stop making so much guacamole, I just can’t eat any more! Thankfully though, my dream is deaf to such logical cries that are green with envy of my perfect dream. In the future we’ll all be drinking green shots of avo & whiskey, avo & cantaloupe®, and avo & fish meat; and of course…getting greenly wasted in the process. What’s your weird dream? Don’t give up, go for the green!

Gemini- Relax…and have a death in the afternoon. Not the novel, but rather the cocktail invented by the book’s author. Of which he said, “"Pour one jigger absinthe into a Champagne glass. Add iced Champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness. Drink three to five of these slowly.” He’s right. A little death in the afternoon takes you away to Pleasure Island, where there’s no more war, no more atrocities—just boobies and happy endings and six toed cats. I’m not endorsing five of them—you’re no Dr. Pants to be sure…but this week, feel free to indulge—wisely that is, in a forbidden fruit, a taboo, a sexy sin, or a moral imperative. I’ll meet you at Hemingway’s place for happy hour, and you can tell me all about what may have been hallucinatory but seemed so real. 

Cancer- It may be irony that Video Killed The Radio Star was the first music video aired on MTV. It may also be a bloodthirsty threat to the powers that were about an upcoming technological attack---from the future! Point is, images speak louder (sometimes) than words. And somewhere the royal WE became enamored and obsessed with a firmly based visual explanation of events and people and existence. Visual art of the past required much more selective viewing, available only to the rich, thus ensuring that the majority of humans would see the world as art—as fantasy and imagination; because that’s all we have—our wits, and our senses. Life is simple and obvious, so stop obfuscating and mountain molehill building. Ease up, tune in, and pop by.

Leo- The big day is coming soon…National Pig Day is next Friday! And I’m sure you’ve already booked your flight for The Blue Ribbon Bacon Festival in Des Moines, but let’s talk turkey about this allegedly intelligent garbage eating animal that lives in filth. Bacon has six different umami flavor explosions—six! They flavor vodka with it, and I’m sure there’s bacon gum out there somewhere, and probably bacon wine. Your own personal bacon mania—a real thing btw, at least to some pig obsessed weirdos; is righteous and well intentioned. Your pigs are in full flight. Prepare for savory salty awesomeness. Got bacon?

Virgo- John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich may have invented the sandwich because he was addicted to gambling and would eat meat between bread while at long stints losing money that he inherited—didn’t earn, inherited. Or he liked eating meat between bread while at his desk where allegedly he worked super hard running various important upper crustery falderal and hoobsnobbery®. Whichever is true, who doesn’t like a sandwich? The same guy also had some islands named after him. Anyhoo, I like sandwiches with bacon. Point is, at some point this week, create the perfect sandwich. Get the bread at the right store. Find the perfect meat, cheese, veggies, or whatever in your mind makes the ideal meat between bread. Then, eat it. Enlightenment should come about two hours later.

Libra- Ants live on every continent except for Antarctica. Humans kick their collective asses with our collective asses. Bees too. Honey? Science will learn to make it somehow, probably involving questionable ethics and fiduciary motivations. And no, this is not me mocking capitalism for its innate flaws; iniquities exist in every system. And here’s sort of a point, iniquities involve a value system, not to mention an emotional response, and possibly a moral imperative for a call to arms—of which, the deadliness of such weaponry is actually what’s at issue here, Dude. How you battle the dragon—or the ants—is a matter of choice. I suggest you try non-imperialistic solutions; rather more equally opportunistic attempts to quench your thirsty fever for whatever beast you crave succor from. Feel deeply, as well as opportunistically. 

Scorpio- Graspus graspus, also known as Sally Lightfoot is difficult to catch because they move as the hunter moves, as if they’re reading the hunter’s mind. The Sally’s are also mucho delicioso with green salsa and a Pacifico. Sally is a crab, btw, found along the coastlines from Mexico to South America. They come in really cool colors too. And prehistorically speaking, they are also super old. Crabs have been around the block a few billion times. They live at the transition between sand and sea, surviving on and in both. They’re clever and fast and can survive incessant wave action; in fact they thrive on it—all that glorious oxygenation of air and water. This is your power animal. Walk sideways and carry some crab jerky to share with everyone you love.

