Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Horoscope
Posted by Läps Trinity on Wed, May 21, 2008 at 12:00 AM
ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
Did you know that lilies are deadly for cats, and that chocolate murders puppies? Yes, it’s true. And what other secrets does this maleficent universe hold? Well, the paintings of Georges Seurat? Death for dolphins. Cat Stevens? Dead rabbits on the peace train. Oh Aries, is there nothing wonderful we can love without mortal terror? No. The answer is no.
TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
Whatever happened to that racing car bed you used to rock? Oh no. Don’t tell me you ordered a waterbed over the internet?! C’mon, Taurus, when are you ever going to be satisfied with what you have, not what you can get? Can you order happiness over the internet? Can you order, oh, I don’t know, shoes? You can? Shit. Maybe I’m the one who should get internet access.
GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
Whoa, whoa, whoa, Gemini, eyes front. Pay attention here. Just because you installed mirrors everywhere doesn’t mean you get to abandon the straight-ahead view. It’s all too easy to fall into the habit of looking without seeing. You look and you look and all you see is what you want to see. In your case, that would be a lot of madras and gingham.
CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
So, Cancer, you ask me for 20 more minutes of sleep, and then you ask me to wait until you get over your current crisis — I can’t keep deferring on this, buddy! The future is coming fast, whether you like it or not, and you better get prepared to live in it. And you and I both know what that really means (and this ain’t no euphemism): sex with robots.
LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
When the sun shines these days, Leo, it shines for thee. You hear those distant, fun-and-punchy handclaps? They clap, my friend, for thee. That wondrous scent of cookies? They bake for thee. So I wouldn’t blame you if there was a little extra hippity-hop in your step: you are the prince(ss) of the sidewalk, the president of anywhere you are. You rule, dude.
VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
There was a brief period in my early twenties when I would drink vermouth and ginger ale every morning and just sit by the window watching the busy street corner. I also occasionally wore eye makeup and would often ask loose acquaintances for inappropriately large amounts of money. Virgo, sometimes we go through rough patches. It gets better.
LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Be careful of the insidious power of calling things other than they are. Whenever we allow ourselves the velvet temptation of easeful substitution — the elision of truth and clarity — we dismantle the world of meaning another few bricks. What I’m saying, Libra, is that he/she’s really not that into you, and you’re just going to have to face up to that.
SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
Pull my daisy, Scorpio. Whoops, not that hard! Daisy petals flutter through their air, blinding us to our responsibilities and tickling our sinuses with the pollen of wanderlust. Achoo! It can’t be hashish and beat poetry all the time; sometimes life demands that you button the top button of obligation and tie the tie of seriousness… if you’re a square, daddy-o.
SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
The mien of a Gorey heroine and the mind of a Dalloway, she held herself above us all, dressing in her grandmother’s sweaters, opening beer bottles with her teeth, cussing. Is it possible, Sagittarius, to dig yourself clear without a shovel, one sodden palmful at a time? She would say, “Yes, yes it is.” But then her world was filled with inevitable Yes. Is yours?
CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
You ever tried engine-block cookery? You know, when you trap your neighbor’s prize sow, butcher it, and affix the shanks and/or rump to the sides of your 1993 Honda Civic’s motor after rubbing them with olive oil and cumin? Well, Capricorn, be careful about it. Your neighbor will not be happy. He might even punch you in the leg and throw hot tea at you.
AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Hey, hey, hey! Let’s take a canoe trip! On a very long river. Sometimes we’ll have to paddle really hard, and we’ll work up a huge appetite and sleep really well at night on the quiet shore. Other times we’ll just let the current carry us along and we’ll look to the littoral where bears and wolves play. Why not, Aquarius, why not just up and go? And we can bring the dogs, too.
PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
You may think there’s nothing much left to fight for. And frankly, I’m not really going to argue with you. But what about this: fighting can be kind of fun, even if it isn’t actually for anything. They never really tell you that, do they, Pisces? Punching, swinging, tasting blood, seeing red, seeing white… I hate the cliché but it really does make you feel a little more alive. And what’s wrong with that?
