Taurus April 20 - May 20
This is your week to throw down!
Take that however you will, just be sure to place soft foam mats on the ground around which the throwing will go on.

Leo July 23 - August 22
Like a worm popping off into a cocoon and emerging a butterfly, your tongue will feel like it's covered with cotton (or silk, if you're a silkworm-analogous kind of person) on Tuesday, which reveals to you the perils of either drinking whatever you drank on Monday evening or the perils of going around licking cocoons.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
You really wish the patron saint of your hometown, Fred, would emulate Saint Patrick (his role model, so he says) by driving all the snakes out of town, rather than all of the otters.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
The way bees collect honey and refine it into a low grade of gold popular for use in Swiss watches for the little tiny cogs that control the third hour of the day (AM or PM), you should nurture those skills inside yourself that most resemble honey. If you eat a lot of toast and honey, there you go, you have the thing you need to refine already with minimal extra thought.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
Cucumbers, when left around for a long time in a jar of vinegar apparently become pickles.
Like a cucumber marinating into a pickle so too will you see improvement in your social interaction skills, despite smelling vaguely of vinegar.

Cancer June 21 - July 22
An electrostatic charge is one of Nature's shiniest electrical miracles.
You cannot, however, build a reliable refridgerator using a VandeGraaf generator (even though refridgerator and generator both end in -erator), so your week's work is a nice way to pass the time but largely useless.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
You have visitors this week!
Whether they be aliens (illegal or not), an infestation of termites, your parents, a friend you've not seen for thirty seven years, or simply a new imaginary friend moves in this week, seeing your advert in the paper for a vacancy, explore your potential for turning visitors into lead, as the old myth goes about alchemists.

Aries March 21 - April 19
And there goes your hair.
A bird cries on the horizon.

Libra September 23 - October 22
The letter 'w' is the most popular letter to use to kick off a word if you intend to convey excitement, promise, and that certain 'wahey-ness'.
NB: this does not work well with words like, say, 'poisonous deadly snake' as that comes out looking like 'woisonous weadly wnake', which sounds ridiculous and I don't even have the faintest idea how to pronounce that last word.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
If Life were a bowl of chocolates your bowl would be missing a horoscope.
And the chocolates with the caramel filling. Because I like those and probably would have eaten them first.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
Getting a paper cut on the middle finger on your right hand and a mark on your elbow from where you were resting it on top of the spiral part of a spiral notebook do not count as the stigmata, so stop running around showing everyone how you're a stigmatic now.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
New evidence supports your theory that the Mayans didn't all leave their homes and villages.
Your confusion of the Mayans with the French possibly explains the Mayans non-disappearance, though it still doesn't explain why the entire mythical land of Spain sank into the ocean many many years ago.

[Horoscopes. Seattle Earthquake Blamed on Open Source ]

[NB. Any and all science in this week's horoscope is based on wild conjecture and not guaranteed to produce the same results for yourself, namely, turning things into pickles, doing your washing, making you better looking; so don't blame us if it all goes horribly wrong. We're almost mostly certain the thing about bees and Swiss watchmakers is wrong, thinking about it now, though if it works for you feel free to drop us a line at horoscopes@sanemagazine.com and let us know how your attempts went. This is not to dampen anyone's scientific enthusiasm but only to serve as a reminder that we may or may not know what we're talking about in the realms of scientific enquiry and that it should be taken with a grain of salt, and even then expected results when adding salt to other substances should not be assumed to perform in exactly the same manner or in an otherwise expected fashion or even timezone (though of course if you're in a different timezone you should expect things to act accordingly with previous attempts in the aforementioned timezone). Due to the possibility of unexpectedness in the reaction/results, eyeglasses should be worn at all times, which is a handy rule to live by, anyway, as you never know when you're going to be in danger of having things explode or otherwise threaten your eyes. You may look stupid, but think of the joy that will well up in your heart when you're able to rather smugly peel off your glasses, appraise them with a fond look in your eyes, and proclaim that if it weren't for the glasses you'd have been missing an eye or something. You can probably even get slightly more creative than that, and, depending on your personality, the manner in which you deliver your proclamation can take on quite a few different forms.
Though horoscopes are a part of the natural world the personal view of a few people polled was that they were a good deal less bound to natural laws like gravity and speed of light constants than, for example, rocks were, as you could quite handily try out natural laws on things like rocks (though speed of light constants are possibly a little more difficult to try out on your own, and hence just as dodgy and worthy of skepticism as gravity on stars). Stars you can't. So you have to have this sort of trusting attitude towards those people bent on telling you about gravity acting on stars and things like that. For those of you interested in finding about more about the science (both techniques, fields, and schools of thought) employed either in this issue or in Sane Magazine in general may wish to mail your request for The Science Behind Sane Magazine Science: A Boy, His Dog Named Roy, and a Particle Accelerator Also Named Roy to books@sanemagazine.com or by sending a self-addressed stamped envelope to Sane Magazine Science Book c/o q.i.productions, Studio Two, 37 Edith Grove, London SW10 0LB, United Kingdom. For more general information on science and other things like that there might be books about that, as well. Rocks and such are available from a ground nearby.]