horoscopes

for January 11 - 17

Taurus April 20 - May 20
Soap operatically delicious!
You receive a frantic phone call at 3 in the afternoon, an odd time for a frantic phone call, indeed, from Elisabeth, asking if you knew that your purported Italian lover was neither Italian nor your lover, but instead a Flemish butcher. You tell her, Yes, we'd been over that quite a bit, and I'm, frankly, sick of talking about it.
Guiseppe, ironically in a non-Alanis Morrisette kind of way, in that it's almost real irony, catches a quick and oh so fatal case of Cabin Fever, from a family of pleasant enough Russian immmigrants. This means you get back the silver locket you'd given him as a good luck charm, the fake will he'd made out is the only remaining testament to where his estate should be dispersed, and to whom, and, while you get £48, you feel slightly jilted by the camel, who got the house, trip for two to Bath, and Guiseppe's entire collection of Mamas and the Papas records.
The reading of your great third-uncle Boffo's will doesn't go much better; David Hasselhoff, whom Boffo had never met but watched regularly on television, gets everything.

Leo July 23 - August 22
You feel a bit jealous of Tauri, who got this huge bloody story about soap opera-like stuff, and it has you wishing the horoscope writer used your horoscope as the warm-up exercise to the weekly go.
As it is, you're usually left with commentary on the jagged first horoscope, and feel vaguely snubbed. For this, we offer Leos all over the world a free coupon to any sanemagazine sponsored massage parlour for a free massage, and nothing else, even if they offer it, or if what someone else has ordered has mistakenly appeared in your room wrapped in absolutely nothing but a nice warm, soft mist. Because who wants soggy pizza?

Virgo August 23 - September 22
A store-bought package of tea will speak to you this week. This is as opposed to the tea that you had been specially growing at home, if you happen to be an Indian Virgo.
Now, I know what you're thinking, "Ha ha, how cute, yeah, there's a quote from Emerson or Alexander Pope or William Boroughs or someone on the box of tea, what a cop-out." But I mean that you will hear a package of tea actually, loony-bin type of speak to you. It will say, "Take me to your leader," and when you try to return the package to the store at which you bought it, claiming it's entirely too far past it's expiration date, as it's acquired langauge, the tea will assume Bill, the market manager, is your leader, and attempt to initiate high-level negotiations between the tea people and the human race. Bill, luckily, is also taking some international politics courses at the local university, or the world crisis that surely would have ensued would have been your fault for not taking the tea to the proper authorities.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
Transportation is a big deal this week, as you realise that you are always being transported somewhere, even if it just be from the bedroom to the toilet and then back, with a quick stop at the television to see that plate of food you'd left on top of it hasn't spoiled too much just yet. And you realise that transportation is so much more than we ever think to imagine, so so very much more.
If you're a celebrity chapped lips will plague you this week, as if some pestilence for your good fortune. Which is a sound comparison, until you see your neighbour's yard covered with locusts.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
Your ears still ringing from a Jesus and Mary Chain concert four years ago, you visit a bar this week, sit down, have a drink, watch people, strike up conversations with people, the bartender, whomever, and even dare to play a song on the jukebox in the corner.
By the end of the evening, alas, you find yourself having to fight a duel to the death, over a not-so small argument which began over whose elbow was touching whose, and the metaphysics of incidental v. coincidental v. intentional contact and previous occupation of space, and it's effect on the ozone layer around your heads.

Cancer June 21 - July 22
This week you have or develop a habit of cleaning your teeth with paper after meals.
You start doing it because you saw Cary Grant do it in a movie, once, and your older brother, who would never let you play with him and all his reindeer friends, is quite adept at it. Needless to say, you, a piece of heavy corporate stationary, and bits of refried bean-skins make you an almost irresistable bundle of lovin' for members of any sex.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
Though you're absolutely convinced (and then you notice that there are an awful lot of absolutes always being bandied about in sanemagazine horoscopes, which, while comforting, is also disconcerting, if something can be comforting and disconcerting at the same time, disconcerting because it takes all the mystery out of life and your week, and we all like a bit of mystery sometimes, like Donald E. Westlake, or Sherlock Holmes, or P.D. James, though not, heavens save us, Agatha Christie, who should have been banned from attempting that lot long ago.) that butter would sell like hotcakes if it were to come in bacon-flavour and other assorted flavours, like blueberry, not one single butter-making company will subsidise your research down that path.

Aries March 21 - April 19
Msr. Sartre's spirit, sitting now on your drawing room couch, doesn't offer much help in the way of looking for being, primarily being occupied with worrying about Horace Walpole's escape during the course of the séance. You find, however, that he likes cookies with cream filling, though he doesn't like Pop-Tarts, at least not the ones you offered him, which was quite a variety, as you happen to have quite a fondness for them and their varied instances. You consider giving them up, in order to create a mind state in which you can find being a bit more readily. It may also help your ability to find the remote for the tele.

Libra September 23 - October 22
Horace Walpole, you conclude, even before you've read his Castle of Otranto, must be just as much a bore as Christopher Marlowe, as he regales you, if you're allowed to use that word when you're bored to tears, with stories of how he used to sit around England, and how it used to rain, not like it does now, but softer, and harder, sometimes with great ferocity, other times with not much at all but a slight drizzle.
Despite your well-intentioned sympathy of last week, offering to harbour him from the boring afterlife parties, you're afraid you may have to give him in, if only to save your own livelihood.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
If I were in the mood to count for how long some Scorpios have been waiting for a horoscope from the Honest and Kindly Board of Horoscopal Integrity and French Tourist Board Members, I would probably be counting for a long time. Because you still haven't got one. Sorry about that.
We're beginning to feel like a public transportation renovation project.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
Huh, isn't that funny, the week after we were talking about Yesmenitirkepool, an embassador from that small island nation in the back of The Boar's Head, in Worcester, England, calls upon you. This means he (as it's a he, along with 55% other Yesmenitikrepoolians)has popped by your flat for a chat. Which could be expressed in a nice little song, which, in turn, could work out well for the musical production of your life. Funny how these little things in life take care of themselves.
Oh, anyway, he wanted to know if he could borrow your phone, as Yesmenitirkepool seems to have had theirs broken in a barroom brawl incident, and have no way of getting in touch with the UN.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
You will experience slight bouts of freezing cold arse weather that threaten to undermine your very humanity. This will prompt you to move somewhere warm. A pub will do extremely well, for your needs.

[Horoscopes. dream lover, uh huh, uh huh.]


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