<span class="sdata" title="15"></span> <span class="sdata" title="05, 2018"></span>

Your Handy URANUS IN TAURUS Transit Primer 2018

By |<span class="sdata2" title="2018-05-15T10:26:02+00:00"></span>|Astro Narrative Rompo, Creativity, Savin' The Cosmos, Taurus, Uranus|0 Comments

YOUR HANDY

URANUS IN TAURUS TRANSIT PRIMER 2018

Is the 2018 Uranus in Taurus transit the BIG ONE?

Yanno … an astrological wiener so colossal no boxers can contain it?

Even before we get our hands on it an’ play around with its potentialities as they firm up before our eyes?

tbh, I think so.

Which means we are fortunate, you an’ Moi.

Cos we livin’ through a time packin’ real change — a way better scenario than suffocatin’ to death beneath no cardboard mleh comfort blanket Nirvana.

Gotta figure the Uranus in Taurus transit phenomenaaahn pulls on the change lever for three key reasons.

1) Gonna last till 2026.

Uranus is a slow-movin’ outer planet an’ its effects grow an’ manifest over time, slowly sweepin’ away whatever went on before.

So mebbe think ‘bout a mockin’ bird.

You get a mockin’ bird as an egg, you can train her up to sing anythin’ you wanna — soulful indie, ancient O Irish ballads, religious zealotry maxin’ on pomp — but 7-8 years later she gonna be dead, an’ you gotta go buy another mockin’ bird.

Right now, we switchin’ out a repertoire-rich-but-dead Aries bird for an egg got bull horns burstin’ outta it whose playlist we gotta learn up from scratch — assoomin’ the bird gonna play ball.

2) Uranus and Taurus Don’t See Eye To Eye

Key deal here is disruption vs stability.

Uranus packs a reflex says UPSET THE APPLE CART; Taurus wants to pile up the apples one by one, countin’ ‘em as she goes, till they are all safe an’ stable in the cart like a kinda apple mountain (less’n she eats ‘em first with a buncha cream & syrup, mebbe a coupla hundred burgers big as frickin’ scatter cushions).

As astrological unions go, this means an awkward compromise at best an’ one-sided dom at worst.

For sure it is an erratic an’ unpredictable vibe — an’ not one we gonna accommodate easily jus’ cos it goes on for so long.

(The opposite situation is when a planet comes home to roost in its own sign and its energies can be tapped to perfection — a situation like the current Saturn in Capricorn scenario which I know for a fact evrywan is enjoyin’ so, so very much.)

3) Uranus bcs

Anythin’ involvin’ Uranus maxes out on the erratic change deal by default.

Here’s the math …

Take the Uranus outta Uranus in Taurus … an’ you jus’ got Taurus.

An’ what use would it be if planet Oith relied on purdy lookin’ moo cows alone?

Eatin’ pizza at one end, poopin out liquid fertilizer at the other, an’ slowly growin’ the place into a verdant paradise gonna make the Utopian Gaia vision look ecologically pure as pressed orange juice sum alien cephalopod cyborg peed in?

(Actschwlly, this vision sounds mebbe not so bad rn whenya consider the zillion ways hoomankind be trashin’ the place with its eco-harmin’ tech an’ plastic, but even Paradise cannot persist in stasis an’ evrythin’ needs a poke in the ass from time to time.)

Fact is, Uranus loves nuthin’ more than to initiate disruption jus’ to see what happens, an’ in Taurus, it found a real cosy home where it can inflict max possible damage.

So, listen — we in for an excitin’ ride.

I would wanna suggest how Taurus an’ Scorpio gonna be the signs most affected by the Uranus in Taurus transit, followed by Aquarius (cos Uranus rules over the water bearer’s domain) an’ Leo (cos she the 4th fixed sign in the groop gonna be buffeted in the maelstrom) … then evryfucker else.

But let’s be clear here — like the already up-&-runnin’ Saturn in Capricorn vibe (*bliss*), Uranus in Taurus is a distinct astrological epoch gonna make its mark an’ lay down tracks for all eternity.

The Aries-to-Taurus switchout is a major shifta gear on an Unconvention Machine gonna inflooence our loyalties an’ loosen up our firm convictions in a whole buncha areas in our Lifestyle Array.

So here’s my top 5 pointers to how evrywan can maximise their opportoonities in this bright noo epoch …

Uranus in Taurus Transit 2018 — Blessin’ in Disguise #1

You May Not be Holy Butchya Sure Can Be Verdant

Ain’t so long ago that nowan recycled nuthin’ an’ raw waste got poured into rivers without a care.

Now we all super diligent in so many small ways an’ we seein’ ecological improvements roll out before our eyes — from our neighborhoods through to the wider world.

Tellya, we are so darn green it is like we are Groot — an’ we can feel proud we done great things to reverse environmental catastrophe.

Thing is, we the first generations to think real serious ‘bout these ishoos from a global perspective, an’ what Uranus in Taurus gonna reveal is how we been real fuckin’ feeble.

Jus’ cos we all pack energy-friendly light bulbs an’ don’t flush our tampons directly down the toilet to avoid killin’ baby seals don’t mean we ain’t still headed toward the Abyss.

So we gonna see a big time environmental step-up here — an’ we gonna discover ourselves more zest to make it happen.

This means plenty noo tech got pro-environmental smarts built in — a Uranian revolution that delivers the tools we need to quit poisonin’ the world to death.

Could this revolution begin with YOU?

Depends on howya view the Uranian vibe.

Sumtimes, Uranus plays the eccentric inventor, an’ one bright spark summons miracles from outta seemin’ vapor.

Other times, Uranus harnesses a global movement benefits the common person — an’ I figure we gonna see way more shit operatin’ on this kinda ticket.

Crowdfunded pressure groups packin’ PRO- ‘steada ANTI- agendas — with real power to create news an’ effect change, ‘speshly regardin’ planetary greenness.

We been told for too long by the guys with the money that money don’t grow outta the ground — yet these are so often the self-servin’ bastards who plunder the Earth an’ its resources like they were in infinite supply.

Whatevah you wanna call that deal (an’ I would recommend “Plain Stoopid”), Uranus in Taurus says TIME’S UP.

So, c’mon — ‘fess up fronta the mirror how your planet-lovin’ prowess be kinda feeble — an’ go help fix up sum verdant-powered, green-conscious initiative sumplace.

Uranus in Taurus Transit 2018 — Blessin’ in Disguise #2

What A Great Time To Be a Nipple Attached To a Sensorium

Can’t look in on no Uranus in Taurus transit for too long without talkin’ boobies — an’ tinglydanglies in general.

Anywan made sweet amour with a Taurus knows they be tactile frickin’ rocket fuel.

You wanna feel wanted, loved, cherished, pampered, blown away downstairs — hook up with a Taurus.

For sure any Uranian revolution in the blendyjuicy department got robot sex written all over it, but that is the creepy extreme to the forthcomin’ vibe.

An’ natchrlly we gonna discover excitin’ noo ways to make with the Intimate Pleasure deal, even though we already done evry Yoga posture allows two people to lick each other’s assholes without breakin’ their frickin’ arms.

For Moi, the bold noo Uranian deal gonna feature a kinda earnest communion.

Gender flooidity means we got more waysa meetin’ up an’ makin out beyond whether we doin’ a handstand while our partner brings us off with their ears.

For all their differences, the Uranian an’ Taurean vibes got their own particular integrity, an’ I figure the interpersonal tenderness needed to trooly hit on an excited an’ pampered nipple gonna receive a real boost as people engage with one another on an adventurously honest level means they free to express their unique integrity.

So, yeah, we gonna see robots packin’ all kindsa rotatin’ cunny stimulators, but also a whole buncha beautifully decloaked individyools makin’ out more open an’ sweet, wherever their union finds ‘em on the gender plateau.

Starts May 15th, so go make with the authentically zappy Frenchies Nouveaux

Uranus in Taurus Transit 2018 — Blessin’ in Disguise #3

From The Financial Wreckage Shall a More Salient Point About Value & Exchange Spring Like a Christmas Cracker Froggy

This is prolly the feature you expectin’ to see in this kinda article.

Taurus got plenty to say ‘bout finance, so natchrlly the erratic Uranus inflooence means alla the world’s money houses be damned an’ the fyooture gonna run on Bitcoin, kinda thing.

But I would wanna look in on Taurus as a Zodiac packs real insight ‘bout VALUE an’ the one-to-one protocols governin’ fair exchange.

Finance is but one exchange mechanism packs this deal — an’ for sure it is in for a revoolution gonna make the process easier an’ fairer — but filthy lucre is not the enda the story.

In our small ways, we meet an’ greet on all kindsa levels an’ exchange all kindsa personstuffs.

We would wanna be fair an ‘ considerate, but sumtimes we ain’t — an’ our unconsciously one-sided behavior has consequences.

(If we wilfully that way, shame on us, I guess.)

Gotta think here ‘bout the classic “Undervalued Taurus” — sulkin’ away in the corner with an expression like she been slapped in the face with a dead frickin’ toona fish bcs nowan complemented her on her cookin’.

Way I see it, same way as Uranus in Taurus means we gonna wish for a more trooly verdant planet, we also gonna look in more generous on the offers people make to the world.

Startups … based on individyool talents an’ skills unlocked … destined to power up the world with noo smarts … an’ generate noo ways to thank people for what they got — this is what is comin’.

For sure, finance in all its evolvin’ forms will help run the show — but the key transaction gonna be value an’ talent harnessed anew (which for Moi mebbe means chargin’ for astrological readings plus a free ankle & ear lobe massage in pizza or tights.)

Like Jesse J said, it ain’t all about the money — an’ let’s face it, that was years ago before most people saw Uranus in Taurus comin’.

So please be ready to value the people in your life with more earnestness an’ vison.

Uranus in Taurus Transit 2018 — Blessin’ in Disguise #4

Your New Personal Philosophy Jus’ Trashed Your Old Identity

I got a feelin’ permanence gonna become more flooid — an’ this mebbe gonna make more sense to anywan keeps a journal, operates a personal manifesto or introspects till their hairdo periodically retracts into their skull for a reboot.

We all got ideas an’ thoughts about ourselves kinda grow an’ change through time.

If that weren’t the deal, prolly we would all be wasps.

Summa us flux an’ change all over, others remain broadly steady, but for eacha us — fixed to mutable to cardinal … Aries to Pisces — there is an idea we got ‘bout havin’ a personal CORE.

Take Susie Drivelshitter from Texas, for example.

She a Gemini got green hair now ‘steada purple, an’ she ridin’ motorcycles ‘steada horses.

Her temper is more even than mebbe 5 years ago, but she also way more stressed.

But hey, good ol’ Susie Drivelshitter still talks a loada crap — an’ she knows it.

Take the drivel shit outta the Susie … an’ she kinda ceases to exist.

We all got a CORE like that — a whole buncha essentialstuffs we recognise intimately as excloosively US.

As Uranus bulldozes its sparky all over Taurus, this CORE gonna receive temptin’ invitations to bend & twist — an’ I phrase that in a more positive way than sayin’ sumthin’ like we gonna discover heart & soul under siege cos I don’t want nowan runnin’ for the hills cos they fear the next 8 years gonna screw ‘em outta their personal existence.

It will only feel like that occasionally — like mebbe evry Toosday … and mosta Wednesday to Monday.

An’ mebbe the positive way to view this … ahemfundamental CORE review is to figure on how the smartest buncha solootions hoomankind gonna discover ain’t happened yet.

See, cos the fyooture always depends on shit turnin’ out different.

So imagine how cheated you gonna be in 2026 whenya CORE is 100% Same Old Same Old as it is today.

Might the changes you never saw be entirely dependent on this stubborn ol’ CORE immutability?

Two ways to look at this, I guess.

From a purely disruptive perspective, Uranus in Taurus opens up the possibility for a total personal revolootion where we willingly embrace transformation in our personal CORE beyond what we would ordinarily have tolerated or believed — an’ we do so despite the shocks because we desire a noo an’ authentic freedom.

