Astrology Fulla Rompolicious Stoopid For A Planet Packin’ Big Time Frickin’ Crap
Get Real. Get Off. Get Thrillsum.
Astrology Nooz Type Stuffs
Prolly you should try here first.
It is way more sensible than goofin’ around at random. Trust me.
IS YOUR LIFE ASTROLOGY NIRVANA?
You packin’ max astrology firepower — or isya stargazy Nirvana mojo floppier than a Sphynx cat pumped fulla anaesthetics?
Time you discovered THE TRUTH!
My scientific TEST reveals all. In jus’ 10 killer questions, I’ll nail BEYOND ALL DOUBT whether your life is Astrology Nirvana or what.
You up for that … you potential ASTRO WEEDYPANTS?
DEFINITIVE MONTHLY HOROSCOPES PACKIN’ ZILCHO SCHWANGO
Alla the Astrology. Aries to Pisces. Febroooary 2018.
(It is so like you wanna, trooly.)
WHY 2018 IS NEW YEAR AF TILL 2020
Seems evrywan is packin’ motivational resolootions like stacked cosplay gals flaunt their squidos — but what is the pointa this annual charade?
Gotta figure we all seek positive change — but what the fuck January 1st gotta do with anythin’ transformational?
Real meat in the morphilicious Astro enhancer is alla the heavy dooty Saturn in Capricorn hardcore gowin’ down till 2020.
You want resolootion gonna las’ the distance beyond mebbe 3 loser fuckin’ weeks from starta 2018?
Then roll upya sleeves & come on in …
SAGITTARIAN PRINCESS ACTION A-ROMP ON TWITTER
Gotta figure catch-all Daily Predictions mebbe ’bout as frickin’ useless as a 100% lambswool DICK, but I drops ’em anyways —
along with razor-sharp insights into contemporary issues bearin’ down on the world, Zombie & Cosplay stuffs,
an’ whatever reactionary assholin’ around takes my fancy.
Whatchya think I am? A frickin’ astrologer?
Hey, but srsly — I figure 2018 gonna nibble sweet onya astro mojo till soulful purrs erupt from any flapsya got prodooce sound. Joopiter is rockin’ Scorpio’s Underworld tits, Saturn’s constructive powerhouse is back dishin’ the shit in Capricorn for the first time since the early 90s, an’ Uranus is gearin’ up for a monster splashdown in Taurus. That a fuckin’ planetary butt slapper or what? 2017, eat thy lame heart out!
But, listen, I knowya all here for the DEFINITIVE ASTROSTUFFS DISHO, so here’s what I got gowin’ down most days…
My blaaahg drops here Mondays on a sporadic whim, promisin’ plentya cool astrological commentary stuffs (long as I ain’t spent the weekend wankered … or dissolvin’ bath bombs on my boobies, which is my noo favorite excuse for bein’ mortally unreliable).
Further down the line, I got sum HANDY ASTRO GUIDES up for grabs soon as I can get my braino outta my asshole an’ go spellcheck ’em. Shit for each starsign, kinda thing. Drafts’re under my bed rn, but I would hope to have ’em up an’ runnin’ by mebbe 2027.
Way I see it, there is so much hot astro action swooshyin’ around here, I am surprised I don’t spend mosta my days writhin’ round on the floor in a poola my own exooberantly-squirted sweat.
Wanna 5-minnow guided tour? Principally to avoid bein’ labelled LAME by celestial shibboleths incarnate?
Mebbe you should go check out my Handy Horoscope Checklist HERE.
10 top Horoscope Consultation Strategy Tips — downloadable as a dinky freebie!
I also got a real cool Astro Quiz an’ a 2018 Primer for anywan lackin’ direction, willpower, resolootion — or a functionin’ braino.
Deal here is you get to discover ifya are an astro aficionado (in which case, go check the resta the blaaahg) or not (in which case fuck off the hell outta my face an’ go read sumone else’s dumb schwango).
These’re naaaht the cheap seats.
What In Hell Is Astrology —
And Why Should I Care?
You Think I Am Some Sort Of Imbecile, O Princess?
Hey, slow down willya?
I got a lotta balls to juggle here without this kinda aerial bombardmenta inquisition.
Thing is, you should care because we got fusiona past, present an’ future gowin’ on, an’ that is sum happnin’ conflux, tellya.
Walk away from that, you gonna prolly cease to exist as a sentient bein’ fulla potential (unless you are wearin’ leather pants, in which case your inevitable demise might leave the resta us with sumthin’ to remember you by).
Thing is, there is attraction an’ repulsion between material beings.
Throw in hooman emotion, a splasha celestial vapors, an’ alla that is magnified.
Or ain’tcha never kissed no one?
Brief Treatise On Kissin’
Scenario 1 — sum divine figmenta deliciousness touches onya neck all soft an’ sweet…
Scenario 2 — Concrete Tongue Stinky Person invades oneya finer crevices by surprise…
…equals BARF! RETCH! PUH-LEEEEEEUUUURRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!
Pointa astrology is not rocket science.
Jus’ think for a sec about how an’ whereya are right now.
Everythin’ rolled in from the past jus’ so…
…an’ now it is rollin’ out toward…
What kinda kissa possibilies?
Howya gonna put sum shape to shit don’t exist yet?
Thing is, Mother Cosmosis is fulla perpetually unfoldin’ stories — gossamerlicious to heartblade twistinya gut — an’ you gotta watch her close, drill down on re-imaginin’ the plotta sum book purportin’ to be already written.
Yeah, mebbe that is my kinda astrology.
You in for summa that or what?
*** Rockitz ***
Dare to enslipstream the stars.
Your shot — first and last — is all ours.
No echo of blast, no fall.
Firepower blazed over thrall.
“Slither deep into my mystical vestibule, O seekers of Truth Incarnate. I got Netflix, I got Nachos, I got Norwegian Sangria real cheap from the store, so prolly we can party big time while I spill the beans on what it is to be a beautiful ball of human deliciousness stranded in a Universe packing naught but dust and death.”