ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
You can be full of shit sometimes, can’t you Aries? To give you the benefit of the doubt, I’ll assume you believe most of the stuff you’re saying because otherwise that would make you a big liar. Look, I don’t mind a little mendacity now and then for the sake of simplifying any given situation, but making up stories for no reason just complicates your life further. Truth is simple.
TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
The season of the fans is upon us. No, I’m not talking about Mets crazies or Yankee yobs, I’m talking about the sweet reassuring thrum of seven spinning lovelies circulating air and white noise through your otherwise stifling apartment. Why are you so cheap, Taurus? Why are you frightened of air conditioning? Do you like sweating all the way through your mattress? That is not sweat equity.
GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
One last dance, eh Gemini? Why not. We’ll stop traffic and string lights up around the zocalo and the villagers will come out in the hot rainy night and none of us will be able to hear the music but there will be laughter and we’ll be happy again, all night long. But that’s the trick, isn’t it? No matter how much fun you have, your troubles will still be there in the morning.
CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
I’ve been receiving strange postcards in the mail over the last three months. They’re all postmarked “Zembla,” and I can never make out the handwriting, especially the signatory. Some salient words have been “awl,” “obligatory,” “fondness” and “amygdala.” Cancer, do you have trouble reading the signs the world sends you? Just chuck them in the fire and get on with it.
LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
A chill goes down your spine when the ducks fly by in the darkness. A great flock of them, nearly 200 strong, comes in low, only ten feet over your head, and they suck the air behind them causing you to stumble forward. Are there any angels left in the world? Were there ever any here? If we are them, Leo, I fear for the coming morning, when the sun rises on all this damning evidence.
VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
Sitting in a field, playing a guitar, daisy between your teeth, cardigan askew. Isn’t it all a little hokey, Virgo? Even you have beautiful teeth and perfect pitch, you have to consider how you are seen by the rest of the world. Are you a charming ne’er-do-well with a heart of gold, or a vain blowhard with a hidden agenda? Are all of us torn between these personas? How are we to know? Damn.
LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Did you know that Jacques Brel was a key contributor to artificial intelligence research? Indeed, between recording magnificent chansons and eating French fries with mayo he made key discoveries about intelligent agent paradigms, still in use today. Makes you feel useless, eh Libra? But wtf do you care? You have your own life to live, to waste if you choose. I suggest you do so.
SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21'
Dreaming that you are a piece of furniture is significant, wouldn’t you say, Scorpio? I may be an astrologer but that doesn’t mean I’m qualified in the arts of oneiromancy — and so I turn to you. Last night I dreamt I was an ottoman, and everyone kept putting their feet up on me at the end of their long work days. Analyze that, won’t you? And when you do, apply it to yourself. DIY!
SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
Do you have a dedicated phone ear, a particular side of your head you’re more comfortable using on the old gab box? It’s good to alternate ears as much as possible, because, according to studies by invisible Dutch doctors, your personality is slightly different from one side to the other. Think about that, Sagittarius! You might be presenting your weak self every time you say “hello.” Messed up.
CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
I always thought I was an honest guy — until I checked out your stars last night. Man, things look really good for you this month. So good that I very seriously contemplated fudging the truth out of a concern you might take things for granted. But fuck that, Capricorn, I ain’t gonna do you wrong. You’re just going to have to deal with the foreknowledge of good fortune. (Wait! I am honest!)
AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Grass-stained knees, twigs in your hair, a little soil under your fingernails — life in the great outdoors can do a lot to restore the will to live. Now Aquarius, I’m not suggesting you wander off into the wilderness with nothing but a penknife and a Snapple bottle filled with tap water, I’m just saying you need to get yourself to the park. Bring a blanket, take off your shoes, relax.
PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
Scissors, graph paper, a pack of gum, coat hangers, industrial-strength rubber bands and a box of expired toner — that’s all you need to make the perfect Mini-Heli Dream Carrier™. Once you’ve assembled your M.H.D.C™ you’ll never again have to worry about remembering your dreams. That’s right, Pisces, your unresolved subconscious issues (and you have a lot) will be a thing of the past!