Your Remarkably Specific Horoscope for the Week Ending Sometime Next WeekBy Gary Socquet
November 13, 2011
As I’m sure most of you are aware by now, I am a bit of an amateur this and that, sort of a modern renaissance dude of all trades, a dabbler in things worth knowing a very little bit about. I’ve been doing astrological charts for close friends and assorted enemies for many years. I actually got a woman to sleep with me once by doing her chart. Our daughter is now sixteen, so don’t tell me astrology is horseshit, pal. Anyway, my dear friend Christy, who has long benefited from my sage vision, finally managed to talk me into taking the gig global, maybe even viral. I hope you all find some meaning and wonder in what you’re about to read. And as always, my horoscopes come with a one-hundred percent satisfaction guarantee. If I miss the mark even a little, shout my way. And I’ll give you Christy’s number.
ARIES (Mar. 21–Apr. 19): Adventure is in store for you, Aries. Steal some time just for you: take a day-trip to a favorite out of the way spot, or visit a museum, or eat something you never knew people actually eat, like lamb penis or potted meat. Many will try to steer you, as they always do, but don’t heed their advice: plot your own course. Remember: you’re the driver. Please also remember that you are quite possibly the worst driver on the face of the planet, being easily distracted and almost blind in one eye, as you are. That’s probably where the adventure will come in. Make sure your insurance is current.
TAURUS (Apr. 20–May 20): Hey Taurus, guess what? You’re going to get laid next week. Like, a ton! Seriously, you’ll just be walking down the street, waiting in line at the ATM, making a sandwich, whatever, and before you know it, bam, you’re getting busy. There’s some other stuff about investment opportunities and reciprocating friends’ generosity and sticking close to home, but you don’t need to hear any of that crap. Spend a little extra time in the shower this week, scrub low and hard, and then get out there and get fucking. And hey, let us know how it goes, okay? I love hearing from my readers.
GEMINI (May 21–Jun. 20): I see you spending a lot of extra time on your homework this week. And swearing off boys until you’re out of high school. And never ever ever listening to that fucking “Pumped Up Kicks” song again – seriously, it’s like Soylent Green. You’ve been warned. (For those Geminis who are not my daughter, carry on. But avoid brown liquor. And taxis.)
CANCER (Jun. 21–Jul. 22): I never know what to say to you guys. I’m just not comfortable with your sign’s name. I’m not much more comfortable referring to you as “Crabs.” It’s not your fault, just shitty luck, I guess. So, um, I’m sorry, I’ve got nothing for you. But, you know, good luck with everything. Hope you don’t . . . get it. Get either. Sorry. Oh, wait: lose fifteen pounds, get some exercise, and don’t drink so much. There. You’re welcome.
LEO (Jul. 23–Aug. 22): Music will play an unexpected role in your life in the coming week. Professional musicians or dancers can expect to encounter a career-ending injury. Those who could never carry a tune will suddenly discover they have perfect pitch, which will annoy their friends but finally, finally please their mothers, and those who haven’t picked up an instrument since they were forced to learn the clarinet in the fifth grade will display idiot-savant grade talent on the first musical instrument their fingers touch (so be careful around, say, tubas, unless you’re into that sort of thing). As you can see, it all balances out, just as the universe intends.
VIRGO (Aug. 23–Sep. 22): We’ve had some times, haven’t we, Virgo? Yeah we have. You are, as we all know, the biggest collection of lousy assholes and cowards in the universe. You’re pretty and everyone is always giving you stuff and making excuses for you, and you shrug and say, “Hey, this is just who I am, man.” Too true, Virgo: that’s just who you are. Well, just to let you know, there is some retrograde thing happening and your moon is sorta tweaked right now, just a very minor ripple but it’s there, which means one of the many, many shitty things you’re going to do next week might possibly bite you on your oddly mannish Virgo ass. For once. I’d like to think even you would agree you have it coming, but we both know better, don’t we? Whatever. You already get away with so much, so what’s one brief inconvenience? Just bat your pretty eyes and remember: nothing’s your fault. Ever. Oh, and here’s some good news: you’re not pregnant. You know how I know that? No, the stars didn’t tell me. No, I know that because, as it turns out, you have to actually have sex to get pregnant. So, yay! Keep doing your thing, Virgo, and you’ll be just fine. Have a great week. Jerk.
