Alright, you celestial troglodytes, prepare to get the cosmological smackdown from your abusive astronomer, Ragey McSwearington. Listen up, this hot mess of a horoscope is for the 2nd of July, 2023, so buckle the fuck up.

Let’s start with that big flaming ball of gas we orbit, the Sun. It’s huddled up with Mercury in Cancer, just lollygagging about. It’s a fucking celestial therapy session going on here. Expect emotions to run as high as a giraffe’s ass. Your words might come out as whiny as a child denied candy at a grocery store, so for fucks’ sake, think before you flap your gums.

Look at Venus and Mars, all cozy in Leo. It’s like a fucking romantic comedy over there, only less funny and more vain. Your love life is going to be a straight-up peacock parade. Everyone’s strutting around, showing off their plumage and acting like the universe revolves around them. So, be ready for drama thicker than the plot of a telenovela.

Jupiter, that overgrown gas balloon, is chilling in Taurus. If you think it’s a license to indulge, think again. You’ll feel a strange pull towards expensive shit you can’t afford. Don’t be a dumbass, resist the urge. Credit card bills don’t pay themselves.

Saturn’s giving you the side-eye from Pisces, so it’s time to face the music, you ungrateful cosmic bastards. It’s about time you learned some discipline and stop blaming the stars for your lack of fucking common sense.

Now let’s talk about Uranus. Yeah, go ahead, giggle like a five-year-old. Done? Good. Uranus is in a pissing contest with Venus and Mars in Leo. Sparks are going to fly, and not the sexy kind. It’s more like, “I love you, but if you don’t stop leaving the toilet seat up, I will strangle you in your sleep” kind.

Pluto is acting like the universe’s grumpy uncle, throwing a fit in Capricorn. It’s trying to shake things up, challenge the status quo, and generally piss everyone off. Better buckle up because the roller coaster is about to take a steep dive.

In a nutshell, the cosmos is one giant fucking circus, and you’re the clown. But remember, even a broken clock is right twice a day. So put on your big boy pants, stop whining, and deal with it like the adult you’re supposed to be. You’ve survived all your bad days so far. This one’s no different.

So, what’s the big takeaway from all this? The universe doesn’t give two shits about your plans. It’s going to keep spinning, and you’ve got to spin with it. Might as well put on some tunes and make it a dance. Peace out, space cadets. Remember, Ragey McSwearington is watching you. Don’t fuck up.