Bonus Post: Asshole Astrology — Week of 10 August 2020

Why aren’t my words the focal point of your existence?

If they were you would have signed up for my newsletter by now.

Or given me all of your money so that I can spend it on tea.

Those are literally the only two options.

Here is this week’s horoscope for your sign.

It doesn’t matter when you read it, or which sign you are, as horoscopes are all made up.

All joking aside please let me know if you’d like to read this as a regular part of Chapter 23.

Or sign up directly for my humorous horoscopes instead.

If you pay for either newsletter you can have the other for free. Because I love you.

Aquarius: After all these years it’s normal that people haven’t seen Star Wars. This week you prove you’re not a millennial by being unable to take a proper selfie. People will be polite and tempted to say something like “You’re looking well” and you won’t even be able to think of a decent one-liner in response. You could always tell them to f*ck off. It’s a good one. A classic. Tried and tested. Vintage. Much like you feel these days in your advanced years.

Pisces: You clearly label a joke as a joke. People still somehow managed to take it literally and act like you’re being serious. It’s almost like they’re determined to take offence at everything. This is why you hate the internet. There ain’t no cure for stupid. No, I’m not saying that you’re stupid. What do you mean you take offence at that? It’s just a joke. There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist. Wait a minute. I see what you did there.

Aries: Good morning. I think I’m off back to bed. See you at the weekend. You may feel misunderstood about your insomnia and night-owl tendencies. But clearly anyone who gets up during daylight hours, like a so-called normal person, is daft and not to be trusted. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” Stay in bed. That’s my advice. And something I do. Hence why I’m in my jim-jams. Bedtime wisdom. Goodnight, everybody.

Taurus: A cup of tea solves everything — including running out of tea. No matter how much direction you develop in life you still somehow always seem to manage to piss on your boots. Life is a shit sandwich. Anyone who says differently is trying to sell you something. But if ifs and buts were candy and nuts we’d all have a merry Christmas. Stay positive. Drink tea. That’s a great philosophy for life. Unless you run out of tea.

Gemini: Enjoy your weekends. You only get two days off from your miserable humdrum worker-bee existence so that you don’t die at work. Don’t sit in the corner the whole time with your thumb up your arse. And no I don’t mean like Little Jack Horner. I think you’re thinking of pie. Now I’m thinking about pie. Mmm. Pie. This week you look like the cat that got the cream. I on the other hand ate Tweetie Pie. Hence the feather sticking out of my mouth.

Cancer: An Albanian proverb says: “In the eyes of the mouse the cat is a lion.” Your inner toddler is Tom Hardy. Remind me to never mess with you. When it comes to one of your deepest darkets secrets you’re worried that the cat is out of the bag. The cat is out of the bag? The cat isn’t out of the bag. Cats can’t escape from out of bags. It’s their one weakness. The only thing that you have to fear is fear itself… and spiders. Fuck spiders.

Leo: Americans know best. Doctor Who has always been a little bit shit. It’s perfectly ok to call a Sausage Sandwich a Sausage Roll here in England. It’s not like we already call something else that. Some sort of pastry for example. Coffee is better than tea. It hurts to type these things, or think them, even in jest. Don’t take everything I say literally. If you take everything I say literally then I literally want to punch you in the face.

Virgo: I’m not saying that you’re out of touch but most of your cultural references are carbon dated. I’m not saying that you’re uptight but I bet that you’re the type of person who flinched when Apple put a U2 album on your phone. And I’m not saying that your conversation is boring but last night I dreamt that Terence McKenna downloaded alien poetry into my head. Sorry, you were telling me what you had for breakfast? Pray continue.

Libra: Everybody’s talking about Artichokes, Asian greens, Asparagus, Beans, Beetroot, Broccoli, Brussels sprouts, Cabbages, Carrots, Cauliflower, Celery, Chilli peppers, Courgettes, Cucumber, Eggplant, Fennel, Garlic, Ginger, Kale, Leeks, Mushrooms, Onions, Parsnips, Potatoes, Pumpkins, Radishes, Rhubarb, Salad greens, Shallots, Spinach, Turnips. This vegetable, that vegetable, salad, salad, salad. All we are saying is give Peas a chance.

Scorpio: With everything your family says, no matter how much they nag or annoy you, what they’re really trying to say is: “I love you.” It’s sad when people you care about exit from your life. Especially when people who piss you off won’t take the hint. Sometimes you feel the need to say goodbye to people who are no longer in your life and to let them go. Or you could just unfollow them on Twitter and stop stalking them on Facebook. Everyone must go.

Sagittarius: You’re like the lost child of the Addam’s family. Were you born on a Wednesday? I’ve started remembering my dreams again. Be afraid. Be very afraid. The best one was Battle Royale: Muppets vs Sesame Street. Puppet carnage is somehow much funnier than the real thing. Speaking of which, that provides a tenous link to how things are for you this week. Fall asleep with lights on and wake up with lights off? Check for monsters under the bed.

Capricorn: Read a REAL book — one with pages. Write out your opinions about the book in long-hand without referring to the internet. I am Jack’s token cultural reference. You’ve Sophie’s Choice over several work projects: You love them all but one of them has to die. It’s time to make up your mind. You could always take the Keyser Soze approach and KILL EVERYONE. Just walk away. Just walk away and there will be an end to the horror.


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