Alternatively, we gotta remember how disruption is so very often an illoominatin’ change in our pointa view — in which case, our CORE might come through the Uranian blender in one integrity-packin’ piece, only this time we appreciate its value in novel ways open up opportoonities for change we previously could not see.

Alternatively, Uranus gonna take us all by surprise like the mid-coitus sudden finger up the pooper.

Whatever happens, be ready to look in on essential growth-propulsin’ maintenance to your CORE an’ accept the enhancements with gratitood an’ not too much writhin’ around on the floor screamin’ your tits off.

Uranus in Taurus Transit 2018 — Blessin’ in Disguise #5

Dropdead Donuts

Can’t ever talk ‘bout Taurus for too long without mentionin’ donuts.

See, cos for alla her colossal work ethic an’ values-driven diligence, Taurus is merely a pleasure-seekin’ sensationbeest wantsta stuff infinite YUMMIES down her throat.

An’ by donuts, I mean the bagel kind — yanno, the ones with the holes in the center?

Tellya, those kindsa donuts are the real Taurean deal.

Sit Taurus down at the dinner table with that kinda donut, an’ as she is consoomin’ it like a black hole devours stars, she mebbe say sumthin’ like, “I understand how everyone figures we Taureans eat way too much food — but look here at this donut with NOTHING at its center! In my own sweet way, I am almost fasting as I eat — just think of all the carbs I am denying myself thanks to this enormous vacuum in my lunch space.”

Course, the bigger the central hole, the bigger the donut diameter — butchya must never point that out to got-the-food-deal-sorted ol’ Taurus.

So what does this all mean?

I figure two major developments.

Truth about the donut with the hole in the center is how plenty people in the world got access to the donut part where others merely got the hole.

World gotta eat, an’ right now it fuckin’ don’t — an’ like the deal we got with cleanin’ the place up so we can all prosper in a verdant haven stimulates us to generate cool shit, we gotta get way smarter ‘bout invitin’ evrywan along to the eats.

Jus’ ain’t good enough no more for those packin’ the donut parta the donuts to say, “we trooly sorry yallz live sumplace too hot an’ dry to make food production a doozy, an’ for sure we’d inviteya all over to ours for a serious party, only we closin’ our borders to your kinda people, so here’s a buncha old clothes we don’t want no more, mebbe you can make ‘em into soup or sumthin’”

Lookin’ around the world to the places don’ got too many 24 hour burger joints vomitin’ garbage, I see plenty honorary Taureans real protective ‘bout their place an’ their culture who value their environment as home despite alla its hardships.

An’ I also see plenty honorary Uranians loadin’ up their cashier-free superstores with impossibly fancy Zero Effort food nowan wants whose essential narrative is … I get prodooced at vast expense … I sit on the shelf at vast expense … only to be thrown in the trash at great expense.

Tellya, we got a real imbalance regardin’ eats demands a revolootionry kick in the teeth — an’ the Uranus in Taurus energy is perfectly suited to gettin’ stuck in on this kinda global ishoo.

Values, essentials, all the world’s hoomans — an’ a smarter solootion than ever wider donuts with glarin’ holes in the center.

Truth is, food is a person-maker, an’ without it, you don’t got no fuckin’ persons.

It is a universal truth — so please be more universally considerate whenya stuffin’ your face.

Uranus in Taurus Transit 2018 —
Concloosion Accordin’ To Moi

So thereya have it — five killer ways the Uranus in Taurus transit gonna impact positively on alla our lives despite the potentially alarmin’ growin’ pains gotta be negotiated along the way.

It is a disruptive energy let loose, for sure — coupla vibes don’t sit real easy together nonetheless makin’ with the combinatorial creativity deal best they can.

Broad narrative gonna look in on how change is a permanent fixture in our lives an’ how our CORE life essentials can mebbe mutate into smarter noo versionsa ‘emselves an’ transform integrity into an evolvin’ rather than conservative force.

An’ if’n that sounds too high-falutin’ or aspirationally speculative, gotta remember how any such change or permanence-in-flux stuffs gonna be felt real close up.

For Moi, that is the real dynamic.

So much about Uranus is sparkiness zammin’ faroff — a disconnected kinda wizardry.

Contrast that vibe with the immediate sensual hit Taurus values — evrythin’ from perfect pasta to rockin’ art to the warmest hug ever — an’ it is clear we got a bizarro kinda mismatch gonna shake shit up on evry level from the intelletyool to the evryday an’ practical.

But this great opportoonity we got to pool sweet an’ smart as global hoomans ain’t no kinda magic gonna happen jus’ cos the planets swung round all dinky.

We gotta shape alla this shit ourselves — decide we gonna take advantage durin’ the 8 years this once-in-a-lifetime panorama be ours to re-envisage.

So plz look in on howya directly impact on your world an’ the people in it.

What kinda tangible phenomenon movin’ through time & space areya, anyways?

An’ whatchyoo gonna do to elevate the deal we all got gowin’ down?

Gotta figure substantial change don’t start from anyplace else than this — person by person, planetwide.

Be in no doubt, Sweeties, Uranus in Taurus gonna pull the mess & bless deal withya Mojo …

Title Image c/o 41330 @ Pixabay

Tellya, you wanna look in on plenty GREEN imagry & feel soothed downta your soul, go check these real neat photographs.

Spread the love, slip in the bookmark, mix up the linky.

<span class="sdata" title="13"></span> <span class="sdata" title="11, 2017"></span>

5 Reasons Why Noo Millennial Astrology Differs From Owd (Mostly Wooden) Historical Shit

By |<span class="sdata2" title="2018-03-13T13:11:04+00:00"></span>|Astro Narrative Rompo, Cosmic Roolz, Illusion, Imaginary Friends, Millennial Shitz, Relationships, Savin' The Cosmos|0 Comments

5 REASONS WHY NOO MILLENNIAL ASTROLOGY DIFFERS FROM OWD (MOSTLY WOODEN) HISTORICAL SHIT

As hoomanity cruises toward 2018, Noo Millennial Astrology stands poised to outstrip its Zeroth to 20th Century sisters in termsa popularity, application & plain ol’ fun.

Tbh, it stands so poised, it is practically layin’ splooshied out on sum polychromatic fuckin’ Yoga mat.

Even the habitually facts-oriented New York Post started runnin’ astrology articles to boost sales.

In their latest offerin’ — “Millennials Are Ditching Religion For Astrology” — they suggest how Western spirityool hipsters’re prolly way more gullible than their Chinese counterparts when it comes to stargazy stuffs cos they got Sil Valley-powered tech delivers ‘em astrology as an app & way more cultural an’ sekshoal diversity makes ‘em intrinsically stoopider than previous generations (though to be fair, the NYP did not offer no tacky starsign keyfobs as free gifts to lure the more practically airheaded Millennials along for the ride).

(2018 Update — The Guardian rolls along also on another fine pre-emptive scoop.)

Question I got as a Millennial astrologer person is what can we all mebbe expect from the unfoldin’ centuries in termsa life-enhancin’ astrology action compared to the thousand years jus’ plunged offa history’s cliff face in a swirlin’ clouda Vikings, Rennayssance art an’ vibratin’ dildos?

Cos it is not like the planets’re gowin’ anyplace beyond the Milky Way anytime soon — less’n hoomanity fucks on the Solar System like it has fucked on most places down here on Terrorized Firma’s ‘sweet virgin ravaged hard in the ass’ environment … an’ pitches the whole planetary dance troupe into Oblivion.

Gotta figure Venus an’ Joopiter gonna spin on an’ kiss up once in a while, jus’ like always — dootifully accompanied by Mars an’ Neptoon an’ Plooto an’ alla their globesy galaxy-stuffs pals.

So … as the Noo Millennium leaves the startin’ block behind an’ stomps headlong into the fyooture, gotta ask … what is gonna happen different?

You Planning On Telling Us Any Time Soon, O Princess? We New Millennium Millennials Lead Astonishingly Busy Lives And We Have No Desire To Inadvertently Court Costly Stress Reduction Therapy Sessions Just Because Your Ramblings Distracted Us From Our Hourly LOLcat Share Fix And We Freaked The Fuck Out.

K, so here is your lame LOLcat.

hairtrigger tigger LOLcat pisses astrology millennials

Satisfied?

Point is, you gotta remember how astrology originally got formulated an’ disseminated back before there weren’t no science to say ASTROLOGY AIN’T FUCKIN’ SCIENCE, GODDAMIT!!!

Tbh, those early astrologers had no clue whether they was predictive geniuses or merely deluded imbeciles in a world packin’ even dumber goobers.

See, cos prolly mosta the truthseekers queuing up outside the star-emblazoned tents an’ wagons centera evry backwater hamlet could read an’ write less good than the weevils crawlin’ around in their fuckin’ pants.

Result?

Any astrologers smiled sweet enough & mebbe had a cat or toad to pet, they could prolly get away with sayin’ anythin’ an’ pass it off as prediction.

Here is mebbe one such scenario…

ASTROLOGER — I sense fortune ahead, maybe even langoustines.

WEEVIL-INFESTED, CRETINOUS LOWLIFE PACKIN’ BENT GROAT — Gee, that’s so swell! But what exactly is a langoustine?

ASTROLOGER (Aside, To Where Hidden Camera Gonna Be In Like 1100 Years) — Hahaha, stoopid frickin’ ditzbrain! How easily do I rob this buffoon of his moolah in exchange for wanton improvisation on a roll!

WEEVIL-INFESTED, CRETINOUS LOWLIFE PACKIN’ BENT GROAT —Hey, I heard that! Plus I’m a GOIL BUFFOON, you impertinent shitbag!

See, back then in the Owd (Mostly Wooden) Millennium, astrology was real easy.

Tellya, I am super envious ‘bout any stargazy types prior to 1781 cos even WAY SMART SCIENCE got no clue ‘bout Uranus, Neptoon or Plooto up till that point — meanin’ dishin’ out natal charts was way less effort, the fuckin’ slackers.

Time was when all astrologers gotta do was eyeball the Moon for a few secs … an’ they could write out Forthcominge Hooman Historye till 4789.

Today’s astrologers gotta factor alla these noocomer planetary babies into their astro analyses — along with a whole buncha peripheral moons, nodes & miscellaneous schwango.

Do We Detect The Subtlest Hint Of Petulant Rage Bubbling From Deep Within, O Princess?

Tbh, prolly I would not care ‘bout the slacker natal chart deal if’n yesterday’s astrologers didn’t also got zero stylist an’ administration ishoos cozza their total lacka hairdryers an’ need for any kinda organization requires binge-watchin’ sum frickin’ Netflix show.

Aw, but hey — like I promised starta this article, the noo astrological Millennium we all kickstartin’ rn got way more potential than the one began with Jesus an’ a calendar finally kinda gowin’ sumplace positive.

You want my top five reasons for makin’ this proclamation?

K, so here they are…

1) Noo Millennial Astrology Gonna Kiss Way Sweeter On PEOPLE

Coolest deal ‘bout astrology is how it arises from people ‘steada planets.

Remove alla the people from the world in mebbe a Trump vs Kimmee The Nooker Infant-out Scenario, an’ alla the planets’ backstory disappears alongside the predictive potentialities inherent in their sweet, sweet dance.

I dunno, mebbe sum weird noots gonna survive any ‘nook or asteroid or zombies’ Apocalypse moseys along, butchya gotta figure they ain’t gonna be too intrested in Mercury gowin’ retrograde or no kinda waxin’ moons.

An’ what in hell would a Leo noot look like anyways?

Scaly amphibian mother hangs out in a pond got fuck all courageous feline attributes far as I can see — less’n they got a buncha wigs an’ costooms down there so’s they can put on an annual Broadway-style show for alla the other scaly amphibian mothers beached in the mud.

