"Astrology and Astronomy's Cosmic Comedy Club"

“Virtual assistants? More like ‘virtually useless.’”

A horoscope is a damn cosmic snapshot of the planets’ positions at a specific time, which some people believe can predict your shitty life events. Astrologers create these infuriating forecasts by analyzing the fucking positions of the celestial bodies and how they might piss you off or bless you based on your zodiac sign. It’s like the universe is playing a sick joke, making you go through crap you didn’t ask for. So, if you’re into this cosmic bullshit, check out your horoscope and see what the stars have in store for your miserable existence.

  • Gather around kids. Relax, it is safe, I know I appear somewhat calm, but it is me, same ole Ragey, just a weekend smarter, and I decided to stop caring about you guys. You do fine, it’s me who needs fucking help. And you guys helped me, thank you. Yea, I see your sea full of dumb faces. Even with my Ray Ban’s retrofitted with welders strength glasses I still see your naivety shining brightly like a fucking sun on it’s own.

    Think of this as a class of Rageycation, it is not education, it’s not even learning. It’s a glimpse into my life and how I think and operate. It’s gnarly, it’s beautiful, it’s neatly organized chaos, with the occasional glimmer of hope, a hallowed and shrinking hope, that some day, we will all be parting our ways, and never see each other again. You know, with a good feeling of satisfaction, in our gut.

    That is when our job as humans are done. When we stand there, not a soul in sight. No feelings other than deep inner calm. No words on the inside, at all. Nothing. I went into this weekend caring about you guys, I created a lot of work for myself, I dutifully did the work too. I wrote about 5,500 words, a mega weekend horoscope that really wove the week together and tied it up neatly.

    I even threw in some, if I must say so myself(which I must, for reasons that will become apparent, to you, soon enough), really brilliant Asstrollogy(I have a hunch that is the true pronunciation, don’t quote me on it though, my colleagues might lynch me). Cutting through the bullshit of astrologers like a hot knife through a stick of butter in hell. Yet brilliantly showing how astrology also can work to illuminate yourself in ways that still baffles me, and I KNOW it is hogwash and poppycock. In equal measures.

    Yet, it work’s. At any rate, I will not publish it at all. Why? Simple; schadenfreude. A sense of glee. A tiny tiny pleasure of doing the opposite of what my conscience told me. I shouldn’t care about you guys as long as I have problems in my life. I lost 6 months of work because I got focused on tits on youtube. And I have the blue balls to think I could teach you anything? Come on, that is absurd.

    You know it, I know it, our collective gut knows it. Something is wrong. It is my job to fix my own shit before I pretend to give you advice–you see, as long as I have my own shit, speaking to you is simply me abusing you for my own selfish reasons. A way to postpone obvious, glaring faults in myself. In the horoscope I wrote, I deftly unraveled how Saturn, retro, in Pisces somehow caused…..

    “…. We lift our heads, look around and asks ourselves, how did I end up in this motel room, along highway 666, which incidentally leads to Sin City, in a rabbit costume.

    Now that you have begun that journey, lets complete the picture. You have to account for that goat tied in the corner, dressed in latex, wearing pink underwear. You have to somehow explain to your partner about your cross-dressing secrets, and why you have been sneaking out lately to sell your ass on the black market for more of that degrading filth you call entertainment.

    ……..


    You dressed that goat, you gave it a near fatal cocktail of ludes, meth and roofers, mixed with medicinal grade booze, tied it up and went to town thinking it was your wife. Your “Hey, I didn’t know Angel’s Dust did that to you!” skit doesn’t hold up in court. The pictures have already made their rounds in the backrooms of the akashic records. You thought they were professionals? Yea, right.

    Heh. Inject a LOUD scoff from me at this stage.

    It’s just a front end, the universe is basically manned by staff as professional as an early Monty Python skit. You know, one of those really weird ones that make you cringe. Yeah, in reality, that is what we have to deal with. …..”

    It was a brilliant essay. And it was important. Just not in the way I thought. It shall serve as a lesson to us all. It was a whole journey, you may or may not have had a benefit reading it, I did, and that is all that really matter, today, now. I have done the journey for you. And instead of droning on and on, wasting my time, your time, every ones time. It’s the third quarter of this moon cycle, I may or may not write some articles. I will do what I must.

    New horoscope on the next new moon, stay somewhat de-tuned, stay shady n cool. With all the care I can manage to muster right now, let me give you an unusually lethargic “Fuck You” and a series of images I made for the original text, yeah, the one you lot will never see.

    A little PS. to you, real thought criminals, out there, that scrolled your way, to the bottom. I couldn’t even be arsed to reverse the order of the images. So, the last one, down here, is the beginning of the story. just a heads up. See ya, with the end in mind.. Au revoir

  • Weekly
  • Daily

  • July 28th, and until further notice.

