Aquarius Jan 20-Feb 18
Soon, Aquarius, soon your long trial will be over. We’ll finish up the last tasks, put away the floor buffer, fluff the pillows, put our feet up, and watch the shit out of Downton Abbey. They say life is always complicated, always busy. But you know what? Sometimes it can be pleasant, relaxing, and fun. Let’s get to that place, yes?

Pisces Feb 19-Mar 20
Goodbye, Pisces. You were a pretty fascinating creature in your time, a paradox of propriety and pugnacity, surprising, funny, occasionally wonderfully mean and, perpetually, full of deep, constant feeling. Not exactly sure where you’re going, if anywhere, but I’m glad you were here.

Aries Mar 21-Apr 19
You should probably stop writing important to-do notes on your hands, Aries: they look like the inside of a 1981 A train. It’s a funny curse, having non-erasable skin, having to deal daily with the palimpsest flotsam of errands done and undone. But let these mementos of failure gird your resolve.

Taurus Apr 20-May 20
Frozen waterfalls are awesome, like, mad-sick awesome: dude, it’s falling water, falling water, frozen in place. If that’s not just a rad metaphor for something rad, I don’t know what is. Do you know any rad metaphors, Taurus? Like, say, an amphibious monster truck crashing a hoity-toity regatta? Yeah, awesome.

Gemini May 21-June 20
We’re making pretty good time, Gemini—at this rate, we’ll be in Richmond before dawn. The first thing I’m going to do is head to Couchie’s (rhymes with “ouchies,” not, you know…) and get myself a plate of cabbage rolls and a large rum and Coke, and I’m going to tell about the dream I just had, in which you finally work up the courage to break out on your own (you’re so happy in this dream, dude).

Cancer June 21-July 22
Home and home. Do you know what I mean when I say that, Cancer? It’s a sports term describing back-to-back games between the same teams, played, respectively in their home arenas. I think you should start applying it to your romantic life, mix things up a bit, get outside your comfort zone…

Leo July 23-Aug 22
Dear Creepy Van that’s been parked out front of my building for three days, you’re probably perfectly innocent, but you should really know how incredibly malevolent you appear, with those dark tiny porthole windows and your rusted-out runners. You might as well write “pervert” on the side, to complete the cliché. Sometimes, Leo, appearances aren’t deceiving.

Virgo Aug 23-Sep 22
Did you know, Virgo, that if you took all the unused, barely tended “extra” space in New York City—all the wild medians and overgrown null spaces—you’d have a green space three times the size of Central Park? Everything is fucked, dude.

Libra Sept 23-Oct 22
I’ve decided to build a small casino in my back yard, Libra. You see, I’m one-32nd indigenous Sami so, by international law, that entitles me to the profits of at least three slot machines, or one slot machine and a roulette wheel. Won’t you come on down to the Läpsatorium and try your hand?

Scorpio Oct 23-Nov 21
Tolls. We all have to pay tolls, Scorpio, whether we realize it or not. But you see, these monies we contribute to the common weal actually help our civilization maintain itself; it is an honorable thing to pay a tax, to build a society—so please stop trying to lower my taxes!

Sagittarius Nov 22-Dec 21
Airport hotels are dark, despairing places, with none of the buoyant sense of occasion that graces your festive downtown hostelries. There’s no sense of exploration, or even anticipation, in these lobbies, just drear resignation amid a sickly hogo of microwaved burritos and gin. So, yeah, don’t become a pilot, Sagittarius.

Capricorn Dec 22-Jan 19
People love to talk about themselves. And you know what? You’re probably as guilty of it as the next guy. So, Capricorn, the next time you’re having a chat, observe yourself: are you merely waiting for your interlocutor to finish so you can return to your story? Do you maniacally provide counterexamples of your own that mirror those of the other? These are bad habits. Try listening for a change.