Gotta figure, despite all the croolty an’ brutality an’ discrimination we toleratin’in the world rn, that hooman peoples’re becomin’ more peopler an’ soulful — an’ the artsy, heartsy approach astrology offers by waya delish narrative an’ story stuffs touchin’ sweet on feelo prolly gonna help us all along way better than bein’ chained to the stiflin’, po-faced visiona what contistooted a person for most centuries the Owd (Mostly Wooden) Millennium packed (an’ you can read more ‘bout those lame fuckers in my Sagittarian Firepower post jus’ here).

That is a neato advance, even if nowan don’t actschwlly believe in astrology.

Baseline, a casyool conversation ‘bout what it is to be a TAURUS (for example) could figure as a call to action for sumthin’ more substantial an’ life-changin’.

SAGITTARIUS — So … you’re a Taurus, huh?

TAURUS — Yeah, I guess.

SAGITTARIUS — Prolly that is why you’re stacking the cellulite like a vampire prowls the night hungry for blood.

TAURUS — You suggesting I go see my doctor for a health check?

SAGITTARIUS — I’m suggesting you lose the skin-tight joggers before I wince myself to death.

2) Noo Millennial Astrology Gonna Keep The Sex Hormone Suckin’ Aliens At Bay

Was a time when we figured alla the Aztec an’ Ancient Egyptian architecture was downta mysterious aliens stayed awhile before equally mysteriously fuckin’ off.

Personally, I do not buy that story bcs Wal-Mart.

When discount meets quality with such pro-creatively synthesised finesse, gotta figure any bug-eyed aliens packin’ warp-powered spacecraft an’ pyramid-constructin’ smarts gonna head back down on us for frozen dinners in bulk.

But I been wrong before — a frank admission, I guess, seein’ as how I graduated from Astrology School maxin’ out on predictive credentials bestowed by Mother Cosmosis herself … an’ said skillset is my only passage to a life drenched in Vodka — an’ I would wanna hope that if aliens DID build alla that shit … an’ they ARE comin’ back sumtime soon … they gonna be mighty impressed with how we leveled up their past achievements all nouveau un-crapopla ASTRO.

Keepin’ aliens happy is the same deal as makin’ out real swell in college, job, relationship or fam — if a major leagues Significant Other lovesya, they way less likely to rip offya head, let alone strapya to a weirdsy experimentation table an’ drainya sex hormones out through a hi-tech frickin’ syringe.

Tellya, those aliens gonna look at we Noo Millennial Astrology types an’ say, “how rewarding it is to discover a fundamentally cerebrally challenged race of creatures so creatively dismissive of the truth about their extra-terrestrial origins that they prefer to countenance a romance-stuffed reality based less on bug-eyed ubersavants such as ourselves and more on the exploits of imaginary beings like horse-people packing missile weapons and fish-tailed goats whose permanently dour expressions defy what is anatomically possible from a FACE.”

3) Noodles

This is nuthin’ related to anythin’ much btw — but I reached the point in my writin’ where I gotta go fill up on noodles.

It is a cool strategy works for most stuffs, from caressin’ my regular Monthly Horoscopes into fully erect monolithsa Foretellismo to offerin’ astro insights on “double the drivel” Twitter.

I dunno, there is sumthin’ comfortin ‘bout havin’ a bowla noodles next to my keyboard I can kinda dip in on as I leap from line to paragraph like an enthoosiastic puppy chasin’ astrology’s balls.

An’ mebbe we got an analogy here with how Noo Millennial Astrology gonna work out.

At heart, astrology got structure — a real formal architecture with which it is possible to sublimely fuck.

Prolly back in the day, structure was rolled out more or less straight — I am a prescient harridan in a sparkly cape and you are a spiderweb of uncertainty … so what say I fix up the rest of your life in exchange for moolah and kudos? — but now we can swooshie the architecture around an’ kinda multitask so’s a new blenda prediction delivery can roll all hip an’ swankospanko outta astrology’s juicy vestibule.

I don’t wanna get diverted by no fledglin’ noodlemancy here, but I figure the options we all generated for ourselves as we clambered our way through the Owd (Mostly Wooden) Millennium gotta reflect back to their pointsa historical origin an’ evolve our methodologies sum.

(I jus’ seen a noodle ducky hangin’ offa my chopsticks btw — but in a 1-to-1 consultation, coulda been a metaphorical noose spells big trouble for a payin’ Cancer worrypants.)

More people in the world, more interactions, more stuffs, more waysa bein’ a person got pride — gotta figure alla these evolutions on the themea WHAT WE ALL KINDA ARE & DO gonna feed back into the same ol’ pussycats an’ scorpions an’ balancin’ scales with ever brighter proto-narrative verve.

Ha! Either it gonna be like THAT … or hoomankind chooses to get WAY STUCK bustin’ out on lamestuffs gowin’ noplace.

(That las’ observation was inspired by sum noodle ain’t cooked proper & all globbied together, btw. Jus’ gotta take a pee now before returning to the troo astrological fray for Part 4.)

4) Noo Millennial Astrology Gonna Gush Deeper Into The Wellspringa Life

Prolly back in the day, mysticism manifested merely as a trickle.

It is troo people prolly were more receptive to ideas ‘bout demonic possession an’ shit, but most times all they done was lead tragically miserable lives from which any kinda story but DEATH FAMINE DEATH FAMINE LOUSY UNDERWEAR DEATH FAMINE was real absent.

But today’s stories got more space to flourish on out an’ grow pools an’ oceans fulla supermutable possibility cos they more like a torrent than a trickle.

An’ I guess the deal is … when liquids flow on out an’ re-blend, creative conflux is inevitable.

We prolly only startin’ to see how personal mythology fluxed out on ever-adaptin’ astrology gonna enrich us.

Flipside, gotta wonder what benefits gonna accrue if’n astrology were taken outta the mix.

Tellya, if those Uranus-free Owd-time astrologers turned on the predictive & illustrative faucet way back, the Noo Millennial Astrologers we got springin’ up evryplace from Tumblr to Kickstarter-funded, star-emblazoned tents pitched up in the mall jus’ pulled out the frickin’ hosepipe an’ made with the unrestrained squirtin’.

From brief lives fulla toil came wondrous stories — narrative whirlpools gonna repurpose ‘emselves as waterfalls as life’s wellspring demands sweeter succor.

Plus also … yeah, I peed down my leg ‘fore’n I reached the john.

Prolly next blaaahg post I should leave out the Chai tea an’ strap a bucket to my fuckin’ fanj, I dunno…

5) Noo Millennial Astrology Gonna Inform The Cyborg Revolootion

We all know how the robots’re comin’ — but I would wanna wish always that we ain’t stoopid enough to build faux-persons replace actschwl people.

It is more than jus’ wonderin’ what sum folks gonna do once the expertise firin’ up their livelihoods is taken off ‘em by sum crappy plastic AI-driven slave — an’ I am thinkin’ here ‘bout a loser fyooture where spirityooly alienated persons gotta spend quality bar hangout time with manufactured dinkiness got no IRL brains or heart.

But I figure that kinda Bladerunner 2049 scenario ain’t gonna happen.

That kinda invention an’ convenience may ease us along sumplace cool — like electric toothbrushes are way better than their predecessors, ‘specially ifya need a cheap thrill — butchya gotta figure we are essentially pleasure seekers at heart, an’ without payoff proffers heart up front, seems a barren kinda deal to Moi.

But, listen, we got astrology for cats, right?

An’ dogs an’ hamsters an’ iguanas an’ … the whole damn menagerie.

Gotta figure nouveau body parts is already here — noo hips for old folks got way too athletic in the bendy bumsex sack back in the day, hot noo teeth don’t makeya look like a frickin’ horse, noo heart so’s you can party big time without bein’ labeled a corpse — an’ alla this stuff eventually gonna tech on out all cyborg.

That means … Capricornian synthetic digestive tract for stricto dieters … Cancerian 11th finger for emo guitar players … Taurean 3-speed dick for mebbe Mondays (an’ a 10-speed leather-feel option for the weekend links all supersynapse with same partsa the brain recognise DONUTS as YUMMO).

Tellya, I get noo enhanced body parts when I am 167, I wanna call out their starsign.

Like always, I wanna mix an’ match alla my stuffs for maxo compatibility.

Gotta figure Libran musical boobies gonna perform way different to Scorpio musical boobies — an’ that is beforeya even consider astro-cyborg compatibility match-up potential.

“I so love my Gemini Wit-o-Tonguetm — but it conflicts real uncomfortable with my Poopomatictm Sagittarian asshole flaps.”

“The levitation facility on my Pisces Neptu-tootsietm feet is real cool for buzzin’ around the place, but when I am getting fucked with my legs wrapped behind my head, they throw the circuits in my Virgo UltraDistinguishalyzertm eyeballs an’ my guy shoots off too quick cos he thinks I am cummin’”

“So, yeah, I got me one of those 10-speed Taurean BullyThrustotm cyberdicks, but its inherently beautiful curves simply don’t segue to stylistic perfection with the glass spikes jutting from my PerinealBlitzkriegtm Aquarius ballbag.”

Tellya, if’n the fyooture gonna feature enhanced hoomans bustin’ out on a cyborg ticket, I wanna see astrology-friendly marketin’ strategies — or I ain’t buyin’.

Noo Millennial Astrology — A Minxydizy Astrologer Person’s Expert Summary

Point is, we got sum real important dialogs happnin’ now between generations — more IRL an’ interactive than anyone from any fyooture got touch on what went down centuries past.

Trads, Boomers, Gen X, Millennials, Gen Y, Centennials, Pan-epoch Wankotwazzlers — we all cohabit the current hooman polyblendo, an’ we all breathe stories in & pump ‘em out.

Mebbe our myootyool journey has delivered us to a real flooid point we OK bein’ happy ‘bout — a less fixed perspective than the trad Trad POV, but one pulsin’ out on its own kinda rhythm & roolz.

An’ in this swirla hooman story, gotta figure Leo still gonna be Leo — proudly archetypal kittypops — but her adventures mebbe gonna play out different from way back when her fiercely courageous POV was less ‘bout throwin’ on a pussy hat & more about screamin’ for the right to have a say in the first fuckin’ place.

Prolly sum people figure astrology is loopydoops fantasypants, but it is precisely cozza the imaginary narrative realm over which it holds sway that its intrinsic formality forever discovers excitin’ noo ways to manifest.

Mebbe I will expand on this theme another time (when the planets scowl down upon Moi & say FFS we are so excitingly multimanifestular, we’re quitting the astrology wheelhouse an’ forging ahead as venture capitalists hooked on porn), but for now, be bright & beautiful bunnies to one another asya bibbidy boop your way through the unfoldin’ celestial panorama.

You lose your way, I am always here — closer to your spirityool side than a faithful dog lickin’ on its owner’s face cos it jus’ bit the end offa its own dick — an’ you can come check my Monthly Horoscopes any time … along with Twitter, Tumblr, Medium an’ Buzzfeed (link pendin’).

“Gonna make fertile soil, gotta shit outta more’n one asshole.”

Title Image c/o Coyot @Pixabay

Delishest LOLcat Evah c/o Ian Robinson … also @ Pixabay

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<span class="sdata" title="18"></span> <span class="sdata" title="09, 2017"></span>

Autumn Equinox Rituals — Your Complete Guide

By |<span class="sdata2" title="2017-09-17T14:35:55+00:00"></span>|Autumn Equinox, Mother Cosmosis, Practical Astrology|0 Comments

YOUR COMPLETE GUIDE TO AUTUMN EQUINOX RITUALS

Gotta be honest here, but trad Autumn Equinox rituals kinda piss me off big time.

It is not that I am no astro heretic or nuthin’ … nor that I disrespect tradition an’ alla the committed souls past an’ present who been dootiful upholdersa The Way… nor even that I got a problem wearin’ the costooms or toyin’ with the regalia …

it’s jus’ I would want always for major astro celebrations to be as individyool an’ spontaneous as they are eternal.

