Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Horoscope
with Läps Trinity
Posted by Läps Trinity on Wed, Mar 15, 2006 at 12:00 AM
ARIES MAR 21-APR 19
Oh boy, here comes another tough one. Yeah, sorry Aries, but the hope train just left the station, and you know what that means: a spaghettini-stretched metaphor, all the way to Grand Central. But look at it this way, now you can enjoy the nave-like quietude of the empty platform, and as the sun goes down and all the trains go to bed, you’ll be left alone with your thoughts. All aboard!
TAURUS APR 20- MAY 20
We all have stories to tell, I realize that, they make up who we are — but there are moments when we wish we could just start fresh, jettison the nostalgic ballast and sail out into the beneficent sea air… a clean slate, or rather, a swabbed poop deck. Taurus, are you displeased with the person you’ve become? Though we can’t just throw it all into the sea, we can at least give the sails a scrub.
GEMINI MAY 21- JUN 20
Happiness is elusory. Happiness, some would say, is in fact illusory. But hell, we all have things that make us happy, instantly, above and beyond their intellectual value. I, for example, I’m immediately cheered by the sound of rain on the windowpane. Gemini, are you also cheered by the sound of rain on the windowpane? If so, we should take a trip in one of those glass-covered train cars! Yay!
CANCER JUN 21- JUL 22
When someone says something like, “The sky is pocked with stars,” we must take it to understand they are not in a good mood. Perhaps there is a problem with their neurochemistry, and they just need a glass of chardonnay. If this is the case, Cancer, you should really just give it to them. Quit messing around, damn it! Give me a fucking drink, you sanctimonious prig.
LEO JUL 23- AUG 22
The poet once said, “You just gotta give it a little love.” But while you’re at it, you might want to prepare a nutritious, balanced meal. Alimentary equilibrium is important, Leo, in the health of any burgeoning relationship. Simply feeding the creature with the words it wants to hear isn’t going to allow it to grow. Unless you change, it’ll end up with little flipper legs (cute, but awkward).
VIRGO AUG 23- SEP 22
Every now and then it’s nice to pretend you’re an intrepid explorer journeying through life, delving into unknown zones of darkness and mystery — but sometimes, Virgo, you need a guide. Allow me. You’ve lately been prone to some pretty bleak thoughts — your instincts tell you to go deeper, but I think you should just opt for the all-inclusive tour to Oblivionville. Where everything is fine.
LIBRA SEP 23- OCT 22
I’m not a young Laplander anymore. Used to be I could ride naked through the night on the back of a lactating reindeer, splashing fennel-root vodka across my glistening withers with nary a sniffle come morning. Libra, time is an icy boulder, rolling slowly across the silver tundra, and there’s naught you or I can do to change that. Unless you invent a giant space ray gun to melt the ice caps.
SCORPIO OCT 23- NOV 21
You’ve been listening to the lyrics a little bit too much these days. And when they say sad things, it’s even sadder because of the melody… And damn it, Scorpio, you have no business being sad. Things are looking up; and even if you don’t particularly believe that right now, you’re just going to have to trust me. Hell, from my angle, things look fantastic. Just keep in touch, ok?
SAGITTARIUS NOV 22- DEC 21
Everything you do, you do out of love, don’t you Sagittarius? You can pretend you don’t, pretend you’re a mean old sonofabitch, but I’m not buying it. I know you’ve been rescuing kittens from the fascist dog police, ferrying them to safety on your whiskey-powered pramulator — I think you’re a hero, you big softie, and I think you should take some more credit for the good things you do.
CAPIRCORN DEC 22- JAN 19
Stress is like a crossbow. It winds ever so slowly, to tension levels close to a hundred pounds an inch, creaking toward taut potentiality… and then, it snaps. If you’re lucky, it hits an invading Hun, if not, a fellow defender of the castle walls. That’s the thing, Capricorn, though you think you can control the deadly force of the stressbow, you’re wrong. Try a poleaxe instead.
AQUARIUS JAN 20- FEB 18
Gauchos, buccaneers, bandaleros, dumbwaiters… These are the exciting characters of our nostalgic youth, the romantic leads in our childhood fantasies. What happened to those dreams we held so close to our hearts, Aquarius? It’s as if a small child has left our toy soldiers in the sun and they’ve melted into misshapen oddities. Save them from the sun won’t you? Lend a hand?
PISCES FEB 19- MAR 20
Just as the moon crests that stand of trees over there, on the other side of the lake, a great blue heron splits two crooked, white birch trees, rises majestically up over your dumbstruck head, and you think to yourself, “Why haven’t I ever traveled to foreign lands, done odd things, worn hats?” These are important questions, Pisces, I suggest you take them seriously.