Sagittarius- An earworm is the term for when you get a song, or part of a song in your head that repeats until it’s done with you. Today you are going to deal with three separate earworms, starting with Last Dance With Mary Jane, which last around forty minutes. Around lunch you will suffer from repeated Hello by Lionel Ritchie. This will last till dinner. After dinner you will have a brief musicless respite till around 730, at which time you catch part of Armageddon on cable and you’ll have to deal with Aerosmith’s I Don’t Want To Miss a Thing. This will go on until a repeat of Seinfeld will come on and everything will coalesce and effervesce into dreamy dreamy sleep time. And tomorrow, you will wake up, sans songs, and with the clear eyes of clarity and wisdom. Cha-ching.

Capricorn- A poi dog is not a wiener made of poi. Eww. It’s an extinct breed of dog native to Hawaii—and super cute, but also feral. Anyhoo, other dog breeds brought by non-natives bred with the poi dogs and today the actual breed is gone. However…the genes live on. Who knows? Perhaps your dog contains some poi dog genes that migrated over time. They were strong willed and not easily commanded. Luckily they did make good friends and equals. This is your power animal for the week. Make many new friends and your troubles are over, Dude; and maintain your independence.

Aquarius- A B&B is cognac and bénédictine, while a godfather is amaretto and scotch. Interesting…Ahh, but a French connection is amaretto and cognac. And a rusty nail may end you up in the cell of a scottish jail, due to its scotch and drambuie. Mixology-- weird, right? And it’s also a clue to our ancient history. As a species, we’ve been fermenting stuff since way before they invented bathtubs--which is how I make my booze. However you make your booze, I urge you to try something wacky. Create a new flavor explosion. Invent the next umami big bang. Go nuts. Maybe even nut flavored liqueur---sunflower seeds distilled! The time is ripe for inebriated s-explorations of your inventive mind.

Pisces- Jeanne Calment is the world’s oldest person—documented of course; at 122 years of youth. RIP, 1875-1997. And today is her birthday. Cripes, imagine: at the turn of the 20^th century she was already 25. She survived two wars in her own country of France. She survived disco. Nixon and Viet Nam and swing music, and roaring 20’s, and hoola hoops, planes and cars and atom bombs! JFK, MLK, Tiny Tim, Teddy Roosevelt, the Panic of 1893, which had to do with railroads and gold and greed--she survived more time in one shot, one continuum than anybody else (that we know of, possibly excepting Moses and Mel Brooks) in the history of histories of all human history. Happy birthday.

                                          DR. PANTS MCTURD'S

                          MORE THAN TRUE HORRORSCOPES

                     (Not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Aries-- Probosticate™ is a word I just made up that means to predict the future with your nose. And right now, the future smells like oncoming funky. In your future, I'm getting a whiff of butterscotch and salmon. Maybe asbestos and roofing tar. The point is that right around your next corner is some truly weird shit. I can smell it. Yet be not afeared of the impending shit. The nature of this shit is more like ice cream. And not shit flavored ice cream, but like chocolate chip salmon, or armpit broccoli. Your future is a weird miasma of Mmmm...interesting. Eat it and smile. 

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. 

                                         DR. PANTS MCTURD'S

                          MORE THAN TRUE HORRORSCOPES

                     (Not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Aries--Le Jongleur de Notre Dame is story from 1892 about a juggler turned monk, who had no gift for the statue of the virgin mary, so he juggled for her. The other monks were jerks and accused the juggler of blasphemy. But then, the statue came to life and blessed the monks, leaving all the other monks with holy ova all over their faces. Here's your to-do list: get some balls and learn to juggle; then find someone you want to impress, and then blow their doors off. You are the jongleur de los angeles and you will be rewarded for your truth.