So, hey — we are all thinkin’ ‘bout Mother Cosmosis’ imminent Summer-to-Autumn switcheroo rn, an’ we are all makin’ plans for how we gonna celebrate this celestially charged time, so I got sum suggestions for mebbe howya might wanna swooshie along with the 2017 take on Autumn Equinox rituals an’ kinda personalize it for the benefita your own unique booby doo.

I am nuthin’ if not no diligent servant regardin’ your 24/7 astro info lustiness…

Autumn Equinox Rituals — The Historical Perspective

Truth be told, Autumn Equinox prolly goes back to the dawna time, yanno, ever since Mother Cosmosis fixed up alla the planets.

Ritual part came way later — less’n dinosaurs got an angle on the deal or alla that amoeboid gloop we got right at the starta life on Earth kinda wiggled its collective proto-ass on a sympathetic vibe ticket.

Rituals only trooly start with people — world over, all kindsa styles.

An’ the main deal to understand here beyond the form alla those rituals took (an’ still take) is the essential content — the reason for botherin’ when actschwlly we got cool TV shows prolly gonna be more fun or (back in the day) bunnies to hunt down with spears made outta enemy bones.

Gotta figure evry Autumn Equinox we are celebratin’ onea the Earth’s major changesa heart — payin’ homage to life’s eternal cycles by wavin’ goodbye to our favo bikinis an’ breakin’ out the long coats an’ scarves … switchin’ out barbecues an’ fat guys showin’ crack for pumpkin soup an’ hallowe’en masks … rompin’ off for sex in the woods only to discover our goosebumps are bigger an’ stiffer than our strawbos an’ dicks.

Autumn Equinox shows, an’ the final walk back from the beach becomes the long an’ arduous trudge through wind an’ frickin’ rain to Christmas, whereupon enforced gaiety gonna collide with a real shitty selectiona gifts from relativesya hate an’ enough fatty garbage to guarantee the Noo Year boolimic puke-fest hurls an’ spews an’ regurgitates itself alla the way through to Spring.

Who wouldn’t wanna celebrate that?

What we got here with the Autumn Equinox is a self-evident reason to rejoice, whether ye be astro aficionado or astro skeptic.

However we argue among ourselves ‘bout the meaninga what is gowin’ on, the natural world has dominion over the spectacle we witness.

Evry astrologer person an’ astrology aficionado dies, planets gonna spin on, blissfully aloof as an Aquarian pop star refuses to sign autographs … give interviews or pose for the cameras … or actschwlly sing in frickin’ toon.

Always, there gonna be planetary dance an’ shimmy; an always, celestial energy gonna flux an’ spasm an’ renew as an ever-evolvin’ Cosmos demands.

Any creature comes outta that got eyes an’ life an’ heart gonna sit up an’ take real big notice, gonna reflect forevermore ‘pon the visuals, the changes, the flowa time.

Guess it is our turn now — post-gen Z to pre-Boomer — to fix on the marvel an’ draw succor from its immense stories.

Aries to Pisces, we all here this week, lookin’ on.

So we gotta ask — what is ritual?

Is it past tradition, kept alive like mebbe whenya reheat sum half-chewed frickin’ pizza for blearo-eyed breakfast after a party?

Or does 2017’s take on the Autumn Equinox ritual demand that it is uniquely US an’ uniquely OUR SHIT gotta dictate how we celebrate this yet-to-happen spectacle?

Autumn Equinox Rituals — As Cherished By “Those Who Went Before But Are Now Kinda Fuckoed”

Gotta figure alla those Deep Wicca spirits floopsyin’ around the Afterlife on their psilocybe- splattered broomstick-cum-fanjsmackers ain’t guaranteed to be deeply moved by anyone down here honorin’ the Autumn Equinox on a rote tradition ticket.

Most important thing about the Afterlife?

It goes on forever!

Las’ thing evryone in the Afterlife wants is a ritual goes on an’ on’ an’ on, year after year after year, same old same old after same old same old after same old same old.

Thinka how you gonna feel after listenin’ to Taylor Swift warblin’ [insert your total favo Swift song here!] back to back for like a frickin’ month!

Tellya, you suffer that assault onya sensorium, you gonna wanna try ANYTHIN’ BUT.

Anyways, alla the Zodiac got their own take on Autumn Equinox rituals, an’ a standard catch-all trope-packed astro workout — gleaned from learned tomes such as The 1688 Cyclopaedia of Starres, Philomena Schwimmer’s 1967 classic “Astrology for Liberated Californian Catholics”, an’ anythin’ written by Bethany Wiccasplatz before she denounced Eminem as a reincarnated poodle an’ abandoned astrology for marketin’ her own piss as a sleep sedative — weeeeell, you mebbe gotta figure alla the dead astro people we got floatin’ around in the Afterlife ain’t gonna be too pleased we can’t show ‘em sumthin’ noo.

Plus also, they are such cunts.

Aries simply ain’t interested what we all doin’.

Taurus prolly bringin’ herself off on a cloud sumplace.

Gemini seen it all before, so no way she gonna waste Eternity watchin’ your stoopid ritual ass.

Cancer don’t gotta care ‘bout nuthin’ no more cos worst case scenario (ie DEATH) already frickin’ happened … so why bother?

Leo gonna be busy performin’ her own song & dance ritual for any angels got the day off from patrollin’ Trump an’ Kimmee the Nooker an’ alla the other warmongerin’ fuckwits on their way upstairs any time now.

An’ do you really want Virgo lookin’ down onya, criticizin’ evry misquoted incantation an’ hollerin’ why you not ironed your damn robes decent, you incompetent slacker?

Afterlife don’t got no Librans in it anyways cos they all cum back down here to Terrorized Firma reincarnated as funky multicolored cephalapods go shimmer shimmer shimmer (it is troo — alla those undersea chameleon kaleidoscopes’re jus’ recycled Librans).

Scorpio is too busy figurin’ ways to escape so they can get reborn an’ re-establish their traditionally mysterious relationship with DEATH spooks ‘em out in ways that are familiar.

Sagittarius is bringin’ herself off on a cloud, same as Taurus, only she is hidin’ away on an adjacent cloud, gettin’ a real big hit offa watchin’ Ms Bovine Butt quiver slow an’ juicy.

Capricorn gonna be checkin’ the Autumn Equinox Rituals library an’ makin’ sure alla the killer secrets remain under wraps — ‘part from a coupla core inscriptions an’ sigils only she can interpret.

Aquarius is sellin’ finger spinners an’ savin’ for a way stoopid hairdo.

An’ Pisces mebbe gonna be makin’ the final touches to a dream she had ‘bout writin’ a steamy romance novel … “someday”.

So, please — do not even try to impress these useless fuckers!

They do not care.

Autumn Equinox Rituals — Your Day To Go Play In A Generous Cosmos

Wanna pick up here on sum themes I wrote out for the Spring Equinox — my 5-step Spring Fever Cures All plan.

If I’m honest, I actschwlly wanna jus’ repackage that old content an’ spare myself wastin’ valuable weekend FUN TIME writin’ out sumthin’ noo an’ specific, but I trooly only want the best for you guys … so that’s what I’m gonna do.

Autumn … Spring … hey — who fuckin’ cares?

Main deal is, life is kinda short (an’ I made that point HERE back starta Noo Year when the Reaper took holda 2016’s balls an’ scythed ‘em from reality in a manner most mortal an’ genuinely kinda cinematically propulsive), an’ we gotta squeeze alla the yummiest juice outta shit whenever it swells up with goodness before us.

Back in Spring, I set out a motivational action plan for boostin’ five key elementsa evryone’s lives.

Here’s what I hit on…

Body

Mind

Spirit

Mojo

Drive

(I know — original af.)

An’ I would now wanna suggest how any Autumn Equinox ritual you wanna figure — trad-packed to nowsumly spunky & buzzin’ — gotta fix on these essential considerations.

You want I take ‘em one at a time?

K, here goes…

Practical Autumn Equinox Rituals Theme #1 — Your Body

It is temptin’ to throw on a whole buncha uncomfortable robes an’ duct tape sum antlers to your head … but tbh, yoga pants an’ a T’re jus’ fine.

You got sumplace cosy an’ private, get naked FFS.

Point is, you wanna be comfy, relaxed — an’ healthy.

So ease back on chocolate, narcotics, an’ alcohol excesses from mebbe Toosday, do sum Yoga or sports, an’ address all bodily hair issues.

Tellya, Equinox drops, she won’t wanna see her diligent devotees sportin’ last month’s dishevelled hairdo, next month’s armpit-fluff-to-be, or any kinda Unkempt Pubo Emergency situation.

All transformations got a deeply sensyool component an’ so mucha astrology fixes on how we feel, so whatever your ritual (an’ this is especially troo for anyone plannin’ to go trad an’ invest in summa them $50 Astro Antlers they got on special offer in Wal-Mart), stay focused on your body an’ show compassion for any feelings flow on out.

Serene reflection to capes an’ candles to makin’ with the solo masturbationals, Autumn Equinox says you gotta relax all chillsum an’ be super comfy inya beautyflesh.

Practical Autumn Equinox Rituals Theme #2 — Your Mind

This Autumn Equinox moment is about eternal change.

Year on year we get Summer switchin’ out to Autumn, but back in the day, people had way different ideas ‘bout shit than we got now.

Their thoughts reflected their times, an’ their reactions to those thoughts betrayed their mortal vulnerability.

So the world is as it is rn, an’ prolly you can’t change much ‘bout that.

An’ your life is how it is rn, an’ … mebbe you got more options for transformation gowin’ down here.

Gotta listen out for that — the bittersweet discourse gowin’ down in your personal space, day to day, week to week.

See, cos there’re changes comin’, a whole world spinnin’ beyond your control.

But you got motivational action power over evrythin’ you do, an’ alla that begins withya ideas an’ dreams an’ desires.

Plz be sure to figure summa that inya ritual — pay special heed to the moment as it plays out in alla that neurocerebral schwango you call thinkin’.

Practical Autumn Equinox Rituals Theme #3 — Your Spirit

If we gonna be super scientific, we gotta conclude how Spirit got sumthin’ more dinkily YOU ‘bout it than either Body or Mind.

Flop a boobie out, take holda your dick — you got a beautiful chunka YOU there, but evrythin’ ‘bout alla that wibbloflesh been parta sumthin’ else in the past.

Before alla those shaft molecules an’ nippo atoms got to be orbitin’ Locus You … kinda like the planets orbitin’ the Sun … they was mebbe parta sumone else’s dick or boobies.

Mebbe they was gorilla boobies … or ant stomach … or jus’ a lonely boulder way down bottom in sum prehistoric lagoon.

An’ alla them thoughts you got, inextricably bound to your recycled boobie body — they really YOURS?

Tellya, you been on Twitter, Tumblr or Buzzfeed in the las’ 20 minutes, likely your head gonna be fulla asshole memes, fake nooz, an’ a whole buncha other garbage routinely clogs up an’ sullies hoomanity’s Mutually Shared Cerebellosphere like alla that crappy plastic we now got swillin’ round our oceans an’ fuckin’ on fishykind.

So you gotta set aside a space, apart from Body an’ Mind, that more trooly shimmers benign an’ beautysum with your SPIRIT.

Ain’t gonna presoom to tellya what this is — you alone got privileged access, always — but whileya are cavortin’ about the place as the Equinox drops (adherin’ to proscribed trad antlercraft or bustin’ out on your own unique ticket), please wanna be aware that you persist an’ exist beyond mortal boobiedinkies an’ anythin’ you may be thinkin’.

Spirit don’t sound like no tangible entity, but when super signiffo astro events like Equinoxes play out (an’ remember, such times are so signiffo, they matter to astro skeptics also) you got sumthin’ you can touch on that is neither Body nor Mind.

Plan to see this, discover what you got.

Practical Autumn Equinox Rituals Theme #4 — Your Mojo

Tellya, one meme we got doin’ the Shared Cerebellular Rot rounds is alla that stuff ‘bout 90%a our problems bein’ cozza our POV.

