His name was Scott
One very cold Toronto winter, I noticed a tent sagging into the snow. Inside was Scott — 50 years old, kind-eyed, and holding on with quiet pride. He offered me the only thing he had to give: his help. Months later, he was gone.
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I didn’t stop my 12-sign readings because I didn’t care — I stopped because I cared more. You’re not one in twelve. You’re one of one. And you deserve guidance that goes deeper than horoscopes. Here’s what’s next…
Chapter Four: When Trust Becomes a Liability
I used to believe that if you showed up with integrity, people would meet you halfway. That if you honored your word, others would, too.
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After 10,000 tarot readings, here’s what I know: The truth doesn’t hide. It whispers.
You don’t read for 10,000 people — most of them remotely — and not learn something about truth.
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Chapter Three: When 'Fuck You' Should Be Used – Without Apology
I didn’t start with anger.
I started with shock.
A fire in my living room.
Smoke. Flames. Burned hands. My Segway battery exploded and nearly took my home with it.
But I survived. So I gathered myself. I filed a claim. I submitted photos, receipts, reports—everything they asked
Chapter Two: “Caring Counts®” — Until You Need It
How silence, spin, and endless holds grind you down — until your dignity’s gone and your case is closed.