Wednesday, March 31, 2010

HOROSCOPE

Posted By on Wed, Mar 31, 2010 at 1:00 AM

ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
One of my many nicknames back at the Teutenberg School for Astrological Finishing and Home Repair was "Mr. Twister," because of this way I had of dancing to the works of Rod Stewart. I pretended not to like the moniker, but was secretly delighted. I don't know why I pretended, Aries, it seems silly now. You don't need to pretend anymore.

TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
Are you paying attention to your friends these days, Taurus? Are you remembering the little things, the details that enrich any friendship? You know, making sure to note mileposts and remembering that your friend(s) don't like cucumber so that maybe you could make your gaspacho without so much of it? Selfish jerk. Also, yuck, cucumber.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
More velvet. When in doubt, that's the answer, more velvet. More velvet in your wardrobe, more velvet in your paintings, more velvet in your cheese, more velvet in your approach to life. I respect your natural inclination toward abrasive candor, Gemini, but you need to ask yourself if it's helping you get everything you want from life.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Cancer, Cancer, Cancer… Did you know you're the only sign of the Zodiac that's also a deadly disease? How does that make you feel? I've often thought it would be good to come up with an alternate sign name… Crabula? Hermex? Canevia? Xeo? Rupertronica? Rebranding yourself isn't easy, but sometimes it's what has to be done.

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
Imagine if people were like cell phone reception or Wi-Fi access. As in they just sort of went in and out, only working some of the time? Oh wait, people are totally like that. Seriously, Leo, why can't you work harder? If you spent as much energy focusing on the stuff you cared about rather than having dumb tantrums all the time, your life would be better.

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22

Do you know how to pick a lock? Hot-wire a car? Jump-start a Vespa? Clean a fish? Prepare a duck? Knit a hoodie? No, you probably don't. So what are you going to do when the shit hits the fan, Virgo? Go running to the corner locavore general store? No, because you don't even KNOW HOW TO RUN. You should learn how to run, Virgo.

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Follow your nose, Libra. When in doubt, just let the smell of "good times" and "big fun" be your guides to living. What do those things smell like? The former is like popcorn and fabric softener, while the latter is like a hot dog being cooked over an open fire while stuck in the end of a beer bottle. I really don't think I can get more specific than that.

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do, Scorpio? I'm sorry I confused the cardboard cutout for a real policeman… I just get so nervous around authority. But please tell me you at least enjoyed that crazy "chase" across the rooftops of Brooklyn (even though, yes, we weren't actually being chased). I've never felt so alive.

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21 Once upon a time I thought I would become a tugboat captain, but then my mother told me that tugboat school would cost too much money… That was a long time ago, and I only recently discovered that back when I was a kid, tugboat school would've been subsidized by the government. My mother is dead now, Sagittarius. This whole thing makes me sad.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
There's a reason the Sun is at the center of the Solar System, Capricorn. And no, it's not just because it's the largest gravitational mass around, it's because it makes an effort with its appearance. Think about it: shiny, bright, warm, colorful, vivacious… No wonder the Sun is at the center of things all the time! You could use a bit of sprucing up yourself.

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
A well-built dinner table is an important part of any home. It becomes the locus for all of our family joy and sadness, it holds up our hopes and gives stage to our dreams, and, most importantly, it is the place we go to for our late-night mac ‘n' cheese. It's important, Aquarius, that you give your table a name, so it feels loved. How about "Gordon"?

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
There's nothing wrong with learning a trade. These days in America, everyone thinks they have to go college—this is ridiculous. Sure, post-secondary education is a billion-dollar business selling the mythical status of a "college degree," but the amount of debt incurred by each graduating class is fast becoming criminal (oh wait, it is). So, Pisces, can I borrow 30 grand?

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

HOROSCOPE

Posted By on Wed, Mar 17, 2010 at 4:00 AM

ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
Do you remember ten years ago when "lucid dreaming" was really popular? You know, where you teach yourself to realize you‘re in the dream state and then take control of the oneiric arena to enjoy yourself at will? I got close, Aries, to being able to fly every night, but got so obsessed I started sleeping 15 hours a day. Too much of a good thing.

TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
How many continents have you been to, Taurus? I've only been to three and I'm starting to get nervous. Because really, this life of ours is but brief waking amid the eternal night of the universe, so if you don't do it now, when are you going to do it? That's why I'm building a rocket ship in my backyard. And that's why I'm going to fly that sucker some day.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
I don't often give this kind of advice, but maybe you should think about taking more pills. It just seems like you could use more stability in your day-to-day moods, because the whole "crazy Gemini/sane Gemini/which one are you gonna get Gemini" thing is starting to get a little tired. Maybe you just need more exercise, or a better diet. You gotta do something, though.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
So, spring is officially here (sure, there were some warm days at the beginning of the month, but I'm talking about the official start). Are you ready? I think this one's going to be a little different, Cancer. It's a new decade, a new start... I can't really explain it but I'm feeling optimistic. That's right, you heard me, optimism. And I think you should be too.

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
"It was a bright, clear morning, just after dawn. There were two of us in the rowboat, sitting in silence, waiting for the bell to sound. And as the tocsin rippled across the water to the far side of the lake we dipped our oars and began to pull." We dipped our oars and began to pull. C'mon, Leo, when is an anecdote about rowing ever just an anecdote about rowing?

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22

What's with all the cursing, Virgo? You've been swearing up a storm lately, and it's not pretty. Do you think your newfound use of profanity gives you more personality? Do you think it makes you cool? Because you know it doesn't, right? It makes you look like a ten-year-old trying on Daddy's suit—which is to say really stupid. Now quit your fucking cussing.