More specifically, it says how shit happens, but the worst kinda shit follows from our unhelpful reaction.

I would wanna quibble the exact 90%, an’ I got issues also with sweepin’ motivational mantras an’ ideas can read kinda weird ifya play around with the context … so like this sentiment could figure as a cool way for a super rich elite to oppress a poor or enslaved underclass … but I figure Mojo is essentially self-created.

Mojo is mebbe a stance toward reality you gonna adopt — a positive outlook got no negative opposite.

It is either there to sum degree … or it ain’t.

Tbh, whatever your view on the Equinox, its essential theme is TIME PASSES.

That means (d’oh) it reminds us how all life got a narrative — past, present an’ fyooture.

You gonna gaze into the fyooture, you mebbe gotta take a positive stance (an’ I would want alla the recent Virgo vibe to have primed evryone to fix on sum practical action plans like I mentioned recently on my Tumblr Blaaahg).

So, again, I really don’t give no fuckin’ shit ‘bout howya celebrate the Equinox, but ifya are botherin’ with any kinda ritual at all, you are locatin’ an’ intention or wish an’ schloppin’ it in a frame as the past gives way to the fyooture.

Mojo is the wish goes in your frame, an’ you gotta take a positive stance toward what you expect from yourself in the comin’ months — despite evrythin’ I said about frickin’ Christmas.

Practical Autumn Equinox Rituals Theme #5 — Your Drive

Ha!

The more I think about it, the more I recall wantin’ to be thorough when I wrote out my original Spring Fever Cures All plan last Equinox.

Jus’ offerin’ four suggestions seemed kinda stingy, so I threw in sumthin’ extra to round my Super Wise Counsel package up to five.

As it turned out I figure I made a useful distinction between two things mebbe perceived often as the same.

After all, what is Mojo if not Drive?

Weeeeeell … I would wanna consider how Mojo is kinda proto-potential.

It is the energy waitin’ to burst out in a thunderclap, the lava swillin’ round in a volcano before it cums.

Gotta figure with any Autumn Equinox ritual howya are wantin’ to identify an’ refine your magical energies an’ pay heed to other forces playin’ out in the world.

Body, Mind an’ Spirit toonsya in, Mojo firesya up — but what fuckin’ happens next?

See, cos we are nearin’ the enda the ritual here — that moment whenya set gratuitous astrology down an’ go back to your job in the bar as a flirty Gemini, back to your college class as a kickass Virgo … back to your regular Aries-to-Pisces deal, whatever that be.

Ritual don’t change nuthin’ for whenya step out from her confines, what is the fuckin’ point?

So, antlers or no, you gotta invite the potential for change an’ subsequent noo action … so you can walk outta your ritual space renewed an’ replenished.

Wanna thinka this right from the start … an’ the start begins NOW as the Equinox looms, heralded but as yet unborn.

Wanna be changed so your energy got new flow.

Wanna touch on your people with refined an’ re-energized heart.

That is what I am gonna do.

Ain’t decided yet my exact planna action — antlers, Wiccasplatz or chocolate dildo — but I am thinkin’ ‘bout it all now, seekin’ for noo life an’ energy, wantin’ for my super-yet-to-happen Saturday self to be changed for the better by the Equinox (an’ my reflections thereupon) in ways I can experience troothfully, articulate accurately, an’ act on with verve an’ spunko.

Autumn Equinox Rituals — Concludin’ Comments

So, thereya go — a monster practical Autumn Equinox Rituals HOW TO blaaahg post don’t actually tellya what to frickin’ do!

Tellya, Zodiac Cops gonna shoot the butt offa my ass, they find out.

But like I said right at the start, you got opportoonity to bring your unique potentials an’ desires to bear upon a unique astrological phenomenon: Autumn Equinox, 2017-style.

Jus’ cos we know so much about what is comin’, just cos the Afterlife is fulla floaty Zodiac beings handed down tradition ‘pon tradition, don’t mean you gotta play along with anya that schwango.

Be yourself, make your own day … an’ FFS play it how you wanna.

But mebbe spare sum thought for Body, Mind, Spirit, Mojo & Drive, huh?

Title Image c/o Pablo Basagoiti @Unsplash

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<span class="sdata" title="24"></span> <span class="sdata" title="07, 2017"></span>

5 Reasons Why Leo Types Are Walkin’ Motivation GIFs

By |<span class="sdata2" title="2018-07-19T12:45:20+00:00"></span>|Creativity, Leo, Motivation, Practical Astrology|0 Comments

5 REASONS WHY LEO TYPES ARE WALKIN’ MOTIVATION GIFs

& How YOU Can Cruise Along In The Slipstream!

Leo got creative heart in frickin’ abundance, tellya.

An’ in our self-improvin’ Noo Millennial times, anyone smart can look in on what Leo got … an’ take summa that pulsatin’ lifeforce, make it their own.

Gonna showya how YOU TOO can pull on plenty progenerative Leonine majesty — an’ transform from Lame Loser to Walkin’ Motivation GIFs Triumph Person.

(If’n you are Leo anyways, or ifya got Leo stackin’ up the glam power sumplace else inya chart, my wise astro counsel gonna count DOUBLE, K?)

Walkin’ Motivation GIFs — The LEO Essence

Gotta figure sum people landed here cozza motivation ‘steada astrology.

Personally, I do not believe in an uncosy Venn Diagram arrangement says the two are separate.

But anyways, ifya are thinkin’ FFS what am I doing on a lame-ass astrology website??,  jus’ pretendya are a heretic attendin’ a friend’s funeral.

Religious hymn shows, you sing along, right?

Don’t have to believe a word to feel alla the pain.

So here’s how the Leo essence plays, super synopsis style…

Positive deal, Leo combines abundant creativity with abundant generosity.

Leo is courageous, Leo is glam, Leo is warm.

Problem is, you don’t say thanks … an’ really mean it … or ifya call out their gifts or diss their effortlessly persuasive acumen — that is when the big bad cat takes over.

Aggressive, pouty, real hurt.

Real fuckin’ dangerous.

Course, there’s more to Leos than this, but ifya are determined to max out on becomin’ a walkin’ motivation GIF, we gotta start sumplace.

Cool thing is — that sumplace is YOU.

Walkin’ Motivation GIFs Hot Tip #1 —

It’s All About YOU

Wanna look outsideya self for motivation?

Uhm … that is called inspiration, sweetie.

Go check the dictionary — inspiration is about intake.

Converso-flippo, the motivation stuffs are all insideya.

They are there whenya wake up, there whenya go to sleep, there evry timeya take a pee.

Don’t wanna get too lost off on AI imagry here, but ifya thinka yourself as a ROBOT for a sec, mebbe sum basic apartment cleanin’ droid, then askya self what is goin’ down in that tin can’s program?

How in heck does he hoover the carpet, tweezer fluff outta hidey holes, or wash dishes without sum kinda activatin’ direction?

So, listen — you want motivation, you got it.

It ain’t noplace other than YOU.

So quit lookin’ around tryin’ to find the fucker under a rock, K?

Wastea. Your. Time.

Walkin’ Motivation GIFs Hot Tip #2 —

It’s All About COURAGE

Again, we gotta be specific.

Courage don’t always mean leapin’ offa tall buildings an’ battlin’ armored reptilian hordes with sum dinky katana/whip combo.

Sumtimes it jus’ means facin’ the music.

An’ that is what Leo does so good.

She says This is Me, This is What I Got — For sure I am gonna use it an’ make shit roll.

See, cos when I mentioned earlier how Leo got creative energies in abundance, mebbe you made the one critical mistake a whole lotta people make when they hear that.

Mebbe you thought — yeah, Leo has MORE of that creative energy stuff than me.

But what if they actschly got less than you?

Less soulful Self Power?

Jus’ a tiny flickerin’ flame?

I ain’t no mathematician, but I figure anyone got courage to embrace what they got insidea ‘em, an’ accept their gifts an’ talents for what they are, prolly they got more motivational clout than a supersavant genius wastes their life lookin’ under rocks an’ readin’ inspirational literature, desperately seeking “themself” — the same self they got with ‘em evry time they fuckin’ pee.

So — go faceya own music, K?

Lap it up, whatever its seemin’ discord an’ bum notes … an’ however hard that process may be.

Walkin’ Motivation GIFs Hot Tip #3 —

It’s All About GENEROSITY

You playin’ along with Moi so far, prolly you might feel a huuuuuuuum from deep inside right now.

Motivation is there, motivation is insideya, motivation wants sumthin’ to happen.

Gotta figure how mebbe the processa happnin’ stuff is a kinda alchemical reaction.

You takes a buncha motivation stuffs, you makes with the alchemical wuzza-wuzza — an’ future inspiration froths up outta the frickin’ cauldron.

So, yeah, course we all want self-perpetuatin’ motivation, like quittin’ tobacco (if’n ya pseudo-robotically wanna) or ditchin’ the cellulite (if’n you pseudo-robotically needta), butchya gotta watch out for the closed loop.

Gotta rememberya Greek mythology here — the Aeneasella the Frog Queen fable…

Aeneasella sits on a rock all day, catchin’ flies.

Kinda like Narcissus, she is self-obsessed.

Farther she can throw out her tongue, the more flies she catches — an’ natchrly, she becomes quite a spectacle.

Attention kinda goes to her head.

An’ this is where the Narcissus deal comes in — the kinda vanity sumtimes manifests when Leo turns inward on self self self an’ omitsta make all generous with the music insidea her she seen an’ faced.

At this point, prolly Aeneasella shoulda said, “thanks for the applause — hey, why don’t I try throwing my tongue out even farther? More flies I get, more food we got for everyone.”

But Aeneasella was not generous.

She kept her motivation to herself, an’ this is how inspirational her gifts an’ her story got to be…

Oh, see — cos she flung out her tongue farther an’ farther, an’ she got fatter an’ fatter an’ fatter, an’ the applause turned to gasps … an’ screams of abject terror … till finally Aeneasella flung her tongue out SO FAR her fuckin’ asshole tugged up hard from behind her an’ ripped her bloated froggy body inside out.

So — you got motivation gowin’ down, go share it out, K?

Walkin’ Motivation GIFs Hot Tip #4 —

It’s All About SHOWTIME

Wanna know what is so lame ‘bout life on Earth?

Mosta the time, it is a writhin’, creepin’, pulsatin’ shit-fest.

You got maggots squirmin’ round insidea dead rats, ants crawlin’ all over one another in a subterranean hellhole — an’ alla that weirdsy semi-transparent deep sea schwango flibble flobblin’ around on the ocean bed.

Sheeeesh! Look away NOW!

But ifya got some creative offerya motivated up real brave from outtaya own discordant music stuffs, FFS you gotta put on a show.

Tellya, theater is an illoominatin’ superwindow on reality.

You got nuthin’ much different from reality on show there through her window, but she is choosy an’ calculatin’ with her message — an’ she transforms otherwise evryday maggotyness into spectacle.

Leo is showy, flamboyant, mebbe even the worst kinda vanity-snortin’ asshole, but the essential deal gowin’ on here is elevation.

Gotta figure a king or queen got sumthin’ real smart to say about elevation!

Always, there is a level higher to be reached, a bigger platform upon which to stage ideas or motivation-derived products — be they poems or songs or apartment cleanin’ robots with pulse-action dusters bustin’ outta their dicks.

Coolest thing about hoomans is … we ain’t fuckin’ maggots.

An’ what our motivation brings to bear upon the world don’t gotta be no lacklustre vanilla.

Otherwise, what is the fuckin’ point?

Walkin’ Motivation GIFs Hot Tip #5 —

It’s All About PRIDE

Do sumthin’ smart, you gotta own it.

Do sumthin’ takes allya got — courage to see it, courage to deliver it — you gotta own it.

Do sumthin’ transforms the livesa others for the super positive whenya are generous an’ give it away — you gotta own it.

Do sumthin’ people remember … cosya lifted ‘um up sum — you gotta own it.