Taurus--One day the island of Loihi will rise above the sea. The newest Hawaiian island is still 10,000 years away, but I bet it will be really neat. How often do you get to see an island being born? I mean, I've only seen two, and one of those was probably closer to an isthmus. And then maybe another 100,000 years, and we'll be able to invade it and capture its soul and use it as a landfill. Point is, your underwater island will not take nearly as long. Magma trickles out of the subconscious into new islands all the time. Think of a good name, and build a house there, and start a community garden. The new jungle is yours.

Gemini--Check this shite: YOU are my power animal. I was going to use the tube lipped nectar bat, whose tongue is 150% the size of its own body length. I also considered the bonobo because of their high sexual drives and because they invented french kissing. I also considered the kumquat--for personal reasons. And then I realized that you have more power than any animal on earth. It's in your mind and heart and bones and chakras. You are buzzing with light and gravitons and Bose-Einstein condensates. You scintillate my nads. Wield your power wisely, you crazed sexual beast.

Cancer--The ground you sometimes stand on has been underground, subducted, covered by water, and moved tectonically around and around the earth age after age until the mind numbing spin of the globe brings us to the next glass of bourbon and slice of cosmic cake. And as long as you avoid fault lines and creepy sinky sand, this land is permanent from the point of view of your feet. Things are changing subtly and from behind your eyes. Fear no thing.

Leo--Trial AND error. Tricks OR treats. Nature VS nurture. They all go together like an open faced peanut butter sandwich that hits the kitchen floor. One is never without the other. No cracker without jack, no capitalism with cheap slave-ish labor, no  law without enforcement, no love without sacrifice...And yet there's buttloads of questions without answer---or at least ones I'd be willing to accept. The iniquities of life are a real pain in the duodenum. I say, have a steak and some ice cream, and recharge.

Virgo--You are currently over flowing with zugzwang, which means a compulsion to move. Stagnation has seemed insurmountable and your options have appeared limited to either the unworthy, or relegated to victories merely pyrrhic in nature. Your psyche is about to get a lesson in mixology and chaos theory. But don't sweat the glockenspiel that's about to go off inside you. Action, movement, change amidst the natural course of events are about to converge with your anima. On your marks...

Libra--There are four types of Zud--black, white, cold and iron. I don't know which one you've been experiencing, but one should keep in mind when making future calculations that whatever zud you've been mired in, will change; as well as the unchangeable changiness is inevitable and ever swaying between poles of different orbits and tidal forces that follow patterns of cosmic time scales. A zud, btw is a way to describe winter in Mongolia. Your Mongolian winter is about to thaw into a Mediterranean spring. No more zud. 

Scorpio--One day when we reach the surface of an alien planet, I know exactly why you'll be desperately needed. You are intimate with landscapes, and able to find desirable perches amongst rocky crags, herbs that heal the mind as opposed to berries that cramp the bowels. I can think of nothing more interesting for you than to explore a wild that has yet to be seen by human eyes--shaman or otherwise. To be the first seer in space. On the frontier so you can assess and make friends with all you find. Your first love is what's around you. Spread your winged mind expansively.

Capricorn--You will never see the seiche coming. Unless you're in space and have a really expensive camera. A seiche is a wave, but it's a wave that never breaks the surface of the water. Everything is always moving is my point. Even earth signs; which may be a misnomer. You're a goat, built for life at high altitudes and rocky perches. But there are waves of energy of different ilks moving in and around and through us---like the tide---influenced by motion of something perhaps light years away. You are not the goat, but a butterfly making for a future stormy time in far way lands. 

Aquarius--Recently a friend coined a phrase that describes the Aquarian mind perfectly. We are sexual intellectuals. We are highly charged and sensitive beasts of the southern wild; attuned to our environs like antennas of the future, not made of metal, but of light and directionally attuned intention. Our feet aren't even on the path, but rather we are skyclad, our feet walking 'mongst clouds, creating new neuronal connections out of thin timespace. We are beasts in the bed and in the boudoir of our minds. Look the fuck out, and happy birthday, you sexy brainiac.

Pisces--There are four types of Zud--black, white, cold and iron. I don't know which one you've been experiencing, but one should keep in mind when making future calculations that whatever zud you've been mired in, will change; as well as the unchangeable changiness is inevitable and ever swaying between poles of different orbits and tidal forces that follow patterns of cosmic time scales. A zud, btw is a way to describe winter in Mongolia. Your Mongolian winter is about to thaw into a Mediterranean spring. No more zud. 

