CANCER (JUNE 21-JULY 22) - Hey moneybags, can I have your number come August because it looks like soooooomeboody's entering a neww taaaax braaackeett *blows noisemaker* which means you are now afforded luxuries the pleebs will never know: hiring pet psychics, knowing where St. Thomas is, and "only asking" cause you're "just curious" why the poor can't "better themselves" because "no offense but" your great grandpa worked 90-hour weeks at the button factory til' he bought the button factory so its not that hard lol like what is a factory even, it gave ol' poppy pop such arthritis, good thing they've got these nimble lil ragamuffins in China handling that stuff, what talented workers.
For more information about Apple products please visit www.apple.com.
LEO (JULY 23-AUGUST 22) - Jupiter in your sign for the next year makes you feel #blessed, but the universe gives what it gets (I made that up) so this is not the time to be a dick to anyone cause you never know how they may relate to you. What if God was one of us? Just a stranger on the bus? Trying to sneak His hand up your skirt? And you pause your Glee album to be like DUDE what the FVCK and you're so ready to roundhouse Him or do that cool thing where you swing from the overhead bar and kick Him in the face when He transforms and is like, "Chill man, I'm God, look at this fvcking robe I got, and I was but blessing your uterus my child, so it may go forth and fill the earth with holy capitalists. Behold!" He'll say, "I shall turn your birth control pills into wafers that turn into my son's dead skin (Jesus has to lather on the Eucerin you don't get it), and here's a gift card to Hobby Lobby, why don't you paper maché yourself a nice chastity belt."
Sidenote: How come I always had to get dressed up for church when God goes to work in a robe? Is this one of those "I'm the boss but ya'll can relax but not really" ploys? That never works man that's like Management 101 and you say you created everything - ("But not the leather jogging pant," chimes Kanye) - pffffft.
VIRGO (AUGUST 23-SEPTEMBER 22) - You're making a real effort to be social and expand your circle, not like your Google+ circle (that's for Capricorns) and not like your Myspace whore-train (that's for Geminis) but IRL social events like clubs that revolve around a hobby or nights devoted to a single card game the way people used to when human interaction was the only option, unlucky fucks right? You love that shiz. You were afterall secretly born an old person; if your soul had a texture, it would be seersucker. If it had a smell, Bob Evans between 3 and 6 pm. A taste? Unbuttered toast. A sound? Nothing you could hear anymore, now now, why don't you just hum along to ragtime or whatever but keep it down please, Drake's on.
LIBRA (SEPTEMBER 23-OCTOBER 22) - Its going to be a low-key month for you, Leebs - til about the 26th - but let's leave that a surprise. Here are some things to do: 1. Watch "I Wanna Marry Harry" on Hulu. You'll wonder why you live in this country at all, and dissent is patriotic. Happy 4th of .. wait what month is it?
SCORPIO (OCTOBER 23-NOVEMBER 21) - Visits with foreign or unfamiliar people are a factor in your forecast this July. One day you're cutting up with yer lovable gang of high school cronies behind the A&P, drinking cherry sodas, making fun of Old Man Dillington, business as usual, and suddenly an interplanetary scamp gets lost on the way back to his home planet and crash lands in front of you. He jazzes things up for a night, causing all sorts of hijinks to ensue, and then dips out quick as he came after announcing his return in the far future. Oh wait shit, that's not your horoscope lol that's a rough, half-remembered synopsis of a "Happy Days" episode.
SAGITTARIUS (NOVEMBER 22-DECEMBER 21) - At the end of the month you may find yourself in a sort of personally-imposed exile, whether you need a break from the world or you simply just escaped from federal prison and need to go to Taiwan for plastic surgery on your fugitive-ass face, no matter, we all gotta get away for a while, rehabilitate our Qi, revitalize our chakras, marry a Taiwanese plastic surgeon under your neighbor's dead wife's name, do what you gotta do. Just know this: you can never go back, not anywhere and especially not to America, not for the 1st annual Game of Thrones US fandom meet-up, not if the Cubs clinch the World Series, not when a black lesbian is voted president of New America. You made your choice, bucko.
