Ah, you absolute sods, you’ve dragged me from my cosmic cave once again to decode the planetary bullsht for the fourth bloody day of July, 2023. Time to spill the bloody beans about the celestial arse-about-face that’s about to go down, courtesy of these clusterfck constellations.

Let’s start with the obvious. The moon, that ginormous grey cheeseball in the sky, is huddling up with Pluto. And not the adorable Disney dog, no, the planet of transformation that just loves throwing a wrench into the cogs of your life. So don’t be surprised if emotions are running as wild as a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Expect sudden changes that’ll feel like a slap to your face with a cold, wet fish.

Speaking of fishes, bloody Neptune is sextiling both the moon and Pluto. This hazy, blue gas giant, symbolic of dreams and illusions, will stir your emotional soup and try to lure you into a cosy daydream. But don’t fall for that sht, mate! It’s a fcking trap! Keep your feet firmly grounded on the cold, hard ground of reality.

Now onto the hellfire trinity: the Sun, Mercury, and Mars. These three are up to some celestial shenanigans. Mars and Venus are snogging in Leo, which means your love life might get as heated as a summertime barbeque. Just make sure you don’t get burned, because the Sun and Mercury, that crafty f*cker, are conspiring in Cancer. So expect some fiery emotions and potentially explosive words. This isn’t some soap opera drama. Nah, it’s full-on Shakespearean tragedy kind of stuff.

But wait, there’s a silver lining to this thundercloud. Jupiter is playing nice, providing a bit of respite from the chaotic mess of the universe. Slinging good vibes from Taurus, it’s trying to bring a bit of bloody peace and prosperity amidst the turmoil. A round of applause for the big guy!

Saturn, the killjoy of the cosmos, is casually tripping over the Sun in Pisces. This is going to drag everyone’s mood down like a lead balloon. It’s like when your mate shows up uninvited and drinks all your beer. Thanks a lot, Saturn, you soggy party pooper.

Overall, the sky’s a bloody battleground, but remember, it’s all just a cosmic dance. And as Ragey McSwearington, your astronomically abusive guide through the celestial sh*tshow, I say take it all with a pinch of salt, maybe a shot of tequila, and always remember to enjoy the ride, even when it’s rougher than a cobblestone street. After all, it’s not every day you get to flip the bird at the universe.