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Dude, are you high? WTF? Look. I don't have any fundamental problem with mind-altering substances (I love, love, love Sour Patch Kids. for example) but I think you might be in need of a spring cleansing, if you know what I mean. Can't you just enjoy the world for what it is, Libra, even if for only a moment? Try seeing with clear eyes for a few hours.

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
I would kill for a plate of spaghetti right now, Scorpio. And you know why? Because it would serve as a perfect metaphor for your future. The noodles represent the infinitely entangled paths that fate provides you, the sauce represents your general zest for living, and the cheese is a symbol of how you seem to be improving with age. All good things. Buon appetito!

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21 Have you noticed lately the large number of grown women in their forties pushing around on a scooter? I have. I can only imagine these are parents who are "borrowing" their children's playthings during the school day out of some misplaced grab at childhood whimsy. Don't they look ridiculous, Sagittarius? Yes, they do. YOU PEOPLE LOOK LIKE IDIOTS.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
Now that the weather's gotten warmer we can all finally get back to what we do best here in New York City: lying on our backs in the park divining animal shapes from the clouds. Look! There's a monkey! There's a narwhal! There's a monkey riding a narwhal? You see how much fun that is. My point here, Capricorn, is that you need to relearn fun. Or you will die.

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Barge travel is the future, Aquarius, it's inevitable. As our roads crumble and our oil runs out and our planes refuse to fly, humanity will take to the canals, zooming all over the place in adorable little barges. Mark my words, this is what's going to happen. So why not be in the avant-garde for once? Yup. I'm pretty much telling you to buy a barge. Now.

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
Beach season is around the corner, Pisces... are you ready? Have you been doing 1,000 crunches a day? Are you lean, mean and depilated? If you're like me, you've been wearing a blanket around the house for the last six months and are pale, wan and sickly. I know it's gonna hurt, but I think you need some summertime boot camp.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

HOROSCOPE

Posted By on Wed, Mar 3, 2010 at 1:30 AM

ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
I don't wanna know, Aries! I don't care! You have your reasons, I'm sure, well-cultivated justifications for doing all the little selfish things you do, but I really don't want to hear them—you know I'll just get angry if I do. Maybe you should listen to yourself some time, try to get a sense of just how self-deceiving you can get. Wake up, change.

TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
I was walking in the woods one day when I discovered a trap door at my feet. I tried to open the door but found I could not. I came back with a sledgehammer and still the door held fast; dynamite... nothing. I came back each day and struggled in vain to open the trap. To this day, Taurus, I return each week and try to open the door. And still I fail, and still I return.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
I knew a woman who used to catch her tears in a beaker and when she had enough liquid she'd make them into ice cubes and serve them in cocktails to her enemies. Those cocktails were really delicious, and even now I crave one. You see, Gemini, there is a dark part of us that is relieved by—enjoys even—the pain of others. Because for a moment it is not us.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Why does volleyball always get the short end of the sporting stick? Or is it netball I'm thinking of? Which is the one with the spandexed horse and the burlap helmet and the ten-mark scoring system? Don't believe me, Cancer, don't trust that this is a legitimate sport? Well I'm here to tell you that loomballing is the next big thing. Watch out, NHL.

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
When's the last time you just straight-up fell asleep at your desk, Leo? I swear I just did while writing this VERY IMPORTANT HOROSCOPE. It's not that I'm bored, underslept and constitutionally unable to focus on any one thing for longer than 45 minutes, it's that in channeling the sidereal voices, one becomes exhausted; which leads to sleepiness. G'night!

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
Man oh man. I had to wait for three different subway trains this morning, they were all so crammed up to the gills with commuters. It was horrible. And when I finally squeezed on I was surrounded by crates of geese and ducks, and giant amphorae of olive oil. Then I realized I was actually on a Roman ship, c. 27 B.C. What a weird morning I had, Virgo.

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Just because you have a superpower, Libra, doesn't mean you should flaunt it—and btw, being able to walk three miles in 25 minutes isn't all that impressive a power. You know what is an awesome power? Shooting laser beams of predictive information out of your eyeballs... now that's impressive. (I can't actually do this, though I've tried.)

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
Whoever first said â�‚��“old habits die hardâ�‚�� would be a rich man if he'd managed to copyright the thing. Problem is, he had this terrible old habit of avoiding his responsibilities and lost the copyright application under a scattering of papers. So, the moral of this, Scorpio, is that no matter how much you screw up, you'll have something to make an excuse of.

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
It's time we had old-school European trams on the streets of New York, Sagittarius. Big yellow trams attached to a complex series of overhead cables that occasionally shoot sparks down upon the heads of unsuspecting pedestrians who then think they are having epiphanies. Epiphany! Maybe all the problems you're having with your roommate are your fault?

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
Thank you, thank you for coming. There really is a lot of love in the room tonight, I can feel it... So, on to tonight's show: our first guest is Envy, a tenacious veteran of your personality who makes sudden and upsetting public appearances at least once a month... let's hear it for Envy!!! Let's hope this is Envy's last appearance for a while, Capricorn, shall we?

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
These really do feel like anxious times, don't they, Aquarius? With Europe now seemingly on the brink of economic collapse, an American civic discourse that's been hijacked by nativists and naysayers, and a totally polluted China, the future doesn't seem a bright one for our funny little species. But don't let that get to you. You're in for some nice times ahead, I promise.

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
You gotta let yourself hope... You can't live your entire life expecting little, hoping for less. I know you're pathologically terrified of disappointment, but enough is enough. I want you, Pisces, to start visualizing the best possible outcomes in any given situation. I know that'll lead to the occasional upset, but if you don't try, you won't get anything from life.

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