An’ why so?

To guarantee your place toppa the cheesey smiley Sun Shines Outta My Frickin’ Ass leaderboard?

Hell, no — cos that ain’t pride, that is hoobris.

Gotta remember the whole pointa motivation is how it is not 100% reliable or successful.

Not evrythin’ gonna work out.

Do sumthin’ dumb, you gotta own it.

Do sumthin’ takes allya got — courage to see it, courage to deliver it — an’ it BOMBS — you gotta own it.

Do sumthin’ impacts not so good on the livesa others for super stoopids whenya are generous an’ give it away after it all looked real neat on paper — you gotta own it.

Do sumthin’ people remember … cos they mockya for it relentlessly — you gotta own it.

That is a hard kinda pride, but without it, prolly you gonna spendya life at the mercya forces you cannot control.

Hey, so when you done sum good an’ took a real shot at bustin’ out on positive zeal, gotta giveya self credit, K?

Show don’t last forever, an’ too many people either can’t or won’t contribute positively.

So take heart an’ contribute positively.

Motivation is all about YOU — reasonya heart beats.

Motivation is all about COURAGE — gotta have heart to faceya own music.

Motivation is all about GENEROSITY — gotta have heart to go dish the bounty.

Motivation is all about SHOWTIME — gotta have heart to elevate vanilla to spectacle.

Motivation is all about PRIDE — gotta have heart to own your shit, good or down the frickin’ pan.

Walkin’ Motivation GIFs — Go Step Out & Be One

You feel it now?

That boom boom boom thingya got gowin’ down deep inside — even more regular than takin a pee?

Then, hey — whatchya fuckin’ around here for?

Go join alla the other walkin’ motivation GIFs captivatin’ attention in the writhin’ maggot panorama.

Go make like a LEO.

Ifya have enjoyed this article, an’ the insanely positive vibe it thrusts beforeya, you might wanna look in at more motivation stuffs I got — like my take on 2018 or this practical mindfulness exercise for Fire Signs. If, however, you jus’ want THE TITTIES — then go HERE.

Title Image c/o Plasterbrain @Pixabay

Spread the love, slip in the bookmark, mix up the linky.

<span class="sdata" title="10"></span> <span class="sdata" title="07, 2017"></span>

Sagittarian Firepower

By |<span class="sdata2" title="2018-06-28T12:31:34+00:00"></span>|Creativity, Fire Signs, Initiative, Motivation, Practical Astrology, Sagittarius|0 Comments

SAGITTARIAN FIREPOWER

Wanna talk longbows an’ crossbows withya, kinda Sagittarian Firepower.

I got no agenda here especially — this is jus’ horsey gal frankness shootin’ off into the Void in hopea sparkin’ up maxo fyooture swankospankiness as tippa bolt mebbe grazes twinklea star.

Intrested? Prolly You Should Leave Now If’n You Ain’t.

Thing is, I love how those Medieval guys travelled far an’ wide for the best materials they could find, hackin’ down trees, beatin’ off wolves, forgin’ stuff outta iron — an’ battlin’ with occasional dragons the sizea frickin’ asteroids.

(An’ before anya you Virgo types haul me up by my historicals, I am not tryin’ to pull a simultaneously existent hoomans an’ dinosaurs trip here with longbows an’ crossbows in the contexta the entire Medieval epoch — so SIT DOWN, willya?)

Gotta figure life was tough before the Rennayesance.

Mosta what we noo millennium dwellers would consider to be our lifetime was, for those guys, merely an opportoonity to jump on death’s bandwagon via the mediuma crappo healthcare, unrestrained plague bugs, an’ fearful overlords overdosin’on the adrenalin-pumped sugar rush comes with slashin’ to pieces friend an’ foe alike with blades humongo enough to fell Redwoods.

Sum lousy Dear Diary that all was.

(Tellya, back then they got outta control scabrousness an’ infections, zero experiencea nachos, an’ undergarments gonna shrivel desire along withya tinglydanglies. Pas pour Moi!)

I guess the only thing stoppin’ evryone from weepin’ at the thought that mebbe the fyooture was gonna get way brighter one day after their short an’ miserable lives had counted for nuthin’ (an’ what losers they were for bein’ born into the wrong epoch etc etc) was the even more disturbin’ thought that their miserable plight was gonna prevail for all eternity.

Prolly the only thing made life viable was shootin’ sum deer or frickin’ duck an’ gatherin’ round the fire to chomp ‘pon sinew an’ beak, blissfully ignoranta chipotle reflux burpo.

Anyways, to hell with alla that.

This is an astrology website, not sum academic discourse ‘bout the rights an’ wrongs of what a buncha dentally challenged & hierarchically enslaved freakos believed was true in the Darkest of Ages.

So we gotta wonder, dear reader, when it comes to expectations ‘boutya present moment history-in-the-makin’ — areya fated to be a loser for the resta your life?

Is your evry atomic particle cast from the driven madness of sum impendin’ Apocalypse?

Or does spinna planets, dancea celestial orbs, got effortlessnessa mutability you can reach out an’ cup inya hand — an’ abuse to your advantage?

I would wantcha to think for a moment ‘bout pluckin’ sum dream outta the sky asya stand before the heavens in alla your beautyflesh.

An’ cos we’re talkin’ missile weapons here, what better waya figurin’ the small detaila nailin’ distant objects than by meansa a super pointy arrow, lined up an’ fired true by your own hand-eye-butt buncha physioselfstuffs.

So C’mon — Up On Your Feet, You Lazy Sucker! Get Ready For Sum Sagittarian Firepower!

This is where we get all interactive, kinda virtual VR, an’ turn slacker generation webfodder inertiatox into aerobic exercise gonna saveya when zombie mutants rise upta huntya down, fat frickin’ snowflake ass first.

Cos you got your bow withya, right?

Here all along, andya know it — jus’ mebbe never brandished its transmutational ballistics with sufficient bravado before.

So, gowan, twang the string, hear it ker-ping — like Ed Sheeran pluckin’ a pubo d’Or outta his ass to clear a path for the sun’s rays.

Feel the smooth curvesa the limb pullin’ tight on the string, let ‘em ooze out beneath your fingertips asya reach over your shoulder to your quiver.

[Optional Side Quest — you got sum fancy elven cape drapin’ offaya, its fine tassles ticklin’ the backsa your knees.]

Arrow got tightest feathers, essencea silk an’ daggers, so go draw it outta your quiver, slow an’ neat, hear it hiss a valiant farewell to its fellows as its tip pulls back gentle over their shafts.

Then knock it, ready to fire.

*scowls*

FFS put your frickin’ phone down an’ do this PROPER, OK?

Howya gonna focus with that stoopid thing pumpin’ crap inya frickin’ face like sum ditzo teen driver rammin’ the ass offa the rear fendersa the planet?

So, yeah, lose the phone, feel the bow, (an’ the optional cape an’ bandana … did I mention the bandana?), knock the arrow an’ —

Waitaminute. We forgot sumthin’. Sumthin’ real important.

Kinda got lost off here in the sensual glowa the physical, forgettin’ you gonna shoot this arrowa yours off sumplace an’ thus require full functionalitya your cerebellular area.

So, hey — where an’ what is the target?

I dunno whereya are right now, standin’ proud as fuck withya illusory weapon shimmerin’ inya hand — mebbe your favo room, your garden, or a coffee shop fulla people wondrin’ what in hell you’re doin’ — but we gotta getcha sum pointa focus.

Sum sweet spot jus’ outta reach.

Cos what is the pointa firin’ off imaginary arrows at stuffya already got?

Those things ain’t targets, they’re possessions.

An’ when I say outta reach, I’m talkin’ beyond all sensation — kinda further out than your eyeballs can see (both your bodily balls an’ their internal an’ imaginary-asya-bow “mind’s eye” braino versions).

See, pick out sum distant target you can see, an’ in termsa sensibility it kinda becomes as mucha a possession as the groundya got to stand on, the tangibly unevident bowya got inya hand, an’ anythin’ you can name (even if it is sum made-up word like summa the schwango I regularly drop as surprises on Google jus’ for kicks).

You could aim for that kinda stuff, but pointa the exercise is to makeya look frickin’ stoopid to question what it meansta have a target to aim at, an’ how your place in time an’ space, allied to the stanceya take to alla that, kinda determines what targets — viewa what targets — gonna be possible forya.

Cos unless those Medieval guys had done whatever it is that they did when stuff looked as bad as it was, we would alla us still be firin’ off missiles at frickin’ ducks, bleedin’ our diseased innards outta our thrush-cacked twennysumthin’ assholes, an’ dyin’ early before we had the luxurya experiencin’ Alzheimer’s or liver rot from decadesa alcohol abuse.

Wherein, quirka fate, lyethya twist?

So Let’s Get Serious With The Filosophical Aspecta Sagittarian Firepower, Huh?

Hmmm. Prolly you can putchya bow down for a sec an’ giveya arm a rest while we muse on this diresta conundrums — together, as a brain-bustingly enlightened symbiotic phenomenon.

Thing is — what you gonna do right now to make the fyooture diffrent?

(An’ for full effect, you prolly gotta thinka yourself as a flea-nibbled, urine-stinky, toothless, scab-encrapped, coughin’, wheezin’snotballa Dark Ages serfjunk, your shit-starched wooden undergarments bulgin’ their codpiece pride thanksta a pulsatin’ swampa genital bugs writhin’ all overya dick an’ cunnyhole on the exponentially progenerative frickin’ rampage.)

C’mon — you got your bow an’ arrow ready, an’ then some stoopid bunny rabbit jus’ hopped inta view (cos the people in your hamlet backwater shot alla the ducks) — so what you gonna do to impact on the fyooture?

Or is your fate all down to the randomly happ’nin’ lapin?

She hops into your experienced reality on sum booby doo hopsy skipsy trip, an’ your every wishawhim orbits her buncannily beguilin’ presence cos any initiativeya got for doin’ sumthin’ else been hijacked?

In which case, what has the bunny got in its Life Direction locker over your haplessly incontrovertible defaulteeism?

What is the difference between your opportoonity either to procreatively impact on the world or haplessly react to it … an’ the correspondin’ buncha potentials an’ circumstances Cap’n Flopsy Wopsypants got?

Cos you can only aimya arrow at what is out there, an’ what is out there is the only possible target forya arrow, right?

*FFS … c’mon…*

For progress gonna blitz the crabfest outtaya pants an’ shine upya teeth to beam with glee, sumhow you gotta see beyond all possibly available targets.

We have those already; they are here.

Sure, gonna take time to figure ‘em out — fix up the right kinda bow an’ train up the stamina an’ skill to wield her — but what are we sposeta do while alla that is playin’ out?

Sit idle?

Wait for the magica illoominated solutions to roll out when they are fully cooked an’ resoom all speculation only when we taste for seasonin’?

Let’s Rev Up The Sagittarian Firepower An’ Quit Bein’ Assholes

You are Eye, an’ you are Flesh, an’ you are Heart.

Gotta start out with Eye, cos all things sensible are fulla holes, an’ trooly it is the infinite space between shit whereya gotta do sum aimin’.

Monster frickin’ expansea quasi-vapor we got between the Sun an’ the Earth is kinda the reason why alla us are here.

That buncha zilcho is real important in the relationship between alla the non-zilcho, tellya.

Place two non-zilcho tangibles together — coupla possessions mebbeya already got — an’ sumthin’ squirts up from outta the ZilchoVoid an’ glistens between ‘em like the semena invention.

Evry couplin’ suggests multiple links, bonds or potentially conjoinin’ forces — nonea which exists sufficiently to be perceived prior to the union.

Oh, but beforeya amygdala does an Alien-from-outtaya-stomach downya throat kinda panic thing cosya are thinkin’ what in fuck is this ditzo astrologer dribblin’ on about?, jus’ gotta reassureya that ifya are in a coffee shop … on the metro or in the mall … nonea the dangerous shit I mentioned earlier involves semen; I am nuthin’ if not a firm believer in a lacka gloopy ickyness in public places.