Did you know that lilies are deadly for cats, and that chocolate murders puppies? Yes, it’s true. And what other secrets does this maleficent universe hold? Well, the paintings of Georges Seurat? Death for dolphins. Cat Stevens? Dead rabbits on the peace train. Oh Aries, is there nothing wonderful we can love without mortal terror? No. The answer is no.
TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
Whatever happened to that racing car bed you used to rock? Oh no. Don’t tell me you ordered a waterbed over the internet?! C’mon, Taurus, when are you ever going to be satisfied with what you have, not what you can get? Can you order happiness over the internet? Can you order, oh, I don’t know, shoes? You can? Shit. Maybe I’m the one who should get internet access.
GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
Whoa, whoa, whoa, Gemini, eyes front. Pay attention here. Just because you installed mirrors everywhere doesn’t mean you get to abandon the straight-ahead view. It’s all too easy to fall into the habit of looking without seeing. You look and you look and all you see is what you want to see. In your case, that would be a lot of madras and gingham.
CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
So, Cancer, you ask me for 20 more minutes of sleep, and then you ask me to wait until you get over your current crisis — I can’t keep deferring on this, buddy! The future is coming fast, whether you like it or not, and you better get prepared to live in it. And you and I both know what that really means (and this ain’t no euphemism): sex with robots.
LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
When the sun shines these days, Leo, it shines for thee. You hear those distant, fun-and-punchy handclaps? They clap, my friend, for thee. That wondrous scent of cookies? They bake for thee. So I wouldn’t blame you if there was a little extra hippity-hop in your step: you are the prince(ss) of the sidewalk, the president of anywhere you are. You rule, dude.
VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
There was a brief period in my early twenties when I would drink vermouth and ginger ale every morning and just sit by the window watching the busy street corner. I also occasionally wore eye makeup and would often ask loose acquaintances for inappropriately large amounts of money. Virgo, sometimes we go through rough patches. It gets better.
LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Be careful of the insidious power of calling things other than they are. Whenever we allow ourselves the velvet temptation of easeful substitution — the elision of truth and clarity — we dismantle the world of meaning another few bricks. What I’m saying, Libra, is that he/she’s really not that into you, and you’re just going to have to face up to that.
SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
Pull my daisy, Scorpio. Whoops, not that hard! Daisy petals flutter through their air, blinding us to our responsibilities and tickling our sinuses with the pollen of wanderlust. Achoo! It can’t be hashish and beat poetry all the time; sometimes life demands that you button the top button of obligation and tie the tie of seriousness… if you’re a square, daddy-o.
SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
The mien of a Gorey heroine and the mind of a Dalloway, she held herself above us all, dressing in her grandmother’s sweaters, opening beer bottles with her teeth, cussing. Is it possible, Sagittarius, to dig yourself clear without a shovel, one sodden palmful at a time? She would say, “Yes, yes it is.” But then her world was filled with inevitable Yes. Is yours?
CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
You ever tried engine-block cookery? You know, when you trap your neighbor’s prize sow, butcher it, and affix the shanks and/or rump to the sides of your 1993 Honda Civic’s motor after rubbing them with olive oil and cumin? Well, Capricorn, be careful about it. Your neighbor will not be happy. He might even punch you in the leg and throw hot tea at you.
AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Hey, hey, hey! Let’s take a canoe trip! On a very long river. Sometimes we’ll have to paddle really hard, and we’ll work up a huge appetite and sleep really well at night on the quiet shore. Other times we’ll just let the current carry us along and we’ll look to the littoral where bears and wolves play. Why not, Aquarius, why not just up and go? And we can bring the dogs, too.
PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
You may think there’s nothing much left to fight for. And frankly, I’m not really going to argue with you. But what about this: fighting can be kind of fun, even if it isn’t actually for anything. They never really tell you that, do they, Pisces? Punching, swinging, tasting blood, seeing red, seeing white… I hate the cliché but it really does make you feel a little more alive. And what’s wrong with that?
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