                                        DR. PANTS MCTURD'S

                          MORE THAN TRUE HORRORSCOPES

                      (Not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

Aries-Let's talk Rip Tide. These Bo and Luke doppelgängers ran a detective agency from their boat, with the help of a social misfit computer nerd and an orange robot, who unlike Twiggy didn't speak and most delivered cocktails after a long day of detecting and being awesome. And they had a helicopter and a speedboat and a hot red Corvette. I wanted to hang out with those guys so bad! This week, I predict that your life will unfold into a burrito of coolness just like Rip Tide. Solving mysteries and looking foxy. That is your immediate future. Helicopters and speedboats. You are the trio with four fists. Fuck and yeah. To honor your action hero status, please give generously: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/lashield/la-shield-lost-vegas

Taurus-This week your life will resemble the 80's tv show Moonlighting. Your theme song will be sung by Al Jarreau, and it will be sexy. You will be known amongst your friends as the first successful dramedy, and you will break the fourth wall, and possibly engender a fifth one. Your lover will be feisty and incorrigible and irresistible and hard to pin down. Your love scenes will be done standing up to avoid injury and pregnancy. You will spontaneously spawn limbo contests while at work. And you will solve crimes. This is your Blue Moon...

To honor your action hero status, please give generously: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/lashield/la-shield-lost-vegas

Gemini-Loose Cannons is not a good film. But I love the concept. Gene Hackman-a 'hard nosed' cop teams up with a multiple personality disordered Dan Ackroyd to solve a major crime involving a secret Hitler sex tape. It was the 80's--Hitler was still relevant. Not that he isn't now, I'm just saying--solid mediocre movie and probably dated, but still awesome. This week, you will experience this movie in your day to day life. Dom DeLouise may even show up. However, unlike the film which did a big poo poo at the box office, your tale of mismatched cop buddy weirdness will be riotously received and richly rewarded. Strap in and don't fear the straight jacket. 

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Cancer-Lethal Weapon--best Xmas movie ever--is your theme movie for the week. Gary Busey may show up, so be prepared. But don't fret, Clapton will be writing your theme music. You will also have alternate beginnings and endings that only you will get to see. You are not too old for this shit, and don't even think about retiring because this week, you will overcome past tragedy and find a family you can stand to hang out with. You will also find a perfect stretch of beach for your trailer of solitude. Get ready for your new partner in justice.

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Leo-This week your life will be like John McClane's in Die Hard---one of the best Xmas movies ever made...It might not be Nakatomi Plaza, but it will be full of derring do and barefoot machine gunning and bearer bond stealing. You will succeed brilliantly because of your never say die spirit. You will befuddle and confuse all your enemies with your fast thinking and Beethoven based soundtrack. You'll save the one you love, and make friends with an overweight cop and thwart the ever dickish William Atherton. Yipee ki-yay, mother russia.

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Virgo-Miami Vice. Not the bullshit movie with big dicked Ferrel, but rather the 80's awesomeness of the Crockett and the Tubbs. And this week I predict you will be solving crimes, driving speedboats named after strange diseases, wearing awesome pastel clothes, and having emotional shootouts that will make you the hero with a cool tan. You will not be able to get Glen Frey and Phil Collins songs out of your head. Cuban food and drug deals. Fast cars and hot babes. Justice and a slew of guest stars, that will include Sheena Easton and Bruce Willis. Drive fast, for the bad guys have speedboats too. 

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Libra-Running Scared---not the bs name stealer from 2006, but rather the awesome buddy cop movie from 1986, starring Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines---is your theme movie of the week. There will be humor and drama and Joey Pants all over the place. Jimmy Smits will also stop by. By the end of next week, you will regain a lost love, ride a motorcycle on the railroad tracks, catch the bad guys, and buy a bar in Key West. You will also discover the healing power of sunsets and Michael McDonald. 

