Presenting the astrological world's first Ganjascope, a timeless foretelling that reveals your past, present, and future at once. We take the logical out of astrological
Penultimate Day Campaign Updates
Recently Postcards from the Pug Bus petitioned the National Day Calendar to designate December 30 each year as National Penultimate Day. For the ultimate and the penultimate news about that campaign, click here.
The Grammar Prick
Meaner than a powdery-smelling, dried-up, old-biddy Language Arts teacher, The Grammar Prick will split your head if you split an infinitive.
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Postcards the Book
The book that inspired a website was written by someone who was actually raised by pugs, Postcards is a welcome addition to any nightstand.
Some photos cannot be shopped. They are perfect just the way god made them. Such perfection does not happen by accident, and wise, indeed, is the man who says "you can't photoshop this.""
The Fuck It List
Ten Things You Should Fllip the Bird to Before You Die
3. Seat Belts
4. FOX News
5. Paying for Music and Movies
6. Your Bucket List
7. Pissing Indoors
9. Stupid-ass Old Fart Hats
10. Going to Bed Early
Trigger warning! The content of this website may cause raging panic attacks in hypersensitive snowflakes who suffer from androphobia, galactophobia, emetophobia, corprophobia, claustrophobia, fear of taints, and other psycho-sexual maladies too numerous to mention.
Virgo (8/23–9/22): The Ample and All-Majestic Spirit (who put the bop in the bop-shoo-bop) jumps the medial strip while driving under several influences and collides with the Mother of All Cosmic Forces (who put the ram in the ram-a-lam-a-ding-dang). The fallout from this celestial encounter could have grave consequences for your life and your stash, not to mention your front lawn.
Libra (9/23–10/23): Smoking oregano for medicinal purposes runs you afoul of the DEA, which contends that oregano is a gateway drug whose use invariably leads to an addiction to pizza, raw pasta dough, and—worse yet—to a catatonic state known as Rigor Morris, which you can catch from your cat, Hindsight, who is better than no sight at all.
Scorpio (10/24–11/21): After smoking way too much Bio Jesus, you dream you are on a cruise ship that strays into the Bermuda Triangle and is boarded by fast-talking pirates with irritating cockney accents who follow you around trying to sell you shoddy home-care products. Historically these dream figures have foretold the inheritance of great wealth or a debilitating degenerative disease.
Sagittarius (11/22–12/21): Your tendency to go over the top when you're stoned causes personal relations to become strained after you are elected recording secretary of the Knock-Knock Joke Society. The vanity plate is annoying though essentially harmless, but push comes to shouting match when you install a "talking" doorbell that intones "Knock, knock? Who’s there?" whenever anyone rings it.
Capricorn (12/22–1/19): If you are reading this, obviously our recent prediction that you would not commit suicide on national television to protest the sale of High Times to Reader's Digest was right on the money. Emboldened by that success, we further predict that you will not be kidnaped by your birth mother this year, nor will a mysterious old man begin playing knick knack on your drum.
Aquarius (1/20–2/18): Your quest for financial security leads you to a three-day seminar on the design and marketing of CBD advertising stickers. A man whose hair looks as though it once belonged to an exotic quadruped assures you that numerous companies are eager to place their logos on miniature parasols and tiny Day-Glo sombreros. Don’t believe him.
Pisces (2/19–3/20): While dreaming that you're riding the Amortization Loop at H&R Block World, you decide it would be fun to fill out your income tax return with sines, cosines, square roots and negative integers. Don’t try it. The Internal Revenue Service has never been noted for its sense of whimsy, much less for its sense of forgiveness—not even when they're stoned.
Aries (3/21–4/19): Perhaps it’s time to reconsider your stubborn devotion to observing the letter of the law. Showing up at a black-tie-only affair wearing only a black tie, for example, is the kind of move that put the ass in asinine. What’s more, it severely compromises your ability to pull yourself up by your bootstraps besides where will hide your vape pen, up your ass?
Taurus (4/20–5/20): If you were being exiled to a remote, deserted island where you were going to spend the rest of your life alone and you could have only three strains of pot with you, which three would you choose? Consider your answer carefully. This isn’t a trick question. You will soon be exiled to a remote, deserted island.
Gemini (5/21–6/21): You become jealous when you learn that Leo is the first sign of the zodiac to register a corporate logo, you respond by becoming the first sign to adopt the metric system. Expect annoying banner ads whenever you visit Leo’s website, and be sure to state your requests in metric as well as imperial terms when ordering supplies there. Finally, we cannot advise taking the extended warranty.
Cancer (6/22–7/22): Do not become overly impressed with your opinions just because you are asked to become part of the Nielsen television survey. Your friends may not understand when you begin dressing formally whenever you watch television, nor will they take kindly to your shouting “Are you kidding me?” when they ask if you want to hang out, smoke a few joints, and watch TV.
Leo (7/23–8/22): The solution to your cat’s recent litterbox problems may be as close as your obsession with the ancient—and no longer fashionable—Chinese art of feng shui, which literally means “Put the sofa facing the window, asshole.” Cats have traditionally become discommoded by the presence of mirrors, flutes, and wind chimes anywhere near their pans. I wouldn't sleep on that Puffco Plus, either.
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The Pug Bus Blogs On
Although he no longer self-identifies with the basket of deplorables, our editor in briefs is still considered a basket case—and deplorable—in many precincts. He is determined to outlive that twat Mick Jagger, and he believes, to paraphrase Phish, "You've got one life, blog on!"