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(Dec. 22-Jan. 20)

Ah Capricorn: the goat. A living, breathing walking garbage disposal and muncher of children’s pants pockets. You are dependable, Capricorn. As loyal as you are gullible, you’re a beacon of hope to friends in need of an ear. As with any respectable trash receptacle, my friend, your role is to lean your head back, open your mouth, and let the garbage flow in—metaphorically speaking. I recommend you welcome the opportunity to become a dumping ground for the woes of others. After all, what do you really have going on anyway? I know that puzzle isn’t going to solve itself, but it’s time to put the needs of others before your own. (And any moron knows you start with the edges and corners first.) Because you will never be successful enough to suffer, you should absorb the suffering of those who haven’t given up on life.


(Jan. 21-Feb. 19)

Congratulations, they wrote a song about you. Like 30 years ago, which is a metaphor for where you’re at in life. You’re outdated. Even if you’re brand, spanking new, you’re old. Your energy smells like VapoRub and overripe cheese. It’s all in your sign: water carrier. We have indoor plumbing now, and shiny faucets that you twist clockwise for water. I suppose your job is to avail yourself of indoor plumbing, and consider traveling to a country that’s not so fortunate, a country that’s as backwards as your energy. You can help one another. Also the fact that you’re an air sign but a water carrier is confusing.
I’d work on that.


(Feb. 20-March 20)

There are a lot of possibilities for you out there right now. Herbert Hoover said, “All men are equal before fish.” That might be important. What’s more important, Pisces, is deciding what kind of fish you want to be. Take into account the fact that your sign is two fish, rather than one. Also, a flounder is born with its eyes on either side of its head. Then the eyes rotate so the flounder can trudge around the sea floor for scraps—think about it. I wouldn’t be an anchovy if I were you, they’re too fishy. But if you’re determined, you might want to pay a visit to the Monterey Bay Aquarium for a quick view of your salty brethren. In my humble opinion, it’s best to be a marlin, swordsman of the ocean. Of course, if you do take this route, make sure you don’t make waste of your more obvious natural tools.


(March 21-April 20)

If there was ever an excuse to bully or barrel your way through life, it’s a set of curly horns. That, combined with the fact that you’re a fire sign, pretty much gives you license to behave in any manner you please. In case you’re not up on your farm terminology, a ram is “an uncastrated male sheep.” If I were you, I’d make it my priority to retain that innate fire, which means avoiding farmers with large clippers. Also, consider feeding the fire by indulging your healthier interests or passions. Personally, I enjoy rollerblading. I also have a tank of lobsters I’m training for the circus. Just some food for thought.

(April 21-May 20)

You might be surprised to discover that the bull has a number of associations dating as far back as 17,000 years ago. The one that alarms me the most with regard to your future is its association with fertility. Without casting any aspersions on your gene pool, I’ve taken it upon myself to research various contraceptive methods on your behalf. There’s a long list of possibilities, but I’m going to simplify matters and recommend you pay a visit to Planned Parenthood to discuss your own particular needs. It pays to be prepared. Also, when in doubt, follow the simpler path. And keep your knees closed.


(May 21-June 20)

A sage acquaintance once said, “Well, monkeys are a lot smaller than people.” It sounds obvious, but that’s the genius of the statement. Sometimes, people forget about the obvious because they’re so busy focusing on minute details and facts. Take it from me: Facts are overrated. Monkeys are much more interesting than facts. So it surprised me that whoever rigged this whole astrological sign thing forgot to make a monkey sign. The Chinese calendar has monkeys. So why not ours? Gemini, consider yourself an honorary monkey. You’re curious, buoyant, and prone to flinging feces when angered, which really bespeaks a resourcefulness that’s quite compelling.