To honor your action hero status, please give generously: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/lashield/la-shield-lost-vegas

Scorpio-Remington Steele is your theme show for the week. A shady past that included underworld crime and Irish boxing will collide with hot and smart Stephanie Zimbalist as well as the likes of Doris Roberts. You are the person of mystery in everyones' lives this week, and you look great in a suit, and if you play your cards right you'll actually get to play James Bond, regardless of NBC and Timothy Dalton. You'll be clever, witty, urbane and dashing. You knowledge of film noir will astound even Ebert. Try this for a deep dark secret...To honor your action hero status, please give generously: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/lashield/la-shield-lost-vegas

Sagittarius-This week, your life will resemble an episode of the A-Team. You will embody BA Baracas, Face, the Colonel and Murdock all rolled up into a burrito of on the run deliciousness. Bad guys will pay, those taken advantage of will see recompense, and you will be driving a really cool van. And you will elude, frustrate and piss off anyone who wrongly convicted you in the past. There will also be many needless explosions. Be ready to be a hero. Your plan is about to come together.

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Capricorn-This week your life will resemble Lethal Weapon 2. Your past suicidal tendencies will be reversed and you will find a family that you can hang with. You will also save Danny Glover from a toilet bomb. And those racist South Africans will lose all their ill gotten cash, and get their diplomatic immunities revoked. Best of all you will not be fucked at the drive thru. I do not recommend you try to pop your shoulder or any other body parts out of sockets, but you will pull an amazing escape from an impossible situation. You are not too old for this shit. 

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Aquarius-Point Break has so much to offer. It's also the thematic film for you for the up coming week. The FBI will pay you to learn how to surf. Gary Busey will take you to the best meatball sandwich place in LA. You may aggravate an old knee injury from your past athletic days, and you will find something you didn't think was possible-Buddhistic enlightenment in the pursuit of sport and justice. Be ready to jump out of a plane for love. The net will appear in the form of the late great Swayze. Bell's Beach is straight ahead. Surf's up. You are an FBI agent!! Whoa...

To honor your action hero status, please give generously: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/lashield/la-shield-lost-vegas

Pisces-You are Magnum. Thomas Magnum. Of the Hawaiian Magnums. You've been thru hell, and made a life for yourself; which involves a friend with a helicopter, a buddy named Rick who owns a night club, and a rich benefactor who is probably masquerading as someone much more powerful, even though he has a twin brother with a Texas accent who likes rodeo. You will be driving a Ferrari, so pull from your closet your best Hawaiian shirt and Detroit Tigers baseball hat. And best of all, Orson Welles will be the voice of god/Robin Masters to coagulate your awesomeness. The power of the mucho macho 'stache is yours to wield. 

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                                        DR. PANTS MCTURD'S

                       MORE THAN TRUE HORRORSCOPES

              (Not associated with actual horror or scopes of any ilk)

Aries--- There are some that call me ...Tim. And Tim will employ every shady waylaying motive to thwart and stymie your cosmic progress. I'm going to poop on your evolution as a soul, or whatever pile of spiritual crapulence you believe yourself to effervesce and-----Not. I have no power over the  likes of you and your sexual beastliness. Fuck my alter ego Tim, and drive headlong into what will ironically be your glorious future, amidst the inevitable bullshit blockades that invariably pop up amidst the lives of mice and monkeys. Drive wild, drive free and kick everyone's ass who would seek to block your path. Rambo style.

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.

                         Dr. Pants McTurd's

           MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                    

            (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                 

this week: I found my Pants!

Doc P’s Word of the Week: BALLYHOO. PSST, BUDDY…OVER HERE!

Aries- The real Batman’s name is John. John Batman. He helped found Australia, aka the backward southern hemispherial ex-con brits. I kid the Aussies, cause they’re all the way down there and under, but seriously, what a great model for anti-recidivism and societal rehabilitation. Most of those emu humpers are pretty nice, and their treatment of and treaties with indigenous peoples might be the kindest on the planet, for what that’s worth. But wait—John Batman. Like the northern Batman, John was a mixed bag. He killed some aborigines, saved some, adopted one even, killed some bad guys and outlaws; but his best idea was what he wanted to name Melbourne-—Batmania. How much better would our world be if there was a city named Batmania? I say lots better. Try renaming stuff---it’ll change your relationship to the object.

