ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
You're kind of like the Neutral Milk Hotel of cool kids, Aries. You did that one thing a long time ago, which people still talk about; but most of those people actually think you're dead. You need to come up with something to let the world know you're alive (even just to let yourself know). Forget the concept albums, have you thought about a well-timed streak?
TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
The next most terrifying animal-borne illness will assuredly be the the Adirondack Squirrel Stutter. The first cases will appear in the Catskill region and will sweep down the Hudson River in a chattering deluge of incomplete sentences and awkward communication. The pandemic will culminate in the collapse of the radio industry. Are you prepared, Taurus?
GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
It takes a little bit more than that to make it in this city, Gemini. It troubles me that you actually think you've put in the necessary time and care to be ready for your "big break," as you call it. It takes years of cultivating contacts and waiting for the right moment to strike. I'm still waiting. Yup. Waiting for the perfect time to become rich and famous. Can you recommend an agent?
CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Is this time going to be different? Are you finally going to say, "Enough is enough, I'm tired of missing out on free ice cream samples"? Being assertive doesn't mean you're rude, Cancer, it just means you'll have few excused to complain about stuff. If you don't ever try, you can just blame the world for your woes, and that will just leave you bitter and alone in the end. Is that what you want?
LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
Did you grow up on a crescent? A court? An avenue? Or better still, a boulevard, lane or cul-de-sac? Your psychological profile as an adult, some studies say, is directly linked to the psycho-geographical space you first inhabited as a child. Life on a "road" makes you independent but wary; on an "alley," secretive and dirty. You have to know the past, Leo, to change the future.
VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
The Devil can't really make you do something you wouldn't normally do anyway. At least that's how I interpret my three weeks of Sunday school lessons from Lem Kock's daughter in the autumn of my tenth year. She was beautiful, Lem Kock's daughter, hair the color of dijonnaise, teeth like Canadian dimes. Oh, Virgo, don't blame the Devil for Lem Kock's daughter...
LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
We all know that Nina Simone went pretty much straight-up crazy toward the end of her life in France. She shot at dudes and often wouldn't use fabric softener. Foibles like these, Libra, are, of course, the price of genius. But here's the real trick: just because you have foibles like these does not, ipso facto, make you a genius. Right now, you're just irritating. Get it?
SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
Half way is better than not at all. But all the way is the best. You know what I'm saying, Scorpio... a triple is the most exciting play in baseball, but what everyone wants is the home run. Is this getting dirty? Is your sex life ok? Because a healthy sex life is important for happiness. This also includes masturbation. So, yeah, settle for the bunt single if you have to... just get on base.
SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
So, you're an amateur cartographer now, eh Sagittarius, ready to explore the world and make maps of everywhere you go... I have bad news for you: everywhere has been mapped. It's been mapped in three dimensions, in four, in two, it's been mapped in chocolate, in butter — you're going to need a radically new angle. And that angle is stuffed animals! Maps made of plush. Do it.
CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
Oh how we talk and just let the words come out without any thought to their sharpness, their raw wounding edges. And what seems like a mere scratch at first grows into a blooming infection, spreading through the host until there is no other option but to amputate and cauterize. You know, Capricorn, for a waitress, you can be really mean sometimes.
AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Just because the canoe doesn't look riverworthy to you, Aquarius, doesn't mean we shouldn't take it out for spin. C'mon, you'll love it. We'll pack a lunch — sandwiches, chips, a banana, a thermos of coffee and a bottle of wine — plop the dogs in the middle, and let the current take us into the late afternoon. Not so bad, right? There is no reason why this can't happen...
PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
I've never really believed in the soul. The idea of an immaterial, eternal self that exists like hydraulic fluid in a backhoe, animating the corporal machine, seems patently absurd to me. But (and this is a big, important "but"), I understand that this idea might be important to you, Pisces, so I won't make fun of it too much. The only thing I'll say is that your "soul" needs a pep talk. It's flagging.