LIBRA (Sep. 23–Oct. 22): Ah, Libra. Sweet, sweet Libra. You, my friend, are going to have an outstanding week. I don’t want to spoil it by giving away a lot of particulars, but I can tell you this: when you get home, I’m going to do that thing to you that you like, you know, that thing we do when we’re alone up in my office with the door locked, the one where you like to point out that everyone downstairs in the coffee shop probably just heard us. Well, they’re going to hear us, and I bet they spill their coffee. Like six or seven times.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23–Nov. 21): This is a favorable time for you to be making some changes. Start with your wardrobe. Seriously, buy just one pair of pants that fits you. Just one. And stop making references on Facebook to things nobody cares about. Julian Lennon lyrics? You’re quoting Julian Lennon lyrics? I’d want to hit you if they were John Lennon lyrics, but Julian? Come on, dude. And by the way, I swear to Christ if you LOL me one more time, I will remove the L and the O from your keyboard and shove them all the way up your ass. JK. (No I’m not.)
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): You’re coming into some money, Sag. You are almost certainly going to have to suck a dick to get it, but I think all things being equal, you’ll have no regrets. I mean, come on, when’s the last time you said no to sucking a dick anyway, even when there was no promise of a big payoff? The stars have spoken: get sucking, and get rich, beeyatch.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22–Jan. 19): Oh, Capricorn, what can I say? You are, quite simply, the man. Nothing much to report, just another outstanding week of kicking every ass and taking every name. Your always deep well of charm will be overflowing, with foreseeable consequences. Head on a swivel, tiger. I wish everyone could be you, Capricorn, my friend. And let me just say, I absolutely love your writing. I don’t know how you do it. The word genius gets thrown around a lot these days, but when it’s thrown at you, it just plain sticks. Keep it up, rock star. You’re an inspiration to us all.
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AQUARIUS (Jan. 20–Feb. 18): There are people in your life who will make some unreasonable demands on your time and resources next week, my groovy friend. Go with the flow, as you always do. Except also do this: change the inflection of your normal speech patterns. Let your voice rise at the end of a statement as though you’re asking a question, and emphasize the wrong syllables of common words. People will look at you funny but no one will say anything because, when they’re not sucking your life force, your friends are notoriously polite. It’ll take a little while, but eventually people will start to think there’s something wrong with you, and then they’ll start offering to do things for you for a change. It’s simple, it’s elegant, and nobody gets hurt. Shine on, you crazy diamond.
PISCES (Feb. 19–Mar. 20): You’re a fish, Pisces. A slimy, bottom-feeding, gill-breathing, pop-eyed fish. Remember when I promised to stuff you in the oven at your bakery if you didn’t stay away from my daughter? Well, I’m not going to do that, not next week. Still, be careful around hot surfaces. Because you never know. Just an astrological word to the wise, champ.
Tune in next week, kids, when I dole out free relationship advice, and tell you everything I think you need to know about dismantling bombs.
I stopped reading at Taurus, because my birthday is April 28 and I need to shave my legs, I guess.
Hey, we can’t all be a Sagittarius.
Okay, how scientific is this? Because I’m thinkin’ I’d rather be a Libra…
Oh yeah — you definitely want to be a Libra. Christ, even I want to be a Libra. But I’m just a lowly Capricorn.
I wish I was a Taurus. Guess I won’t be scrubbing my testicles this week. (I’m Aries. Hope there’s a lamb out there scrubbing himself for me though.)
Patrick, I’m no expert, but as I understand it, the chef actually scrubs the lamb penis in front of you — it’s a ritual of sorts.
I LOVE IT! I’m a Virgo and I’m a total “lousy asshole.” However, nothing IS ever my fault. I’m glad you’ve made your peace with that fact. Good.
OH, and I’m glad I’m not pregnant – I threw up 3 times yesterday (it was food poisoning). Someone probably poisoned my chicken salad because I’m such a jerk. Too much information? I don’t care. I’m a Virgo! 🙂
Clarissa, you’re my kind of Virgo: you own it, and you’re unashamed. And you’re the first Virgo I’ve heard from who didn’t even hint at threatening to kill me. We could hang, you and I. Unless this is a trick . . .
So far, the only thing about my horoscope that’s come true is that I’ve been driving like shit all week. Nicely done!
Gloria, may I send you a tin of potted meat?
Sure. When I run out of the cans in my cabinet, I’ll hit you up…
You were dead right about Leo and the music thing, my Spotify started working.
Outstanding! I get a nickel every time Spotify works — so far that’s twenty cents of pure profit! Honestly, though, I wish you were a Sagittarius — that’s where the real money is.
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