Hey, you absolute cosmic clowns, it’s Ragey McSwearington here, your favorite rage-filled astrologer, ready to tell it like it goddamn is. This clusterfuck of a week has been leading up to this day, Sunday the 28th of May 2023, so buckle up. It’s about to get real salty up in here.

The goddamn Moon thinks it’s all that, tripping over Mercury and Ura-fucking-nus like a drunk on a tightrope. So expect communication to be as smooth as a cheese grater on your knuckles. You thought your boss was an ass before? Well, just you wait. Miscommunications and techno-fuck-ups will be as common as the “Karens” asking to speak to the manager.

And then there’s the bloody Sun, in a square-off with Saturn. No, that doesn’t mean they’re going to have a nice, friendly game of chess. This is more like a bar fight with pool cues and broken bottles. Everyone’s got an ego the size of Jupiter and patience thinner than your last nerve. If you thought your neighbor was a prick for playing their music loud, well, they’re about to crank it up to eleven.

Mercury’s having a three-way with the Moon and Uranus, which sounds kinky but in reality, it’s a shit show. Everybody’s words are twisted, intentions are misunderstood, and even your grandma’s innocent comments sound like a diss track.

Oh, and Mars is squaring off with Jupiter and Pluto. It’s like a cosmic mosh pit up there. Down here, it means people’s tempers are short, and they’re ready to fight over the last packet of toilet paper in the supermarket. And that’s not even the end of it. Pluto’s gone retrograde, and let me tell you, that’s about as fun as a root canal without anesthesia.

On a somewhat lighter note – and by lighter, I mean like choosing between a kick in the teeth or a punch in the gut – Venus is sextiling Uranus and trining Neptune. So, while everyone’s arguing and yelling, you might just find some unexpected beauty. Like a flower growing in a crack in the sidewalk, or finding a forgotten $20 in your jeans pocket. It’s not much, but in this chaos, we take what we can get.

So there you have it. This week is a bigger dumpster fire than last week. Keep your heads down, your expectations low, and for fuck’s sake, turn off your email notifications.

Ragey McSwearington, signing off. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.