This isn’t your Sunday school astrology. This is about biting into flesh.
I don’t play signs. No sappy sand castles, no splashin’ around in DHA-enriched strawberry milk. The pudding is in the planets — the dark cocoa puddin’. I’ve come to exact justice for the signs. To slice ’til the horoscopus-pocus bleeds red.
Welcome to my zodiac house of horrors. The truth is darker than the devil you fear, so squirm back if you can’t stomach the ugly that makes the beauty.
Since these “signs” refer to breathing beings, they’ve got to be full of shit — as much as they are blessed by god.
You can keep lickin’ your pink cotton-coated ideals. The choice is yours.
Are you ready to feast on the meat?
FRESH MEAT OF THE WEEK
He looks and sounds tricky. But is it a trick?
Why do laughter and tears sound so similar?
The sign that comes after the BULL has gotta be sure not to STEP into the BULL SH-T.
He’s seen as the power-hungry villain.
There is ONE POWER Scorpio desires.
Like a dragon fed to fatness, his roar is bound to be explosive.
She is the most deadly, blood-sipping, voracious animal of all.
Taurus is the form you can’t purge, the grip you can’t let go of.
What is the power that turns man into stone?
Discover the to-die-for lure of Taurus.
The real patron of Libra is not Venus, goddess of love — it’s Nemesis, goddess of retribution.
Ya know. Vengeance.
Libras, your kiss-of-death secret is out.
He’s the leader turned slave turned gladiator.
Action is meaning in disguise, the raw thrust for self-fulfillment.
The basic urge to live the emotions needs to be stoked — before it dies out completely.
What happens when you give too much to the hungry gods of action and doing?