Semen here is jus’ a metaphor.

Prolly best to thinka sumthin’ else sparkly an’ silvery, like mebbe the stars I mentioned, starta this article — the ones mebbe tippa your arrow gonna graze as it flies between ‘em into a ZilchoVoid gotta be filled with sumthin’ cos its essence is onea betwixtiture as suggested by any coupla starsya choose.

Or any coupla anythin’.

So, up onya feet withya bow, an’ … name two thingsya see — NOW!

Call em’ out, possess their evidence, jus’ like sum rabbit boobled out in frontaya stinky pant pilea Medieval serfjunk.

Whateverya got right now — call it out.

Beard guy! Coffee cup! Pajamas! Rain! Tarantula! Bikini! Gimpo espedrilles!

Hell, I dunno — whateverya got inya life right this moment NOW!

Not my place to conjecture thatya are a seriously weird fucker!

Sagittarian Firepower says target is there in the interplay between those two thingsya got, the suggestions come pourin’ outta jus’ movin’ ‘em up close for scrutiny … or aim … an’ the closerya fit your coupla stuffs together, the more you gonna see shape an’ form grow outta the ZilchoVoid so’s you can figure on its potentially transformative an’ illusory &ness.

But DO NOT FIRE OFF YET, do not be impulsive.

Wieldin’ that bowa yours gonna take sum physical aptitood.

You are Eye, an’ you are Flesh, an’ you are Heart, remember?

See, I know whatya jus’ did, anyaya played along an’ psyched upta take a pop at that spaceya jus’ opened up outta the ZilchoVoid got sumthin’ there — paintin’-cum-book, hatdude-cum-sneaker, pillow-cum-zombie (fuuuuuuuck! It has begun!) — I saw howya movedta act.

But I wanna pullya up on sumthin’.

Bow weighs less than air, so whydya lean back?

Gotta stay upright, gotta stay on your feet.

Bein’ formeda momentary confluxstuffs, target ain’t truly fixed — an’ neither are you.

So quit leanin’ back an’ lockin’ your legs all stiffo.

Keep sum fluid inya knees an’ thinka firin’ offya arrow like sum dancer switchin’ dynamic form as she balances from perky stance to perky stance.

Cos that is kinda what the planets’re doin’ — exhibitin’ fluidity an’ explorin’ the space they got between ‘em.

Tellya, I love watchin’ animated modelsa the solar system, seein’ grace plucked outta the random on an Earth-sustainin’ swirl.

Nuthin’ is static here, nothin’ trooly stops, an’ the only genuine freezeya got is mebbe sumthin’ like Neptoon, cos partsa her ass’re like minus a zillion degrees, which in layman’s terms means she gonna freezeya frickin’ tits off.

Point is, do not fix to fireya imaginary bow.

Strain gonna meanya mebbe miss the target, an’ thenya gonna be real pissed off, mebbe give up.

Vision, strength an’ flexibility — those’re 2 outta your 3 Sagittarian Firepower essentials.

So gowan, stay loose, an’ loose your arrow.

Fwoooooooooooooooooooooooossshhhh!

Returnin’ to the stoopid rabbit in the Medieval village packin’ full-on gonorrhea, gotta figure what happens afterya pluck sublime novelty from outta the ZilchoVoid.

This a bunny worth eatin’?

Or didya jus’ target a dud?

Truth is, not evrythin’ gonna be anythin’ cos, hey — why should it?

Mebbe that buncha confluxstuffya jus’ nailed withya arrow is kinda dumb or lame.

An’ mebbe you even tried this coupla times now, same effect.

*scowl* *pout* *poopy pants*

But this is where Heart figures in the Sagittarian Firepower deal, cosya must not be discouraged — even ifya fire off all frickin’ day for sweet FA.

Thing is, you don’t pick up the bow, an’ you don’t get nuthin’.

Keep searchin’, keep onya feet an’ firin’ off, for sure you gonna land sumthin’, sumtime.

An’ ifya can keep gowin’, lame after lame after lame after useless fuckin’ loser asshole lame, pretty soon you gonna hit on sumthin’ real special.

It is true that occasionally ideas hitya “outta the blue”, but most times your role in this process is kinda passive — havin’ done sum thinkin’, you are an enlightened recipienta subsequent fruits.

Up onya feet with a bow, actively nailin’ phantasms from outta the ZilchoVoid in real time, you switch out from bein’ Passive-reflective Person to Procreatively Entreprenoorial Colossus.

I dunno, sumthin’ ‘bout bein’ a colossus kinda levelsya up, an’ makin’ with the lame don’t happen so often.

Weird, butchya get kinda choosier ‘bout alla the nuthin’.

Good stuff kinda jus’ starts stackin’ up.

An’ whenya piled up a whole buncha phantasmal treasures, wrested from beyond immediately tangible targets, mebbe thenya gotta figure the final parta the Sagittarian Firepower deal.

Question is, how may times d’ya think those pus-orificed & toothless Medieval bow guys struck out into the forest huntin’ for bunnies … an’ kept alla the bunny meat for themselves?

As in they shot a bunny, cooked the fucker all secret behind a tree, then consoomed it all alone with a special knife an’ fork they knitted outta reeds an’ hid in their boots?

I would so that, for sure.

Easier with, I dunno, sum … sandwich — sumthin’ don’t need cookin’.

Yeah, I guess those bow guys pulled that stunt a few times.

But not always, an’ not forever.

They do that, they transform into the useless bow guy always comes back with fuckin’ nuthin’.

Actschly, lemme rephrase that.

They transform into the useless — an’ uncannily overweight for sumone hangin’ out in the scabrousness-friendly Medieval epoch — bow guy always comes back with fuckin’ nuthin’.

An’ who wants a cunt like that on their team?

So, hey, gonna pluck stuff outta nuthin’ withya bow, gotta figure this is shitya gotta hand out to folks don’t got nonea it.

Fuck bein’ selfish — momentya see the kinda stuff that is trooly out there, the moreya see mosta it is stuffya bring back.

Perhaps it is my own weird thing, I dunno, but I got sumthin’ for people walk out to the edgea the Void an’ return with bounty gonna rev the show up sum.

I would be mortified to sack essencea angels only to return home an’ mount it on my livin’ room wall in a bottle.

Heart to go seek, heart to share.

Otherwise what is gowin’ on?

The hooman race strides forward for all eternity, packin’ the same rottin’ teeth, plague-ravaged bodies an’ genitalia awash with acrobatic crab fountains?

Or the same thing happens, minus a few selfish fuckers locked inside their bunkers oglin’ treasures whose value they cannot ever understand…?

Title Image c/o RoyalHoliday @Morguefile

(Strictly speakin’, archer gal should have the full Sagittarian horsey ass deal gowin’ on,

but I picked her cos she got real perky boobies an’ the kinda meaty thighs

I would wanna see standin’ their ground whenever cool shit is flyin’ off..)

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<span class="sdata" title="4"></span> <span class="sdata" title="06, 2017"></span>

Foretellismo

By |<span class="sdata2" title="2018-06-26T11:30:21+00:00"></span>|Choice, Creativity, Motivation, Resolution, Uncategorized|0 Comments

FORETELLISMO

Storytellin’ is written inta the fabrica the Cosmos.

Always was (cos we got here to now — mostly in the kinda historical costoomsya see in the movies), an’ always will be (less’n we are frickin’ stoopid ‘bout narrative in super general an’ drop THE END before THE CLIMAX in the forma A NUKE).

Truth is, nuthin’ moves without generatin’ narrative.

Jus’ lickya lips for a sec, test this one out.

Feel them luscious lipsya got onya?

Coolest reality check I can muster, tellya — an’ now we gonna figure out what this all means … together.

Now?

Yup.

Way I see it, you got a whole buncha saliva in that speakyplacea yours.

Feel it?

You got inside an’ outside surfaceaya lips, tongue ridged an’ furrowed with innumerable tastetastic sulci — an’ that is beforeya consider any hairsya got fluffin’ offaya face with varyin’ degreesa hirsooteness (or bitsaya dinner caught inya teeth an’ stuff).

Gotta say, I describe this potential mlehfest clear as I can forya — equally imagined (cos I got no clue what fungal mayhemya got gowin’ on backsideaya toothy grin right now) an’ realo (I jus’ ate a banana btw) — an’ I would not wanna presoomya to be no kinda ZOMBIE got no motive sensualityaya own, but FFS you don’t even gotta lick on anythin’ to take in alla the info far as this experiment goes.

You are jus’ kinda there.

Or here.

Or whereverya are.

Truth is, you are a big lumpa YOU-stuffs — drool an’ lips an’ all — occupyin’ time an’ space, fulla potential to make sensea your place in the Cosmos via the mediuma allaya tinglydanglies.

Get To The Point. I Have A Life.

Point is, same kinda “lumpa-stuffs occupyin’ time an’ space” deal extends to alla the planets we got twirlin’ round the Sun alongside our lusho home world.

(Home world is called the Earth, jus’ in caseya never walked across the label.)

See, Joopiter an’ alla his planetary buddies been circlin’ the planet beyond before we hoomans — or even the dinosaurs an’ the amoeboid polypbeests — got to be around, an’ unless sum colossal asteroid comes bowlin’ into our solar system like a viciously spun cue ball, gotta figure the planets gonna roll on in their own sweet way till the enda time.

Science guys can even predict what they gonna do next, zillionsa years inta the fyooture.

Thinka what happens evry month.

Ain’t it jus’ weird how the Huff Post an’ other nooz outlets now regularly feature articles about the Moon alongside alla the usual celebrities behavin’ abominably schwango?

Full, Noo, Harvest, Wolf, Eclipse — there’s always sum loono story gowin’ down.

So much about inanimate objects is predictable — even monsterstuffs like Saturn an’ his zingoringo — but layered on toppa the bleak mathstrophysics is a delicious worlda myth — exotic an’ soulful stories gonna transform barren craters into moist an’ tender eyeballs with POV, persona an’ -morphin’ iris hues.

Neptoon alone could prolly fillya bathtub with luscious liquid legend, dear reader — exotic stories fulla immersive pullin’ power.

From brute gravitation comes allurea narrative, same as when hoomans kiss on one another’s lickyalipsibles after makin’ eyes ‘cross a crowded room.

In planets an’ people you got certainty meets uncertainty, an’ narrative blossoms from this catalytic touch.

Thing is — what happens next ifya are unpredictably vulnerable hooman ‘steada workaday celestial colossus?

Maths guys got the planets down — but what about alla us? What about our stories?

Gotta figure the enda ANY an’ EVRY unfoldin’ story always lies in the fyooture, an’ deep down we want alla the intertwinin’ narrative arcsa our lives to work out good an’ carry our favo ever protagonist an’ alla their buddies forward with heart an’ verve — same as fiery ol’ Mars or cranktasmal Uranus or dreammaculate Venus out there on a spin.

Where the planets got predictability, hoomans desire foretellismo.

Oh, Yeah — I Read That Right At The Start. What In Hell Are You Talking About?

Prolly you should Google it for yourself, but ima helpya out.

Here it is:

foretellismo means astrology beats marketing

Want my opinion?

I got no idea how Google never saw that comin’.

Tellya, algorithms, hardcore math an’ alla that superpredictive schwango got nuthin’ on artful simplicitya hooman creative flux.

We are such cool combiners an’ togetherers, all shadesa invention an’ discovery roll out BEGINNIN’, MIDDLE AN’ ENDIN’ from our interactions in time an’ space with any shit gowin’ down you wanna name.

(An’ btw, dontchya jus’ love how alla the planets got named after ancient gods an’ deified hero types?)

Foretellismo describes sumthin’ we all desire real bad.

It is a waya thinkin’ got more swagger than hollow prediction, more certainty than wild risk — an’ fewer obfuscatin’ cataracts than blind hope.

