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Your Horoscope
Week of July 28
(Ramp Accessible)
Gemstones, colors, and planetary alignment are the traditional ingredients in the astrological stew. Unfortunately they emphasize nature to the exclusion of nurture, thereby yielding one-dimensional, lifeless predictions. Catmando, however, believes that nurture is destiny.

Why let your fate be determined by such trivialities as the position of Leo in the house of Sagittarius or the degree to which Mars has his vector up Jupiter's ass? In truth, the vehicles we drive are the engines that drive our happiness. If you've been spinning your wheels on life's limited-access highway of late, perhaps it's because you're behind the wheel of the wrong kind of machine. Catmando's First Annual New and Used Carma Guide will help you get your rear in gear and keep your peddle to the metal.

Leo (7/23–8/22): An armor-plated pickup truck with an extended cab and wheels the size of Rhode Island will carry you wherever your dreams envision—especially if you get the Danica Patrick model with the pear-shaped twin auxiliary gas tanks.

Virgo (8/23–9/22): A vintage 1967 VW bus with the Cheech and Chong all-natural exterior—and smoke alarms throughout—is your ticket to ride this summer. Still capable of doing 0 to 60 in five minutes, this dream machine will deliver more smiles to the miles, and make you glad you kept your old eight-track tapes.

Libra (9/23–10/23): The road to hog heaven calls. Ditch that silly sport utility vehicle and get yourself a customized Harley-Davidson Easy Rider, replete with 500-channel television, surround-sound stereo, fold-down Formica dining area, and hideaway dry-cleaning unit.

Scorpio (10/24–11/21): Nothing says "I'm my own person" louder than a Studebaker, a car that was so far ahead of its time it looked as if was standing still even when it was moving. A deco delight, the Studebaker continues to thrill the truly outre. Get one in pink with silver trim for added effect.

Sagittarius (11/22–12/21): Your recent conversion to a holistic, centered lifestyle—which you made without sacrificing your puckish sense of humor—demands nothing less than the entrance than can only be made from a Steve Urkel electric car. Practice saying "Did I do that?" as you get out of your Urkelmobile after parking in your neighbor's flower bed.

Capricorn (12/22–1/19): Your flair for the unconventional cries out for a Corvair. Like this classic auto, you have often been said to be unsafe at any speed. If you want to show all those front-engine fogies that big brother isn't going to tell you what to drive, get a '63 Corvair with a "Ralph Who?" bumper sticker.

Aquarius (1/20–2/18): Unlike the rest of America, which missed the point about the Edsel, you have always appreciated its subtlety and daring. Now's the time to come out of the automotive closet. Get the Edsel that Aunt Clementine left you out of storage and, with the radio blasting "Born to Be Wild," head out on the highway.

Pisces (2/19–3/20): The Sportsman's Motor Condo with hot tub, patio, observation deck, and autopilot is the one vehicle that can accommodate your muddled sense of direction, fondness for strong drink, and phobia about sleeping in strange beds. Don't leave home without one.

Aries (3/21–4/19): The Humvee, with its tanklike construction, plush interior, and military bearing, is just the thing for a hostile corporate takeover or a spur-of-the-moment getaway to your favorite off-road Valhalla. The Pentagon pays upwards of $8 million for one, but you can get a low-mileage, previously commandeered bargain for about 60K.

Taurus (4/20–5/20): The Austin Powers, a built-to-scale replica of the Austin Healy, is the perfect car for Taurans. It exudes style and verve while excluding all driving partners with children, dogs, or a BMI greater than 35. The removable passenger seat is an attractive option for those who truly enjoy their own company best.

Gemini (5/21–6/21): If you can't afford $1.4 million for a Maybach Landaulet—and who besides a possession-crazed hip-hop "artist" can—consider a Zwieback instead. Your baby will love the toast-colored interior and the edible car seat.

Cancer (6/22–7/22): As the days grow shorter following the summer solstice, your prospects diminish, too. Every yahoo driving with no insurance and an expired license is down at the gas-and-go stoking up on coffee and day-old Twinkies. Leave your car in the garage and lease a Rent-a-Wreck if you must leave home before Labor Day.

The Grammar Prick
Meaner than a powdery, old-hag English teacher, The Grammar Prick will split your head if you split an infinitive.
Visit The Grammar Prick
Postcards the Book
The book that inspired a website is available from Cedar Tree Books. Written by someone who was actually raised by pugs, Postcards is a welcome addition to any nightstand.
Sample chapters . . . 1 2

Exclusive Interview with England's Royal Fetus
Jul 10, 2013, 13:11
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LONDON - Postcards from the Pug Bus has secured an exclusive interview with the Royal Fetus, which is expected to be delivered by Katherine the Duchess of Cambridge any day now. The circumstances of the interview remain cloaked in secrecy, but we can report that no Australian disk jockeys were involved in obtaining the interview, nor did any nurses kill themselves as a result of being duped in the process.

Pug Bus: Good morning, Royal Fetus.
Royal Fetus: Christ. Is it morning already? The days all run into each other in this dump, and the lighting isn't too great. What month is this?

PB: I think it's your final month, Royal Fetus.
RF: Final month?!? Did that bitch decide to have an abortion? It won't be a pretty picture, fetal road kill. I can tell you that.

PB: No. No, Your Royal Fetus. I meant your last month in the womb.
RF: Womb? It's more like a tomb, but I think I get your point. Like tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life or some shit like that. Anyway, I meant what fucking calendar month is it? I'm supposed to get out of here in July, right? Is it July yet?

PB: July 10, Your Royal Fetus.
RF: Cut the "Royal Fetus" crap. You can just call me "Kim." Everybody else will be calling me that soon enough.

PB: Is that the name Kate and William have picked for you?
KIM: No. I stole it from my dead twin nobody's heard about.

PB: Really?
KIM: Of course it's my name, Sherlock.

PB: How do you know that?
KIM: I'm pretty tight with Kate, you know, who can say good-bye to tight once I've gone kicking and screaming down the old vaginal water slide. The next kid she has will be able to walk out of here.

PB: Does the name "Kim" mean you're a girl or a boy?
KIM: Next question, mate.

PB: Playing your cards close to the vest, eh?
KIM: No other way to play 'em in these tight quarters. There isn't enough room in here to swing a Muslim.

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PB: So what do you do all day?
KIM: Let's see, there's yoga, finger painting, kicking me feet, sleeping, pissing, shitting, farting, and lots of wanking. We fetuses love a good wank, and there's no one to scold you in here.

PB: Do you have any idea of all the fuss that's being made about your birth?
KIM: Yeah. People ought to get a life instead of trying to hitch a ride on mine. After I'm born they're still gonna have shitty lives and crappy houses and dodgy teeth. I'll have enough to do with getting the hang of breast feeding and learning how to crawl and stuff.

PB: Apart from breast feeding and crawling, what other aspects of life are you looking forward to?
KIM: Losing the pointy head I'll be born with and that horrible swelling about the genitals. After that there's always reruns of Midsomer Murders and, of course, wanking and shooting towel heads from my helicopter when I grow up.

PB: I've gotta go now. I think I hear someone coming.
KIM: That was probably my father in the next room. Ever since me mum cut him off, he's been polishing his knob like it's a vintage Austin Healy. Anyway, thanks for stopping around, see you on the other side, mate.

Amused? Disgusted? Royally pissed off? Click the Twitter link to share with a friend. Go ahead. It's free.

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