GEMINI MAY 21-JUNE 20
Buck and Wayne. Good names for a cat and a dog who travel around the country solving crimes and helping orphans win bake sales. Buck is the dog and Wayne is the cat. Buck is a Green Bay Packers fan and Wayne is into serial modernism. Oh, and he's also a Gemini. So yeah, things are looking good for you.

CANCER JUNE 21-JULY 22
You need solitude, Cancer. Way more than you've been getting: there's a limit to just hanging out with your peeps, killing time, telling the same jokes, doing the same drugs. You need to clean up and get out of town. Ride a horse. Chop down a tree. Skip a rock. You're having trouble seeing yourself right now.

LEO JULY 23-AUG 22
Dang. It got hot, didn't it? That's right, Leo, another summer is here. Another scorching, humid, sweaty, stinky New York City summer. Maybe this is the year you finally spring for that air conditioner, eh? Because do you remember that time you got so sweaty part of your couch melted? Ew.

VIRGO AUG 23-SEP 22
Bigger sunglasses, Virgo, that's all it's going to take. You worry too much about your look, about reinventing yourself every week or two. Just chill, and get some oversized sunglasses. Or you could stop caring altogether. Yeah, that's probably it, just stop caring. Can you do that?

LIBRA SEPT 23-OCT 22
Don't shoot the messenger, Libra. ok? Because I have some bad news: there's something in the back of your fridge and it's starting to smell a bit. Don't panic. It might be the brie, or that lentil stew you made last week, or possibly those protein shakes your roommate has been whipping up. Just burn it all.

SCORPIO OCT 23-NOV 21
Sometimes we get so deep we can't even see where we are—or where we once were, for that matter. We look and we look but we are blind to the past. What is it about us, Scorpio, that we make our lives so very, very hard? What crept into paradise and turned us into us? It sure 
as hell wasn't snakes.

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22-DEC 21
I've always wanted to play out a big death scene on stage. You know, really ham it up and choke and rattle and moan, like Shatner on a benzedrine tear. Or better yet, I'd do it as part of some kind of insurance scam, or to fool evil terrorists into releasing their hostages... Have you ever wanted to act, Sagittarius? You 
should try it.

CAPRICORN DEC 22-JAN 19
Do you know what a rearguard action is, Capricorn? I'm not totally sure that I do, but I think it has something to with fighting zombies off the back of a pick-up truck. You know you shouldn't use words and phrases if you don't really know what they mean. Even though I do it.

AQUARIUS JAN 20-FEB 18
You know what I hate about summer, Aquarius? There's no cross-country skiing. Also, all the bugs wake up and start stinging and biting and crawling all over you. I suppose it's always easier to hate than it is to love, and that the closer you look, the finer the line between the two really is.

PISCES FEB 19-MAR 20
Have you ever been out shopping for doll suits and just decided to arbitrarily follow someone? It's actually a really fun way to kill a Saturday afternoon. Remember, you're not trying to scare them, you're just trying to keep them in sight. This is a very good way to distract yourself from your real problems. You have 
those, right, Pisces?

ARIES MAR 21-APR 19
Why create original stuff when you can just use a photocopier and then sell it like you made it? Now that's how you get rich, my friend. You see, Aries, the world doesn't really want new things, it just wants to see old things again, in a different light. That's why you should buy a flashlight.

TAURUS APR 20-MAY 20
Loud Hawaiian shirts are actually pretty important in a man's life. Not so much in a woman's. The trick is not having too much yellow. Too much yellow will make you look sick. Lavender, that's the secret weapon. Man, that lavender, like a Sudbury sunset on a summer night. Is this your first time at this laundromat, Taurus?

Taurus Apr 20-May 20
Dr. Johnny Fever has always been one of my life's guiding saints. His dasein living-in-the-present radio candor should be a lesson to all thinking human beings: when in doubt, say what you mean and mean what you say. We should all be so lucky, Taurus, to have the spiritual clarity of a sitcom character.

Gemini May 21-June 20
You can't force a tagline, Gemini; you can't sit down one day and just start saying, "That's the way the cookie melts," or "Sometimes the bear gets you." The best things in this life happen naturally, have their own escape velocity from our mundane inertia. Sometimes you gotta let the dough rise on its own!

Cancer June 21-July 22
Be a pest. Be a jerk. Be a squeaky wheel, Cancer, because between you and me, you need the grease. You've tried to be reasonable, tried to be diplomatic, and it's just not working. Now's the time to bring out your angry reserves; to yell and scream and carry on until you get what you want. Stop being a doormat.

Leo July 23-Aug 22
When's the last time you sat down with a bottle of schnapps and listened to the "Ode to Joy" in its entirety? NEVER? Dude, seriously, you owe it to yourself to make a little time and get happy drunk. But before you do, Leo, please make sure to disable all your communication devices. Marriage proposals to exes are not cool.

Virgo Aug 23-Sep 22
Life is a lot like the acting career of Robert Downey, Jr. It can be sublime, cruel, unhinged, rewarding and devastatingly, soul-crushingly shabby. But through it all, the best in us gets up every morning, pulls back a Tequila Sunrise, and heads to the gym. Maybe you should stay away from Hollywood, Virgo.

Libra Sept 23-Oct 22
A young Gallagher (or Maybe Carrot Top?) once said, "Prop comedy is not possible after the Holocaust." And yet they persisted, taking mallet to watermelon night after night, thrilling us with their transubstantiation of crushed fruit into human joy, remaking the human experience in their own image. Also, Libra, Carrot Top is ripped, right?

Scorpio Oct 23-Nov 21
I saw a couple of hipsters at a Bedford Avenue kabuki joint working out the geisha's tip on an abacus. I'm serious. The abacus is the latest avant-elite bohemian signifier to make an appearance in fancy-pants Brooklyn, with mini-sized protocalculators lashed to the belts of the skinny asymmetricals everywhere. Pretty cool, if you ask me, Scorpio.

Sagittarius Nov 22-Dec 21
What's next, Sagittarius? Are they going to ban waterskiing? I'm sick and tired of the government trying to ban my recreational activities, claiming "that's just not what America's about." Really? Well I'm an (naturalized) American, and I beg to differ. (Oh. That's not what waterboarding is? Ok.)

Capricorn Dec 22-Jan 19
A deep rumbling belly hunger can be good for the soul, CApricorn. All too easily do we drift into quotidian complacency, blithely entitled, forgetting all the work and effort that brings us our water, our food, our power. It's good now and again to have to carry your own water, and grow your own food. Get your hands dirty, again.

Aquarius Jan 20-Feb 18
Knowing your enemy is important, Aquarius. Vilifying and "monsterizing" him to the point of inhumanity serves little but the basest desires in the worst of us. Because you see, he is us and we are him. Oh, we are capable of miracles on Earth, but we are also capable of unleashing Hell on one another. So don't delude yourself.

Pisces Feb 19-Mar 20
Sleep. Glorious sleep. We remake ourselves every night as we sleep. Our cells divide, our brains reboot, our toenails grow. Sleep is a gift, a retreat. Our dreams tell us who we are, who we want to be, and what we might do. So if you could turn down that fucking radio, Pisces, I might be able to get a little shut eye.

Aries Mar 21-Apr 19
I once saw a freshly hewn leg of lamb covered in deer ticks: they were all swollen to the size of cat's eye Marbles. It was both horrifying and beautiful, an expression of life in the universe, contingent and determined—and yes, I threw up in my hands. That which disgusts us, Aries, can sometimes transform us.