Bull Crap: I Fell Asleep A Gemini And Woke Up A Taurean

What the hell's going on up in the heavens? I work like a dog for a few days, go out and have a delightful late Christmas party with friends last night, settle down to getting re-acquainted with my blog this morning, and what do I find out? The universe has changed. Well, fine, I reason; I'm a Gemini, I'm at home with the mercurial nature of life and even kind of embrace it (though, as a true Gemini, it's taken a bit longer for me and my twin to acclimate to life's little whims). "But hold on there just a minute, my pushme-pullme friend," the cosmos wags its celestial finger at me, "you're no longer a Gemini. Now you're a Taurus." My God, I think it would be easier dealing with the fact that I'm now an Albanian hermaphrodite trying to decide between the convent or dental school than a Gemini who's now a Taurean.

I settled down my confusion long enough to go the bastion of zodiacal wisdom, the Washington Post, to discover what my new life has in store for me. In a very convenient chart found here, I learned the following. In a nutshell, as a Gemini I used to have the ability to "communicate effectively and think clearly" (well, the communicate part is up for debate, but I think any even casual reader of spitoutyourgum will agree wholeheartedly with that "think clearly" part), but now as a Taurean I value "stability, loyalty, and dogged determination." What the hell? I've gone from Socrates to Radar O'Reilly in one (very good) night's sleep? Say it ain't so, Sydney Omarr (nee Kimmelman, FYI). Talk about a leopard changing its stripes! The cosmos expects full-fledged, thought-we-were-Geminis to wake up one morning and embrace, let alone value, stability? Stability! No problem, and this afternoon I'll also cure the common cold and invent a dollar changer machine that actually accepts any dollar bill on the first insertion.

You know, yesterday I saw a car with the vanity license plate "OPR2NST"; made me want to seize the opportunity then and there to let the air out of its tires. Kid stuff, now. What I'm doggedly determined to do today is hunt down Jeane L. Dixon (nee Lydia Emma Pinckert, as if she were born in a Jane Austen novel) and communicate effectively my displeasure for the way she's led me on many a wrong path all these years. Is there a lawyer out there who specializes in astrological malpractice?

Oh shit, now my twin (who's just waking up; he's about an hour behind, always) is making rumblings about "bulls are kinda cool; let's try this Taurean thing out for a while, okay?" It's gonna be a long day, no need to consult my horoscope on this one.

Bullshit Detector--Chris Mars by spitoutyourgumblog