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tearing the rag off the bush again
Doug Lasken?s Authentic Horoscopes for 2010 PDF E-mail
Nobody here at the Corpse either read or believed these horoscopes



You’ve finally broken through, but to what you’re not sure. The American Psychological Association defines “pronoia” as “the belief that no one is out to get you when in fact they are.” Forget that; everything’s ok!



They don’t call you “bull” for nothing, and you’re more full of it during this Bovine Trine than you’ve been since the last time the Sun entered its House of Petulance. Be sure to keep quiet if asked what you think of a delicate situation.



You’ll have double trouble if you don’t slow down. Yes, your inner steeds are chomping at the bit, but you don’t have a clue what’s happening; decisions made now will come back to haunt both of you. Be patient: next week will be worse.



So it’s come to this: you’re consulting star charts when what you really want is a chocolate old-fashioned. Welcome to your life, Crabby!



You’ve always wondered if Dorothy’s timid feline was your type. Well you can stop wondering- he is! With Purry-Paws entering your House of Insouciance, you’ll need a quiet corner.



Greetings, analytical Virgo! Analyze this: You are running on fumes. At your current rate, you will achieve entropic heat death approximately 15 billion years before the universe does. This is one record you don’t want to set.



Usually undecided, you can leave that behind and become permanently undecided.

Besides, everything is getting better and better exponentially, so that by next Sunday morning the universe will be infinitely better, or worse, I’m not sure.



You feel hot and passionate as usual, but today, tomorrow, and most of next Thursday you’d better cool it. With Aquarius exiting her “Age” in a big hurry, this is no time to pursue righteous certainty. Tonight: Pick a fight.



You feel unusually arch today, yuk yuk, but don’t bend your bow until at least the 15th, or the 16th, anyway by the 17th at the latest, because on the 18th you won’t be so much on target as the target.



Your lack of ambition, a thorn in the side of everyone who knows you, will come home to roost next Wednesday night when Goat Cheese Flambe intersects your Seventh House of Introspection. All hell will break loose whether or not you proceed with extreme caution.



The Universe will throw a metaphorical wet blanket and if you’re not careful a literal one too on all your plans, for a change, so don’t make any unless you have a blow dryer handy.



That je ne sais quoi, that feeling that there’s something fishy about your existence will be proven beyond a reasonable doubt at approximately 3:06pm on the 19th. Temporary fix: See “Avatar” and tell people the visuals were terrific but the story was cliched.


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