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HORRORSCOPES

Gosh, would it kill you to stop breathing on me! Oh, sorry about that folks, I’m in the electric eel tank at Regents Hall of Natural Science and these EELS keep BREATHING ON ME! Anyways, let’s get started with this week’s horoscopes:

ARIES – You are flawless, simply flawless. Your hair is lush and your knees are all put together. God, if it weren’t for my immaculate ears and tube sock engagement, I would surely be inviting you over to my family viewing party of Surfs Up 2: WaveMania.

TAURUS – I fell asleep trying to write this one, Taurus. You know, you’re really getting on my nerves poking around in my secrets. Sure, Taurus, I’ll admit that I got a little carried away last week with the wet suit and Elmer Fudd impersonation. Yes, I know I scared off President David R. Anderson ’74 and now he won’t play “Cooking Mama” with me. We all make mistakes, okay? God, why is it always about me? Just because I got your TI-84 confused with my TI-83 doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole. Just learn to take a joke and take on me, take on me.

GEMINI  – The celestial breast coat is looking for you, Gemini. They want to enter you into the Tri-Canoptical-Phasmagorical Arena. There you will befriend Pretty-Pocket, a small dancing tube sock who is wishing to return home to take care of their sweet, sweet children. Will you help them? Or will you destroy them in the heat of the battle!? TELL ME GEMINI, TELL ME WHAT YOU WILL DO!!!

CANCER – You are emboldened by the burgundy moon that you are having a sleepover with. “Hey, could you keep it down? My parents are going to get mad if you’re too loud, they have work in the morning,” says that idiot of a burgundy moon, so full of themselves. Play it cool, Cancer. Once they fall asleep, run downstairs and eat all their Oreos and social security cards. That’ll show them, Cancer.

PRANCER – Your body is a gleaming tower of kidneys, but don’t let that burden you this week. When someone from your past wants to connect this week, give them the old Brick Oven Bakery and fill them with joy and aching regret.

LEO – “Ugh, I’m just not feeling it this week,” says your best friend who should have been your love interest from the beginning, but for some god damn reason the author decided to make your love interest a minor character who is a sibling to another one of your best friends which is just ridiculous, and even in the later lore the author decides that your best married friends aren’t happy which makes everyone more upset, and honestly you’re going to have a bad time going forward. Author, please leave everything in the right place.

VIRGO – This week on Rat Boys: When an unfamiliar patron enters into the rat cave, Brusha Bill and Blara Bæ have to entertain them, and in doing so they discover that the Rat King is chosen not by strength but by the interconnections we make with our peers.

LIBRA – Libra good, Libra great, Libra go on an ice cream date! Welcome to Libra’s first date, I’m your host, Thesa Urus. Libra’s looking real nice, but OH GOD! Libra just broke the ice cream, yes you heard that right, folks. The very construct of ice cream is breaking before our eyes. Now, all we will be left with is frozen yogurt!!!

SCORPIO – Fish can drown.

SAGITTARIUS – I want to become a clam…

CAPRICORN – Did you know, I used to be a Capricorn? In those days I was a marmot living in the hills. A time it was, I learned a lot about repetition and the bicameral mind. What do you think about the bicameral mind?

AQUARIUS – You’re Grookey this week, definitely.

PISCES – Welcome back to the Horoscope Choose Your Own Adventure: Pisces Edition. As a refresher, you’re abroad and pointing at a Hard Rock Cafe menu, hoping to order something in a language you don’t know.

[Point at what looks like rice.]

The waiter walks away after winking devilishly at you. He returns to your table, not with a bowl of rice as you expected, but a pirated copy of Indiana Jones: Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Before you can react you are arrested. As you are sent to prison, you are reminded of the “you wouldn’t steal a car” advertisement on your old DVDs.

[Point at the bottle of wine, since you haven’t posted on your travel blog in a few hours, and know how much attention you will get by drinking in a country with a lower legal drinking age.]

Before you can point you are whisked away onto a dandelion. There you will meet Mr. Mark Antony, a sort of novelist, playwright, and student to the occult. You will suckle from his tome of knowledge, before remembering you have to write about this on your blog. At the word “blog” Mark Antony turns you into his pinky, which you are to this day.