Taurus- We may be connected—you and I…possibly spread eagled against the sky, like an impatient etherized upon a fable-…and yet it’s far more complicated than we could imagine: Love?--Ha!--what a biological and mathematically rendered piece of work. We shall be and/or what we think we desire to be, regardless! Ha yet again! To believe that there’s some cosmic relativity---a moment of balance and unity, where we come together as separate pieces of the same puzzle...Ha! I say, x3!, We have yet to intimately blather. Spreading one’s fractures and fortunes face to face, preferably while lying together showered and naked, til the required trust phase is allowed for, and we grok each other’s macguffin---that’s where love may possibly lyeth! Not here amidst coffee grounds and broken parleys across mountains of non conductive copper. Make and get a room, will ya already? 

Gemini- Translate this, and then stick it in your pipe and smoke it: there’s no way for you to be more beautiful. There! I said it. The world desires you, as it does peace, and fewer Justin Biebers and weather related fatalities; not to mention fewer deaths related to guns usually of innocents, the blood of lambs. Your mental health is of the utmost importance here: Maintain an even keel, despite your turbulent and reasonable emotions. You are the only air sign that sits astride the fence between emotion and logic—one who is comfortable in more than one world at once. And you wear it like a crown forged of bravery, fortitude, cunningness and guile, and full tilt metaphorical balls to the proverbial wall. So you have that going, which is nice. 

Cancer- As our current universe expanded from a somehow measurable bang, as yet evolved energy cooled and coalesced into simple ideas like hydrogen and helium becoming nuclear fire and plasma and vortexes and multiverses, mirroring itself infinitely, creating new timespace in the blink of an eye. Matter evolves condensing out of furnaces of immense heat, taking billions of years to find ourselves in the now on a slowly cooling planet made from lightning hot star stuff. And from the perspective of the ‘creator’, billions of years are like a new york minute, a heartbeat, or as the Bhuddists say one inspirational breath of god. Cool your jets, jumpy jill. You got time.

Leo- Roar. Lions roar. Grrrr. But…I’m on to you—ROOOAAR right back at ya. Point is, that while your aquarian perfect soul mate may never to be realized due to a mutual fear of true cosmic intimacy, rather than mere pheromone related incidents on a drunken nights in old london town, when you hooked up and regretted just as quickly. Wait, it’s been five seconds, you better give a good ROAR or a nice purrrrrrr, so the voices from another room don’t forget there’s a dangerous beautiful, almost top of the food chain sexy beast in here who’s gonna be needing some ripe flesh and probably pronto. Your fur lined ego wants to be stroked. Aquarians do that with their minds, and their mates should be so vibrationally attuned; so maybe we are perfect soul mates only in spirit, as friends and twins. My brains, your brawn—we are unstoppable. Come, Lion…there be gazelles to harass.

Virgo- Like in any chaotic system, entropy changes tempo over time and society appears to grow more organized. But are we moving toward a kind of homogenized chaos? Just looking at the numbers, the human species is about to get very diverse, what with random mutation popping off whenever it feels like it. But the how of our daily lives has lots in common—food, medicine, transportation, education, employment, and they’re are evolving globally at varying speeds, but towards very similar models. Keep vigilant of your place in space—it’s moving. Your atoms seem to coalescing rapidly. Unwrinkle and unbunch your panties though because the upcoming you is super cool. And taller!

Libra- You are made of the stuff of Robert Burns. Yeah, yeah..little bit of the ol’ Auld Lang Syne, a little smack of some for a’ that and a’ that and y’adda y’adda y’adda. And Meredith-your secret name…Welsh and Scottish, all haggis and baskersvillian, racing ‘round Wrath on bones made of basil and blood, and scintillating and rapidly deteriorating portraits of our self worth and refusal to obey the lack of inhibitions that our soul demands—the greyest of dorians. Fudge, shit, terror, tits and acceptance…of something—a larger reality—where a hidden pool of secret knowledge juice, thought to be extinct and out of fashion, exists that wants to be our Calgon, and take us away like a sailboat, course plotted for somewhere warm and fruity drink worthy. Happy New Year.