    Gather around kids. Relax, it is safe, I know I appear somewhat calm, but it is me, same ole Ragey, just a weekend smarter, and I decided to stop caring about you guys. You do fine, it’s me who needs fucking help. And you guys helped me, thank you. Yea, I see your sea full of dumb faces. Even with my Ray Ban’s retrofitted with welders strength glasses I still see your naivety shining brightly like a fucking sun on it’s own.

    Think of this as a class of Rageycation, it is not education, it’s not even learning. It’s a glimpse into my life and how I think and operate. It’s gnarly, it’s beautiful, it’s neatly organized chaos, with the occasional glimmer of hope, a hallowed and shrinking hope, that some day, we will all be parting our ways, and never see each other again. You know, with a good feeling of satisfaction, in our gut.

    That is when our job as humans are done. When we stand there, not a soul in sight. No feelings other than deep inner calm. No words on the inside, at all. Nothing. I went into this weekend caring about you guys, I created a lot of work for myself, I dutifully did the work too. I wrote about 5,500 words, a mega weekend horoscope that really wove the week together and tied it up neatly.

    I even threw in some, if I must say so myself(which I must, for reasons that will become apparent, to you, soon enough), really brilliant Asstrollogy(I have a hunch that is the true pronunciation, don’t quote me on it though, my colleagues might lynch me). Cutting through the bullshit of astrologers like a hot knife through a stick of butter in hell. Yet brilliantly showing how astrology also can work to illuminate yourself in ways that still baffles me, and I KNOW it is hogwash and poppycock. In equal measures.

    Yet, it work’s. At any rate, I will not publish it at all. Why? Simple; schadenfreude. A sense of glee. A tiny tiny pleasure of doing the opposite of what my conscience told me. I shouldn’t care about you guys as long as I have problems in my life. I lost 6 months of work because I got focused on tits on youtube. And I have the blue balls to think I could teach you anything? Come on, that is absurd.

    You know it, I know it, our collective gut knows it. Something is wrong. It is my job to fix my own shit before I pretend to give you advice–you see, as long as I have my own shit, speaking to you is simply me abusing you for my own selfish reasons. A way to postpone obvious, glaring faults in myself. In the horoscope I wrote, I deftly unraveled how Saturn, retro, in Pisces somehow caused…..

    “…. We lift our heads, look around and asks ourselves, how did I end up in this motel room, along highway 666, which incidentally leads to Sin City, in a rabbit costume.

    Now that you have begun that journey, lets complete the picture. You have to account for that goat tied in the corner, dressed in latex, wearing pink underwear. You have to somehow explain to your partner about your cross-dressing secrets, and why you have been sneaking out lately to sell your ass on the black market for more of that degrading filth you call entertainment.

    ……..


    You dressed that goat, you gave it a near fatal cocktail of ludes, meth and roofers, mixed with medicinal grade booze, tied it up and went to town thinking it was your wife. Your “Hey, I didn’t know Angel’s Dust did that to you!” skit doesn’t hold up in court. The pictures have already made their rounds in the backrooms of the akashic records. You thought they were professionals? Yea, right.

    Heh. Inject a LOUD scoff from me at this stage.

    It’s just a front end, the universe is basically manned by staff as professional as an early Monty Python skit. You know, one of those really weird ones that make you cringe. Yeah, in reality, that is what we have to deal with. …..”

    It was a brilliant essay. And it was important. Just not in the way I thought. It shall serve as a lesson to us all. It was a whole journey, you may or may not have had a benefit reading it, I did, and that is all that really matter, today, now. I have done the journey for you. And instead of droning on and on, wasting my time, your time, every ones time. It’s the third quarter of this moon cycle, I may or may not write some articles. I will do what I must.

    New horoscope on the next new moon, stay somewhat de-tuned, stay shady n cool. With all the care I can manage to muster right now, let me give you an unusually lethargic “Fuck You” and a series of images I made for the original text, yeah, the one you lot will never see.

    A little PS. to you, real thought criminals, out there, that scrolled your way, to the bottom. I couldn’t even be arsed to reverse the order of the images. So, the last one, down here, is the beginning of the story. just a heads up. See ya, with the end in mind.. Au revoir

  • EDITORS NOTE: Ragey is clearly overworked trying to catch up with the 6 months of lost work over his stupid tit incident, and it seems he sent me two horoscopes for the same day, I am just rubbing it in his face in public that he fucked up. which version do you like best? Leave your comment on X!

    Let’s get one thing straight: today is a cosmic clusterfuck of epic proportions. That blood-red moon hanging up there like a giant middle finger in the sky? Yeah, it’s not just an eclipse—it’s a warning. A big, glowing “fuck you” from the universe. If you thought you were gonna glide through September 18 like it’s any other day, think again. The moon is in Pisces, which means you’re swimming in the deep end of your emotional bullshit, gasping for air, while the sun in Virgo stands there, clipboard in hand, criticizing your inability to get your shit together.