(June 21-July 21)

I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you: Life dealt you a bum hand. Your sign is the crab, drawn to look like a 69, which is a pretty obvious suggestion that you should watch out for STDs. On top of that, your birthday just happened, which means you have to wait another 12 months till you once again get the chance to self-importantly rip open presents and gorge yourself on birthday cake. But I’ve got a little tip for you, Cancer: If you require a “legitimate” excuse to celebrate, then you’re not thinking imaginatively enough. Any day of the week, any victory, good news, or simply crossing paths with a friend—if you have any—is worth celebrating. So stop whining and go load up on shots of Jager before the college students get back and suck all the alcohol out of the county like an oil company in
Huasna Valley.


(July 22-Aug. 22)

It’s our birthday! At least, close to it. Perhaps you can help me resolve a little dilemma, since you’re probably facing the same quandary yourself. Do I celebrate somewhere exotic like Bakersfield or Fresno, or stick closer to home and allow my adoring fans to throw me a soiree worthy of my genius? There are benefits to both. Bakersfield is warm and dry, and always makes me appreciate home that much more when I return. Ditto for Fresno. But if I stay home, I miss out on a themed Dora the Explorer birthday party. This one may take some time to decide, but I’m pretty sure there’s a lesson in all of this. Something about not bitching when you’ve got a Three Musketeers in one hand, a Milky Way in the other, and you have to make a tough call. Either way, your mouth is full of sugary goodness.

Sorry, I got caught up in my own stuff there. What were you saying?


(Aug. 23-Sept. 22)

You may be tempted to lament, dear Virgo, the fact that your zodiac symbol is a virgin. Consider that the constellation Virgo that haunts celestial skies is Astraea, goddess of justice: a virgin. This isn’t my usual tune, but there may be something to be said for abstinence, on occasion. And not just abstinence from the obvious activities that the church and morals brigade would like to see people drawn and quartered for engaging in. Abstinence can also be seen as taking a break from the activities and habits that typically fill your day. Not a permanent departure. Just enough to shake things up a little and see if there isn’t something you like better. Sometimes it’s easier to focus on bigger-picture goals—like being able to eat Cheetos with your toes or trying to coordinate the world’s longest conga line—when you set aside the smaller stuff cluttering your path.


(Sept. 23-Oct. 22)

There are two types of people in this world: winners and losers. You’re a spectator. Sitting on the sidelines. Noshing on popcorn and Cracker Jacks. Too timid to leap blindly into the fray and declare your allegiance to whatever side looks like it’s winning at the time. My point is, there’s a time and place for balance. But there also comes a point when sitting on the sidelines and rooting for both teams makes you look like a jackass. It also makes you look scared. Despite what those quack scientists say, life isn’t really all that balanced. Just consider the fact that Paris Hilton was born rich and got richer for being rich, while I type pointlessly away in a sunless dungeon and you’re getting dizzy from switching teams at every goal.


(Oct. 23-Nov. 21)

Consider the scorpion, your particular talisman. It’s equipped with huge grasping claws, four sets of legs, four or more pairs of eyes, a thick protective exoskeleton, and a venomous stinger at its back end. When you consider that all animals essentially evolved to survive, you have to commend the scorpion for doing a bang-up job. Especially when you compare the scorpion to something as seemingly defenseless as the butterfly. But which do people like more? I’ve never seen fanny-packed tourists scurrying to let a scorpion land on their fingers. Besides, who needs evolution these days? I say wuss out, scorpion, and emulate the butterfly.


(Nov. 22-Dec. 21)

The Killers asked “Are we human, or are we dancer?” I don’t know what the hell they meant—and their grammar sucks—but they seem to be implying that the two are incompatible and are forcing us to choose. I don’t think either is a very good option. I’m a terrible dancer, and I’m rather bored of being human. I’d like to try something else for a while. (Pandas seem to have a pretty sweet deal going for them.) Still, it’s nice of them to ask, I suppose. When confronted with two unsavory or not-terribly-imaginative options, I advocate creating a third. Use whatever you have at hand to carve your new path, even if it’s just a plastic spoon. That’s how we got the spork, after all.


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