Fucking Full Metal Warrior Monkey

Yes, a fucking full-metal warrior monkey.

I have heard all the regular zodiac bullshit in my life. I am convinced you can not date a woman without getting a whole heaping load of horse shit about what your birthday means. Usually whatever they got out of some gas station rolled up horoscope. What the stars have to do with my movements through life makes no goddamn sense. There's more than one latitude on this planet, thus trying to determine what the hell you are based on what stars are where is illogical at best.

So I put up with it. Women put out. I like that.

Besides, my sign being some OCD cleaning lady virgin makes no damn sense if you have known me for five minutes.

Then I looked up my Chinese sign on a whim. That crap you see on restaurant placemats? Bullshit. If you look deeper, the zodiac gets deep as hell. First off, there are three animals, not one, and they are all complicated by the five classical elements of Asian persuasion.

You got your regular old egg foo yung animal, that's the one based on your year. That is what you project to others. Meaning: it is not who you are, but what you seem to be. So, the least important is what ends up on your year sign. also, if your birthday is before March, you probably have your sign wrong. Dumbass. My sign there is metal monkey. More on that later.

The inner animal is determined by your birth month. A corrected agricultural calendar, but a very accurate one as far as classical calendars go. This is who you are, basically. This is your behavioral motivation. When you get pissed off at the guy who cuts in on you in line and you want to strangle him, if that is your reaction, that is your inner animal. My inner animal is a yang-metal monkey. Metal has a dichotomous relationship with pretty and war. I am not the pretty. I am not the cute little ring, I am the forged blade and the graphite bronze shield. I am the death monkey.

Now, this complicates matters for most. Their inner animal is not their outer animal. They are not what they seem. Now, it is statistically unlikely (something like 5X5X12X12:1) that a person would be the same element-animal. And I am.

There is a deeper level to the zodiac. It is the secret animal. Secret animals are what you were born to be. They are the part of you that actually strangles the motherfucker who cut in that line. The secret animal goes off the suns position at the hour of your birth. Not real complicated if you have a handy farmer's almanac. I was born in the hour of the monkey. Meaning, take that first probability, which comes out to 3600:1 and multiply it by twelve. You get 43,200:1. I am one special motherfucker destined for conquering.

It also means something yours probably doesn't. I am exactly what I seem to be. I am not complicated. I am a driven martial attitude connected to motivated killer balls the size of several mid-size SUV's. I feel like Wild Turkey.