Consider it a wayta massage the eternal narrativea past, present an’ fyooture — evrythin’ you spun out to this precious heresynowsy moment reimagined beyond the infinite void betweenya story so far an’ the next cool things gonna happen.

Seems evryone craves mastery over that perpetually mutable sweet spot.

Despots, advertisers, fiction writers — an’ all shadesa people with all kindsa ferocious dilemmas who wake each day for wanta mebbe more than 24/7 struttin’ an’ frettin’ on life’s stage.

“Tell me, tell me, please — in my hour of deepest travial, will the choices I make today work out good?

Aw, cos ifya had that kinda punch on reality right now, how smacksyhitsy it would be to romp out on a fyooture got allaya invention-made-flesh flyin’ easy peasy fromya progenerative an’ experiential polyassholes!

Problem is, foretellismo is an illusion.

Fake News? Sorry — I Am Outta Here

Oh, but see — illusions’re powerful an’ super practical architectsa change.

They propel stories forward, fill ’em fulla lush expectationals — like any movie scene got Hugh Jackman stripped to the frickin’ waist.

All stories gotta move on into the unknown or they gonna get borin’.

That is why you never got roundta readin’ that 12,465 page trilogy entitled Night Of The Monk Contemplating Gorgonzola.

Where is the conflict there beyond please, braino — do not force me to pick this loser up an’ read it!

Borin’ is stuck — an’ no one likes the storya stuck if they are not only readin’ it aloud but also livin’ out its life-drainin’ enslavements evry relentlessly samo daya their finite existence.

Foretellismo helpsya form proto-tangible shapes in the Void mebbe you wanna reach for — or aspire to become.

It has illusion. It has sinew. It has benevolent mutability slooshin’ from its DNA.

Costoom foretellismo as astrology, an’ you got an archetypal menagerie gonna harmonize along withya half-formed hopes an’ schemes, its massed growls an’ pincersnaps syncopatin’ withya decisive action — all accompanied by that humma paralyzin’ charm oozes outta Librans when they burst into song in the mall.

Librans! Ha! Tell Me About It!

Way I see it, sumtimes we all need a narrative lift from the communal ether — motivation gonna pull us up outta sum present moment oblivionhole that is not simply BUY OUR PRODUCT! FEEL BETTER INSTANTLY! or GUESS WHAT? DEMOCRACY IS TOAST! or anya those context-unspecific quotationsya see vomited up on FaceBook like headless poultry in needa breast, drumstick an’ downhome seasonin’.

Gal workin’ long hours in sum loser store gonna be eaten by robots, old guy lost his lifelong sweetheart but nonea the memories, entreprenoor takin’ a gamble gonna fix or shaft — gotta figure alla these people are walkin’ stories, fulla love an’ loss, hopes an’ fears, triumphs an’ regrets, strung out sumplace where the fyooture shuffles unnervingly at reality’s edge like sum slumberin’ monster, ever outta reach yet still close enough for unknown talonsta thrash outta the darkness an’ scar with anxiety or fear. Or despair.

Alla these people can (if they wanna) take a dip inta their stars (by which I kinda mean the planets an’ their associated narrative twinklea myth an’ story) an’ divine elemental succor as they float on air, step out on solid ground, light up with inspirational fire, or go kiss on a fluffy hamster got the mange an’ mebbe jus’ an hourta live.

Evryone gotta figure what positive an’ influential stories matter most to them, I guess.

Historically, we gotta figure what dreams an’ illusions have moved most hearts an’ minds sumplace got more benefits for free exercisea hoomanstuffs?

I guess that is why the void between today’s versiona the fyooture an’ alla our stories so far got all kindsa misappropriated archetypes thrashin’ around in its insubstantial ethers like wannabe titanium stranglerats.

Thing is, astrology is instantly quaffable spiritual moonshine, one size fits twelve.

You wanna feel good cos you spent $300 on a noo cell phone gonna pissya off by the enda the week cos it promised INTUITION, DELIVERED TO YOUR FINGERTIPS — an’ then melted?

Or d’ya want that frissona satisfaction comes from havin’ your opinions confirmed by what later turns out to be fake nooz?

Or d’ya wanna mebbe win out cos y’are a Taurus? Dependable an’ true — an’ blessed with consummate donut eatin’ talentsya can synch with ballistic fart techniques in restaurants (with no riska failin’ to receive warm hugs from evryone)?

Truth is, no single life existed since hoomans got to be hoomans that walked the rainbowa sum singularly universal narrative arc.

We are mix an’ match aggregationsa what works — raw materials pulled from the herescape an’ blended all idiosyncratically happenable by our own brainos linkin’ up an’ smoochyin’ on out.

We are blissfully lickable tangible matter blessed with far-reachin’ imagination — if we wanna use it.

Sounds Dinky! Can I Steal That For My LinkedIn Profile Rewrite?

Sure, but for the sakea brevity, you should prolly jus’ write alchemist.

It is cheesy, I know — but what is cheese beyond milk an’ grass an’ cow giblet squirto all blended an’ squishoed together?

Thing is, stars mebbe got an angle onya lifeya can notch inya forwardstuffs bow alongside allaya other existential arrows.

Astrology don’t tell the whole story, but history, culture an’ emergin’ nooz kinda trainedya upta manipulate (an’ respond to) archetypal forces in flux.

Gotta figure nouveau astrology narratives might have a place right now alongside relative noocomers on the storytellin’ block like TV, Digita outta Home, an’ Facebook memes packin’ cat-themed motivational frickin’ mantras.

Antecedentsa this kinda schwango got born when people much like ourselves gathered round fires at deada night an’ entertained one another with stories as they compared rottin’ teeth, flaunted scars long as frickin’ snakes, an’ carbonized wild bunnies (before dyin’ at the ripe old agea 27).

No room for SOAP SO SMOOTH YOU’LL FEEL LIKE A GODDESS or 5 WAYS BECKHAM’S LATEST TATTOO WILL INSPIRE YOUR BATHROOM MAKEOVER there.

We gonna adopt astrology with more passion an’ diligence, we jus’ gotta take care we don’t get too far up our own assholes an’ lost off on celestial wankology people don’t give a shit about.

At the brain-zappin’ calculus enda the astrological scale, we got transits an’ conjunctions an’ all kinda crapola no one got a brain feels pain gonna much care for.

Other end is the more lyrical an’ poetic hooman touchpoint — the meltin’ potta all passion, spirituality an’ emotional jiz juice.

Astrology gotta always remember how the startin’ point for people is their passions — their dreams an’ interactions, their unfoldin’ works-in-progress, mebbe even their stoopid pets.

Took us a while, but right now in the noo millennium, we are loosenin’ up a little an’ bein’ straighter with one another ‘bout how our inner lives spin in an intricately woven yet sometimes unnervingly rift-riven way with the face we show to the world, an’ how we touch on one another in ever more divergent ways as we baseline tryta get a handle on the chameleon masqueradin’ as our own essence.

We are as planets spinnin’ round the Sun, only with waaaaaaaaaay more freedom, way more choice, way more sentient firepower.

On a good day, we even got streamin’ movies, bottlesa vino — an’ the sudoku-toppin’ trivia conundrum known as FFS what is covfefe?

But I figure qualitya summa the stories we got spinnin’ the globe here in 2017 is kinda lame.

Oblivion sniffs the wind an’ stomps a hoof inta the dust, readyta trample all achievement before it.

‘Gainst that foretellismocated certainty, prolly all kindsa different an’ more positive narratives gotta go workout sumplace fulla lycra skimpies an’ sweat — an’ up their game sum to the beata Kanye.

An’ astrology is one such game.

Centuries old, it is equally bloodied an’ ferocious.

But, hey — who cares ‘bout that?

These may be hard times for soft stories — and the soft people wish ’em into bein’ — but we seen worse before an’ we seen it through.

Gonna go write sum horoscopes now.

I am through bein’ quasi-academicalistic…

Title Image c/o Amber Avalona @Pixabay

Spread the love, slip in the bookmark, mix up the linky.

Notethis article originally appeared on the delish MEDIUM an’ is reproduced here

cos I am a real lazy fucker.

<span class="sdata" title="18"></span> <span class="sdata" title="02, 2017"></span>

Pisces — Suspense, Solution & Ultimate Resolution

By |<span class="sdata2" title="2018-06-07T13:20:39+00:00"></span>|Creativity, Illusion, Pisces, Resolution|0 Comments

pisces blog headline shows solution and journey

PISCES — SUSPENSE, SOLUTION & ULTIMATE RESOLUTION

The momenta blisstasmal dissolution is upon us!

Aquarius tossed us up in the stark, lightnin’ bolt air — an’ now Pisces gonna drop us deep into the Zodiac’s most expansively creative waters.

Gotta thinka all those movies you seen where the hero is drugged or concussed or under the influencea sum reality-shiftin’ hex.

There are shadows an’ shapes, an’ plentya sensual textures that feel like they are merged with evrythin’ you got insideya, an’ even thoughya kinda recognize summa what is gowin’ on, the experience — in alla its soul-caressin’ haze — kinda never hangs together, like your life is bein’ blended by sum deliciously benevolent alchemist.

pisces personality traits indicate fortune

We gonna plunge together into this eternal outta-phase sargasso an’ drift free in a blur, kissin’ on one another with no clue where our frickin’ lips jus’ went.

Lotsa stuff you been thinkin’, feelin’ an’ doin’ gonna mooshie downta nonsense, like that dull throbba HWWWSSSHHH ya hear inya ears whenya are underwater.

Listen hard, an’ you gonna hear how this ambient an’ seemingly relentless sound got the germa all possibility swooshyin’ up insidea its white noise NUTHIN’.

All sensation gonna be this way — evrythin’ comin’ gonna be super gestatory, like floaty jellyfish suspended in the murk — an’ when the Pisces deal is done, an’ the Spring Equinox flares outta Aries’ asshole, these beautifully amorphous shapes creatin’ themselves insideya gonna slooshie outta the water an’ walk on land as naive an’ darin’ creatures hellbent on life.

Evrythin’ swills round in the deepest waters right now, beyond definition, beyond boundaries, beyond riska drownin’.

Evrythin’ dissolves as of the weekend.

reach for the stars with pisces motivation fish

So you got one mission an’ one mission only for the next few weeks:

Allowyaself to be consoomed, gazmoliciously intoxicated.

(An’ I would wanna say to any minors readin’ — or anyone survived the 60s without bein’ turnedta poisoned ash — this is not an edict from on astrological high to go mix it up with mind-bendo narcotics cos I am speakin’ metaphorically here, an’ even if I wasn’t, YOU DO NOT NEED ANYA THAT STUFF RIGHT NOW COS PISCES IS SWEET AN’ KIND AN’ HER ILLUSIONS NEVER GONNA HURTYA.)

Gotta figure next few weeks we gonna be on a creative an’ emotionally supple roll, with no target to aim for other than total abandonment to the moment.

“We are as virgins before emerging dreams, sages before unfolding mysteries, visionaries before spill and shimmer of pure existence.”

See? I jus’ made sumthin’ up already.

An’ — miraculously — it is even in frickin’ English!

pisces loves February 19th

Wanna jus’ say also that from Monday 27th, this blog gonna be a regular fixture in an implausibly mutable Cosmos fluxin’ out on eternal change an’ uncertainty.

What this means for you, sweet observera wonders, is that you got a safe an’ dependable harbor whereya can set down anchor evry Monday an’ soak up my wise astrological counsel.

Got sum cool Fire stuffs juicin’ away in my vestibule, an’ we can prolly all rely on Mother Cosmosis to bowl us a whole buncha synchronized planetary swimmo gonna suggest zodiac-type themes an’ provoke filosophical discussions.

Also — rely on Moi to jus’ go make shit up.

That sound like a plan you want in on?

Gotta hope so, cos remember — I got no toad gonna keep me company in my secret sanctum.

All I got is stars — an’ also right now a kinda salad-themed wrap with sum sorta salami in it, dunno what it is.

I am such a frickin’ loser, tellya.