    Mercury’s over here squaring Jupiter, making sure every word that comes out of your mouth is about as useful as tits on a bull. You’re gonna try to make sense, but all that’ll come out is a jumble of confusion wrapped in a blanket of “I can’t fucking deal.” It’s like a cosmic game of telephone, except the person on the other end is an idiot, and so are you.

    Oh, and Venus? Ha! Venus in Libra is desperately trying to keep things nice and balanced but guess what? It’s fucking useless. Venus is squaring Pluto, so your love life is basically a dumpster fire with power struggles sprinkled on top. You’ll be fighting over the most meaningless shit—like why someone didn’t text back fast enough, or why your partner didn’t fold the laundry the “right way.” Spoiler alert: THERE IS NO RIGHT WAY TODAY, EVERYTHING IS WRONG.

    Then there’s Mars in Cancer, all emotional and volatile, squaring the North Node because why the fuck not? It’s like Mars took a wrong turn on its way to a therapy session and decided, Nah, fuck it, I’ll just blow up everyone’s sense of direction instead. If you’re trying to figure out your life’s purpose, well good luck with that, because the only thing you’ll find today is a metaphorical face-plant into the pile of your unresolved emotional baggage.

    Jupiter is throwing itself into squares left, right, and center like a drunk toddler at a family gathering, blowing every little inconvenience into a full-blown catastrophe. It’s squaring the Sun, Moon, AND Mercury—why not go for the trifecta of cosmic fuckery? You’re going to think every little thing is the end of the goddamn world. Dropped your phone? Clearly, your life is falling apart. Someone cut you off in traffic? That’s it, you’re ready to burn the whole system down.

    Let’s not forget Saturn retrograde in Pisces, because what’s a shitstorm without some existential dread? Saturn’s here to remind you that all your past mistakes are still looming over your head like a dark cloud. Mercury is opposing Saturn, so every single time you try to move forward today, it’s like dragging your sorry ass through a field of quicksand. Every step? Another fuck-you from the universe.

    And finally, Neptune and Pluto. Neptune’s conjoined with the Moon, feeding you a buffet of delusions and false hope. Don’t trust your gut. It’s probably drunk. Pluto, meanwhile, is doing a happy little retrograde in Capricorn, trining Uranus like, “Hey, let’s tear down everything you think is stable!” Your sense of control? HA! Fuck that noise. You’re about as in control today as a blindfolded driver on the highway.

    In conclusion, the cosmos has a clear message for you today: Buckle up, motherfucker. Your emotions, relationships, communication—hell, your entire life—is getting thrown into a blender without a lid. Today’s astrology is the equivalent of the universe rage-quitting on you. Enjoy the mayhem. Or don’t. Like I give a shit.

  • Aries
  • Taurus
  • Gemini
  • Cancer
  • Leo
  • Virgo
  • Libra
  • Scorpio
  • Sagittarius
  • Capricorn
  • Aquarius
  • Pisces

  • Are you feeling restless, Aries? Well, that’s because Jupiter is in your sign, and it’s like having a caffeine-infused squirrel in your brain. Do something productive with that energy, like cleaning your house or starting a bar fight.

  • With the Sun, Mercury, Uranus, and the North Node in your sign, you’re the celestial flavor of the month. Don’t let it go to your head though. Remember, even a broken clock is right twice a day.

  • Venus is in your sign, making you more charming than a snake oil salesman. Use it to your advantage, but remember, no one likes a show-off. Try not to annoy everyone in the process.

  • Mars is in your sign, making you more moody than a teenager with a broken phone. Try to keep your temper in check, or you’ll end up alienating everyone within a 50-mile radius.

  • The Ascendant is in your sign, making you feel like the king of the world. Enjoy it while it lasts, because soon enough you’ll be back to cleaning up cat vomit and arguing with telemarketers.

  • The Moon is in your sign, turning you into an emotional train wreck. Good luck dealing with that. Maybe try meditation or a bottle of wine. Or both.

  • Nothing much is happening in your sign, which is probably a good thing. Enjoy the calm while it lasts, because you know as well as I do that it won’t last long.

  • Again, not much going on in your sign. Maybe it’s time to stir up some trouble. Or, you know, do something productive for a change

  • No major planets in your sign, Sagittarius. You might feel a bit neglected, but it’s better than being on the celestial hit list. Stay low, stay quiet, and maybe you’ll avoid any cosmic bullets.

  • Again, nothing major happening in your sign. It’s a good time to take a break and recharge. Or, you know, work yourself to the bone like you usually do.

  • With Pluto in your sign, you’re feeling the urge to shake things up. Just remember, revolution is all well and good until someone loses an eye.

  • Neptune and Saturn are in your sign, making you feel dreamy and disciplined all at once. It’s like being a hippie with a day planner. Good luck figuring that one out.

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