Oh boy, here comes another tough one. Yeah, sorry Aries, but the hope train just left the station, and you know what that means: a spaghettini-stretched metaphor, all the way to Grand Central. But look at it this way, now you can enjoy the nave-like quietude of the empty platform, and as the sun goes down and all the trains go to bed, you’ll be left alone with your thoughts. All aboard!
TAURUS APR 20- MAY 20
We all have stories to tell, I realize that, they make up who we are — but there are moments when we wish we could just start fresh, jettison the nostalgic ballast and sail out into the beneficent sea air… a clean slate, or rather, a swabbed poop deck. Taurus, are you displeased with the person you’ve become? Though we can’t just throw it all into the sea, we can at least give the sails a scrub.
GEMINI MAY 21- JUN 20
Happiness is elusory. Happiness, some would say, is in fact illusory. But hell, we all have things that make us happy, instantly, above and beyond their intellectual value. I, for example, I’m immediately cheered by the sound of rain on the windowpane. Gemini, are you also cheered by the sound of rain on the windowpane? If so, we should take a trip in one of those glass-covered train cars! Yay!
CANCER JUN 21- JUL 22
When someone says something like, “The sky is pocked with stars,” we must take it to understand they are not in a good mood. Perhaps there is a problem with their neurochemistry, and they just need a glass of chardonnay. If this is the case, Cancer, you should really just give it to them. Quit messing around, damn it! Give me a fucking drink, you sanctimonious prig.
LEO JUL 23- AUG 22
The poet once said, “You just gotta give it a little love.” But while you’re at it, you might want to prepare a nutritious, balanced meal. Alimentary equilibrium is important, Leo, in the health of any burgeoning relationship. Simply feeding the creature with the words it wants to hear isn’t going to allow it to grow. Unless you change, it’ll end up with little flipper legs (cute, but awkward).
VIRGO AUG 23- SEP 22
Every now and then it’s nice to pretend you’re an intrepid explorer journeying through life, delving into unknown zones of darkness and mystery — but sometimes, Virgo, you need a guide. Allow me. You’ve lately been prone to some pretty bleak thoughts — your instincts tell you to go deeper, but I think you should just opt for the all-inclusive tour to Oblivionville. Where everything is fine.
LIBRA SEP 23- OCT 22
I’m not a young Laplander anymore. Used to be I could ride naked through the night on the back of a lactating reindeer, splashing fennel-root vodka across my glistening withers with nary a sniffle come morning. Libra, time is an icy boulder, rolling slowly across the silver tundra, and there’s naught you or I can do to change that. Unless you invent a giant space ray gun to melt the ice caps.
SCORPIO OCT 23- NOV 21
You’ve been listening to the lyrics a little bit too much these days. And when they say sad things, it’s even sadder because of the melody… And damn it, Scorpio, you have no business being sad. Things are looking up; and even if you don’t particularly believe that right now, you’re just going to have to trust me. Hell, from my angle, things look fantastic. Just keep in touch, ok?
SAGITTARIUS NOV 22- DEC 21
Everything you do, you do out of love, don’t you Sagittarius? You can pretend you don’t, pretend you’re a mean old sonofabitch, but I’m not buying it. I know you’ve been rescuing kittens from the fascist dog police, ferrying them to safety on your whiskey-powered pramulator — I think you’re a hero, you big softie, and I think you should take some more credit for the good things you do.
CAPIRCORN DEC 22- JAN 19
Stress is like a crossbow. It winds ever so slowly, to tension levels close to a hundred pounds an inch, creaking toward taut potentiality… and then, it snaps. If you’re lucky, it hits an invading Hun, if not, a fellow defender of the castle walls. That’s the thing, Capricorn, though you think you can control the deadly force of the stressbow, you’re wrong. Try a poleaxe instead.
AQUARIUS JAN 20- FEB 18
Gauchos, buccaneers, bandaleros, dumbwaiters… These are the exciting characters of our nostalgic youth, the romantic leads in our childhood fantasies. What happened to those dreams we held so close to our hearts, Aquarius? It’s as if a small child has left our toy soldiers in the sun and they’ve melted into misshapen oddities. Save them from the sun won’t you? Lend a hand?
PISCES FEB 19- MAR 20
Just as the moon crests that stand of trees over there, on the other side of the lake, a great blue heron splits two crooked, white birch trees, rises majestically up over your dumbstruck head, and you think to yourself, “Why haven’t I ever traveled to foreign lands, done odd things, worn hats?” These are important questions, Pisces, I suggest you take them seriously.
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