Capricorn Dec 22-Jan 19
I recently discovered the existence of something called a “muffin top.” I am not, Capricorn, referring to surplus thoracic lipids hanging out over the Jordache cliff—no, no, not that. I’m talking about a baked good meant to mimic the “best part” of the muffin, the sweet, crunchy top. Ugh. I hate muffins, and I hate muffin tops. I might even hate you.
Aquarius Jan 20-Feb 18
Just stay alive, Aquarius. Stay alive and I will find you. Even if we’re just temporarily separated at Ikea. Unless you end up in Smaland. Then we’re both fucked.
Pisces Feb 19-Mar 20
I’m pretty sick of circus-inspired marching bands. I’m also sick of dogs in strollers. But mostly I’m just really sick of Tuesdays. They’re supposed to be the most productive days, but they’re actually the most depressing. Tuesdays are like April. Cruel and full of hope. If it’s Tuesday, Pisces, stay in bed.
Aries Mar 21-Apr 19
When I was 12, my friend got Public Enemy tickets. I was really excited to go, but as the night approached, I got more and more anxious. It seemed really daunting to go into the city and go to a grown-up rap concert. So the morning of the show, I pretended I had a sore throat. It’s the lamest thing I’ve ever done, Aries, and I still regret it.
Taurus Apr 20-May 20
All that shit you keep talking about, Taurus, that you’re going to do with your life? If you don’t do it in the next two years, you’re fucked. And another thing—STOP TALKING ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO DO. It’s embarrassing everybody.
Gemini May 21-June 20
I hated that Tom Hanks movie where he lives in an airport. You know why, Gemini? Because I want to live in an airport. Mainly because everyone is excited to be going on vacation or being reunited or coming home. Also, the tiny, tiny bottles of booze.
Cancer June 21-July 22
Now that Christmas and its be-tinseled despair is past us, it’s time to buck up and fly right… As usual, Cancer, you probably slept with an elf and threw up on Santa and did all kinds of terrible things, but hell, let’s just look forward shall we? Try not to fuck up MLK Day too badly, ok?
Leo July 23-Aug 22
Do you sometimes think you are a ghost, Leo? A lost soul attached to this mean little ball of dirt, startling cats and frightening spinsters, rattling cabinets and making the TV all fuzzy? What if you’re haunting your own life and you don’t even know it? That would be fucked up.
Virgo Aug 23-Sep 22
You find yourself alone in a forest. You’ve just woken up in a rusted out old VW van. You’re wearing vintage Dutch sanitation coveralls (which, awesome!). You have a gun in your hand and blood on your shirt. What do you do, Virgo? Remember, the moss grows on the north side of the tree.
Libra Sept 23-Oct 22
It’s hard to fit a square peg into a round hole, Libra, but, you know, IT’S NOT IMPOSSIBLE. Maybe instead of enumerating all the reasons why it can’t be done, you should start thinking of how it can be done. Instead of NO all the time, you should start thinking YES. You and I both know it comes down to a bigger hammer.
Scorpio Oct 23-Nov 21
Ah, all those days and weeks and months that flow past us into the great night of forgetting… Our lives, Scorpio, constituent of the smallest of moments, are infinite, like the immeasurable coastlines of Norway. And then they are over.
Sagittarius Nov 22-Dec 21
Everyone should wait tables at some point. Even if you don’t need the money, Sagittarius, you could use the humility. Also, I think I would really enjoy ordering a bowl of soup from you, off the menu: “PEA SOUP,” I would say, and wink.
Image Wayne Thiebaud