CAPRICORN (DECEMBER 22-JANUARY 19) - The spirit of humanitarianism dances about your chart like a Real Housewife who took too many Vicodin on the plane to Hawaii dances about the native cabana boy after her third producer-comped Manhattan. You should look into them real housewives cause they're all about charity: charity means charity events, means C-list photographers, means your friends bring people you didn't count for in the catering order, means extra work in the end for Guadalupe. But she's fine. If she passes out, just prop her against something. I think charity will be great for you. Look into the Werewolf Support Alliance of the American Southwest; they are under-funded and under-staffed, and did you know how triggering it is for Werewolves to walk around in a world that's all nambly-pamply about leaving silver everywhere? Or you could volunteer with the Sugar Baby Literacy and Outreach Association, which provides basic reading lessons to 18-24 year old Express sales associates or whatever it is they do when they don't have The Black Card Daddy (Not My Real Father) Got Me. There are lots of options for you, Cappy, you're great at helping people.
If a werewolf you know is struggling with his or her condition and would like help in keeping track of moon cycles or finding the right pair of silver-proof gloves (strong and yet discreet), please visit HelpImAWerewolf.com for your free information packet.
Likewise: Are you a Sugar Baby struggling with basic phonics? Do you get embarrassed when your SD asks you to read him the business trip itinerary and he says, "That's okay, use your finger to trace the sentences as you go...That's right, sound it out, 'continental breakfast,' you got it! But we won't eat continental will we?" And you feel in that moment that he understands you, your eyes shimmer with tears, you are so thankful? If this sounds like you, how are you reading this?
Related charity: "Fabbing the Cradle:" a drive to provide every malnourished infant in the world with one (1) Chanel wristlet. Today the wrists of babes! Tomorrow the fops of the future!
AQUARIUS (JANUARY 20-FEBRUARY 18) - You're as mentally awake as a long-haul truck driver pulling out of the rest stop with Free Bird at top volume, a stray bead of crystal on his lip, disjointed memories of the shrivel-faced lady companion who gave it to him in the rest stop motel. But that's all over now and now your brain is going PEW PEW PEW EVERYBODY GET THE FVCK DOWN I AM A BRAIN. Of course this is metaphorical (I hope), but you really are at the top of your mental game like Trebek just started the question and you're all WHAT IS LATVIA (what is it tho...). Hey, you could sign up for a game show, but I don't recommend it; that shit's for white folks, like shoplifting from Free People, or getting caught with weed.
PISCES (FEBRUARY 19-MARCH 20) - Do not consider anything in this world not to be worth learning about. One day a troll might wager his troll gold that you can't name the Jolie-Pitt children in order of appearance, and you'll be like Pax Maddox Zahara Shiloh Vivienne Knox. And that troll gold is yours. You're welcome.
ARIES (MARCH 21-APRIL 19) - I would tell you to stop being so competitive all the time but you're so good at winning games that if it were Silent Chairs instead of Musical, with a few well-placed elbows you'd still be the last one sitting in that motherfvcker. I can't tell you to do shit cause one day you'll be a captain of industry, and you'll email me and be like "look Pandora I'm a captain of industry, I succeeded, screw you." And all I will have to say from the depths of my witchy lair will be whispered ever so softly at my croneputer and heard by no one: more like captain of my butthole.
TAURUS (APRIL 20-MAY 20) - Past upsets seem to evaporate out of nowhere. You are discovering those things that are truly relevant to your life - travel, home, beauty - and also those that are no longer relevant to you or anyone: Cingulair, one-shoulder tube tops, Dov Charney. Thank Yeezus Dov's done or else us ladies might still be tryna get laid by aging bespectacled creeps with a dingy white backdrop and one Holga in his brownstone so he can "practice" "photography." Maybe this will represent a shift in the heterosexual aesthetic. Maybe it will be cool to like metal-heads again so everyone can stop making fun of me. I think that's what I'm getting at.
GEMINI (MAY 21-JUNE 20) - You're living the carefree life of a recently divorced GameStop manager this month, except without all the waking-up-with-takeout-on-your-MMO-headset or the hangup calls made to college exes after taking too much Benadryl. You're all good where that's concerned but be prepared to suddenly make a lot of bizarre changes. You'll dye your hair a platinum blond; you'll join a weight-lifting club and take it seriously and smile inwardly at the image of your soft yet capable forearms flexing to cradle a grocery bag or small child or large hoagie. Just put the child back where you found it.