It doesn’t matter when you read it, or which sign you are, as horoscopes are all made up.
Asshole Astrology is now an actual thing — I blame you.
A friend said that Asshole Astrology sounds like an x-rated alternative to reading the tea leaves.
Others have said that it sounds rude, like a sex thing, or some sort of cavity search.
That’s surprisingly apropos — when I write I’m literally pulling it out of my arse.
That said, I hope that you’re sufficiently entertained to pay for this newsletter.
I need to start making enough money to live on soon because ghosts can’t type.
Unless, you know, they’re a ghost writer.
Please send help.
Aquarius: If there’s one thing I hate then there’s probably a bunch of other shit too. My current pet hate is people, including family members, who say things like “Well that’s your opinion” or “I’m just as entitled to my opinion” when confronted with SCIENCE or FACTS. No. Your opinion isn’t just as valid as any other. Your opinion is wrong. This month: What fatuous bullshit are you no longer willing to put up with?
Pisces: Do you need help? Yes I need help. I just thought I’d see if there was any way I could help. Please help. Ok if there’s anything I can do to help just let me know. You can help! So you don’t need any help? That’s great. HELP ME! Does any of that sound familiar? This month: Get good at asking for what you want. People are assholes but don’t like to be seen as assholes. These should not be thought of as separate things.
Aries: Americans arrange to chat with me in the UK but often get the time wrong and assume that means I’m late. As though my timezone should change to suit them. If someone books a time with me in my timezone then they should be on time in my timezone. If they get it wrong that’s their problem, not mine. It’s not my job to fix it for them. This month: What line in the sand will you draw? Stick to your guns.
Taurus: I work incredibly hard but worry I don’t work hard enough. Then I crack a joke about being incredibly lazy and people who don’t know me assume that I’m a jerk. Maybe it’s the other way round. The point is I’m not doing myself any favours by being modest or trying to hide my light under a bushel. This month: Where are you selling yourself short? What could you do or say instead that shows you in a better light?
Gemini: My life feels like a shit version of The Great Escape. I drove my life and career prospects into a ditch and now I’m brokeass poor, at the mercy of others, and being gaslighted by a narcissist arsehole. I need a new job, a new life, to live by myself, and to get away from everyone. I feel like I’m trying to dig my way out with a spoon. This month: What film best represents your life? What are you going to do about it?
Cancer: Every time I see a picture of a dog or cat on the internet I secretly boop its nose. True story. This month: What deep dark secrets do you have? Share them with someone. You’re not alone. We’ve all been there. It’s just that some of us have been there a lot more than others. As Hunter S. Thompson said: “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they always worked for me.”
Leo: I told a writer friend to finish their shit or pay someone else to do it. I’m available as a motivational speaker by the way. Another writer added: “That’s the best advice you can give a writer. Get to The End.” My friend was amused and hopefully got some writing done. Sometimes I feel like it’s my mission in life to shout supportively at people. This month: What do you need to hear to get you over the hump? Shout it out.
Virgo: People say there’s a plot hole in Terminator 2. The T-1000 shouldn’t be able to time travel because it’s made out of liquid metal and nothing metal can go through. I disagree. It’s a mimetic polyalloy. Just wiggle your eyebrows and say that it’s organic, alive, or able to mimic human flesh. I may be overthinking this. This month: What are you overthinking? What are the simplest solutions to your convoluted problems?
Libra: I just want to write. I travel, take photos and get into adventures but only so I can write about them. I don’t want to work for anyone else. And I don’t want to market my work as though it’s predicated on serving the needs of others. I may die in a ditch but at least I’m honest. This month: What do you really want to do? How can you do it? What are you willing to sacrifice to make that dream a reality?
Scorpio: I hate morning people. And mornings. And people. People talk about ‘the new normal.’ My new normal’s working from midnight to about five or six in the morning. Then sleep for three or four hours. Then I’m awake for the next couple of days without sleep. Then I watch cartoons. Sleep is for the weak. This month: What is your new normal? Adapt life to your art, not the other way round.
Sagittarius: A Twitter friend described herself as a potato masquerading as a human. Does that mean that they’re a… wait for it… carbohydrate based lifeform? Thank you, I’ll be here all week. Ok, I’ll see myself out. You’re a tough crowd. This month: What ridiculous metaphor would you use to describe yourself? What silly analogy best explains your life? People say I want the moon on a stick. Guilty as charged.
Capricorn: People who respond to difficult, challenging, or provocative questions with moral indignation and answers like “How could you ask such a thing?” don’t understand how questions work. Just because you ask something doesn’t mean you approve. I ask about Harry Potter all the time. This month: What questions would you ask if not for fear of reprisal? Expect the same level of candour from others.