The last horoscope we wrote was in July 2017. We know that the intervening year has been like something out of a Kafka novel, and we’re pretty sure it’s because we stopped offering the world our unassailable cosmic guidance. Without further ado, here’s your horoscope:
Aries: Your spouse is so angry at you leaving skidmarks in your drawers again, they plan on screaming at you about it at the July 4th BBQ. You will know if there is anything that can be done to prevent this. (There isn’t).
Taurus: Have you ever been to Best Buy™? The best place to spend time with your family is at Best Buy™. They have computers, home entertainment systems. Windows™ 10™ is fucking terrible, and it comes preinstalled on all their laptops.
Gemini: Seriously, this computer has crashed like 10 times while I was trying to write this horoscope. Goddamnit, Best Buy™! Microsoft Edge™ claims to be the fastest browser, and if you’re going to crash, I guess you want to be going fast, for a painless death.
Cancer: We saw you throw that giagantic McDonald’s™ cup filled with ice and soda out of the window of your Mustang™ as the first riff from “Bad To The Bone” by George Thorogood™ and the Destroyers™ blared from your open speaker of your roofless vehicle as you peeled out of the Staples™ parking lot. Who the fuck do you think you are? Are you the coach to the “bad guy” team in a 90’s sports film?
Leo: Cleanliness is next to Godliness™. Do you think you are God™? You are. We all are. We are all made of stars.
Virgo: There is no ethical consumption under capitalism™. Buy the cheapest shit you can find, use it to keep yourself alive, use it as a tool to fight the fascists, die whenever, we are all cogs in a horrible dying machine, let’s fight like hell for a world worth living™ in.
Libra: On your next kayaking trip, take a bungee jump, and see where things go. Bungee kayak™.
Scorpio: If you didn’t want to get squished, you shouldn’t have slept in my boot. That’s advice you can take to the bank, pardner™.
Sagittarius: Get your field hockey stick out, and start a fucking riot. Your Marxist feminist dialectical analysis brings all the boys to the yard.
Capricorn: Oh boy, it’s going to be a scorcher today. You know what that means: bra filled with ice cream time.
Aquarius: We need a random number. 38? Perfect! That’s the best one! How about a billion and 42? Man, that number sucks. 42 is not random. We all know that. In the dope show.
Pisces: People say that Marilyn Manson, got his ribs removed, so that he could suck is own dick. That is not true. But Mike Pence got his ribs surgical removed, so he could prove that he’s not gay, by not sucking his own dick all the time. He referenced Gandhi, saying that Gandhi would sleep with young girls, supposedly not have sex with them, as a testament of his will. Which is bullshit. Also, Gandhi could suck his own dick. And he did it all the time.