Scorpio- You are a perfect hybrid of the chalky buttercup and the buttercup lucine; grasping onto rocks and crevices, direly surviving against the sea—which is your nature: to be one with the sea…sodium and water and ratios aligning perfectly, so that we never notice the barriers betwixt and between us; skin melding and molding and justifying and condensing into one being, made of two and twixt and twain--strangled amidst unassuming strangers who befuddle and misdirect us—or who seem and are presented as reasonable suitors; but in the final analysis end game realization technique, verified by science minded celts,… are merely adequate. You want mystical? You want grokking and rocking and scottish jewish hindu pagan freedom? Pretty sure you’re already there, but keep on digging. The earth is warm.

Sagittarius- You are Bartholomew Bundy, The Bully Butcher of Bourbon Street®, ready to punch through that fake wall that’s been separating you from your adventurous future. Once you break through the wall, it may be dark, so bring a torch, and maybe some trail mix and water; I don’t know how long you’ll be in there. Maybe just an apple and some beef jerky—anyway, point is—start the journey now while you have the muscle. I’m not trying to scare ya, for all I know there’s butterflies and shamrock shakes in there, just be prepared. Also, bring your trusty ax and your big blue ox. And maybe a couple chairs, some throw pillows, maybe even a bean bag chair—spruce up the joint while you’re in there. Start an illegal guinea pig breeding farm in there—whatever, go nuts. Get your ax.

Capricorn- A quasi war is just that: half assed, ill planned, brutal and most likely disastrous. Quasi, my ass; kill or be killed, right? Eye for an eye—tit for a tat, and a turd for Tartuffe—right? The universe can’t be black and white. I like to think of it as layers of orange upon green, and when inevitably mixed, generating a slurry of weird uncomfortable brown, murky and mucky, primordial and oozy, like from whence we crawled. And as you walk through the layers, the colors probably smell like coriander and sage, evoking memories of a time when things seemed more concrete, and all we had to worry about was getting our vocabulary homework handed in on time. I know, I’m waxing rhapsodically nostalgic, and I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side of 4^th grade….where we we?—ahh, yes, DECIDE, DETERMINE, CHOOSE! Gauche ou droite? Orange ou vert --what’s it gonna be, mon ami?

Aquarius- Upheaval, case in point: digging in the dirt, finding places we got hurt. Mayans and long dead philosophies are all that’s left of pre-human thought. We are different now, I swear it. And yet…our needs remain the same: food, shelter, warmth, ding-dongs, kung-fu movies preferably starring Bruce Lee, free wi-fi, soft serve ice cream on a sweltering midwestern eve…and so many, many more wonderful inventions of human desire. Praise the Creator!—whoever it is, or isn’t—or frak---what if we’re a soap bubble in an infinite bath tub of infinite soap-streams, and an abundance of ‘verses ‘pon ‘verses, ‘pon plethoras of ‘verses, ad infinauseum®. Such an absurd abundance that it simply takes too much potential timespace to get a hook through. Just throw your line in the water, where matters not. Fish and they will come.

Pisces- Man vs Man. Man vs nature. Man vs society. Man vs banana peels, casually tossed from car windows onto sidewalks replete with unaware passengers destined for a fateful spill. Man vs giant mutoid octopus donut. Man vs Klingon. I can’t keep all these versuses straight. I don’t want to be against the universe, I just disagree with its tactics sometimes. Pain as a teacher? Piffle…just so we can justify why terrible things happen in a chaos that doesn’t even have to post the ingredients on the menu, self legislated immunity from any form of civility or justice—like not creating tsunamis or causing cancer or letting old people drive. Especially this one: Man vs self. Oy, what a poisoned prick, the damoclean sword of one’s ego fighting the tides of the multiverse, and calling it evolution! Relax, you’re in the river headed for a nice lake with ducks and otters and picnic tables. It’ll be fun and there’s sandwiches.