Welcome, star gazers, to another shit-show of celestial antics, courtesy of your favorite foul-mouthed astrologer, Ragey McSwearington. It’s the 13th of May, 2023, and the cosmos are acting like a clusterfuck of bad decisions at an office Christmas party.

Let’s kick off with Mercury, the cheeky bastard is in retrograde, pulling a reverse gear in Taurus, the stubborn as hell bull. You might find that communication, tech, and travel are more of a pain in the arse than normal. Emails go missing, your phone turns into a useless brick, and every bloody red light in town will be against you.

Then there’s Venus, the planet of love, lounging in the sign of the crab, Cancer. This might seem sweet and romantic to some of you soppy sods out there, but in reality, it’s more like having a love-struck puppy nipping at your heels. Emotions are running high, and everyone’s being a tad too clingy for my liking.

Mars, the bloody warmonger, is in Cancer too, stirring up the pot like an overzealous chef. Tempers are flaring, and it’s like everyone’s got a chip on their shoulder. Just keep your head down and try not to piss anyone off, alright?

Now, onto Jupiter, the planet of luck and expansion, which is strutting its stuff in Aries. You might feel a surge of optimism and confidence, which sounds great until you realize it’s encouraging you to make some bloody stupid decisions. Think twice before you invest all your savings in that new crypto, yeah?

Saturn is in Pisces, playing the responsible adult in the room. It’s like your nagging mum reminding you to clean your room and pay your taxes. You might feel weighed down by responsibilities and expectations, but remember that discipline is just a polite word for not fucking things up in the long run.

And bloody hell, Pluto is also in retrograde, in Aquarius of all places. This is like a deep-seated revolution brewing under the surface. You might feel an urge to rebel against the status quo, or maybe just set something on fire. My advice? Don’t.

In summary, today’s celestial clusterfuck is a recipe for chaos and confusion, with a side of misplaced passion and a sprinkle of rebellion. Strap in, star gazers. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

This is Ragey McSwearington, signing off. May the stars have mercy on us all.