by
Andrew Gullerstein
Virgo
(August 23 - September 22)
Virgo,
where's my $40 and Stoli, bitch? A bet is a bet and you must pay for
doubting my skills as a marksman. Don't you try to get out of it,
that poor bastard had the police at his house solely because of the
intensity of his screams. More than half the neighborhood woke up
because of your little challenge, and at the price I quoted you can't
deny it was a bargain. I fulfilled my duty bitch, so you had best
pay up on what is owed, my friend, before I am forced to get all "Quigley
Down Under" on your nether regions.
Libra
(September 23 - October 22)
Libra,
stop stalking that poor girl from the library! Just because she said
"hi" to you last month does not mean that you should be
following her around or taking all those pictures. I want you to take
a few minutes and think about the six restraining orders that are
currently in use against you. Do you really feel that seven is the
way to go? Now please, stop stalking the new girl and go home to your
real friends on the Internet, before our librarian friend comes home
to find you in her kitchen cooking dinner in her underwear. And no,
I don't think she likes veal.
Scorpio
(October 23 - November 22)
Scorpio,
what exactly goes through your head when you attempt to steal produce
at the Farmers' Market? You might be able to snag an apple or a couple
of mangos, but why you would choose watermelon as your target boggles
my mind. It wasn't even a reasonably sized melon but rather a twenty-two
pound monster. Your attempt to outrun the vendor's unusually large
son was noble but hysterically pathetic at the same time. Not as hysterical
as when you tripped, fell on the Watermelon and knocked the wind out
of yourself, but funny nonetheless. I suppose the moral here, Scorpio,
is not to steal from farmers, unless you are a bank.
Sagittarius
(November 23 - December 21)
Look
Sagittarius, I tried to talk some sense into Taurus about the "ass
thing," but I am not sure how successful I was. I do recommend
that the two of you have an extended dialogue about his little fetish
and that you not allow him to install a 220 line in the house. I know
it's hard, but you are dealing with a man that had his temperature
taken rectally until…well more recently than you want to know.
Anyhow, try not to fall asleep before he does, and if you come home
and find a large empty rectangular box with German wording on it sitting
in the trash, go straight to your mother's house (trust me).
Capricorn
(December 22 - January 20)
When
was it that you went too far, Capricorn, with your newfound obsession
with health and diet? Was it when you tried to pass soy bacon off
as real bacon at the breakfast table? Was it when you started telling
people that Snackwells were "better than real cookies?"
Perhaps it was the day you began wearing magnetic bracelets to help
curb your hunger? Actually, all of that was within acceptable obsession
tolerances, but the day I saw you at the supermarket reading the "nutrition
information" off the bottom of a Krispy Kreme donuts box, you
crossed the line. I wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake
the shit out of you as you sat there intently reading the bottom of
that box, seeking any shred of nutritional validity you could use
to justify the purchase. For Christ's sake, either eat the fucking
donuts or don't, but don't try to rationalize it. Just for the record
Capricorn, donuts are made of three components; Carbohydrates, Fat
and Sugar, and in any combination of the three, the outcome is simply
delicious. Look, Capricorn, the simple truth of the matter is that
apples with make you healthy, and donuts will make you happy. If you
think about it, there is a way to get both that has nothing to do
with Bulimia.
Aquarius
(January 21 - February 19)
So
what if your girlfriend told you that you have a small penis, Aquarius?
Are going to let that eat you up inside for the rest of your life?
Truthfully, what do you care if you have a small one? You get the
same level of enjoyment out of it as a guy with a freakishly large
package, and you are able to carry on a conversation beyond the range
of monosyllables. If she wants to find a guy with an oversized dick,
just tell her to go ahead and get one, usually they're filing a SSD
claim or attaching a wood plank bumper to their car. The stars have
authorized me to give you some ammunition for your defense, Aquarius;
the next time she takes the time to tell you that your penis is small
just tell her, "I wish I could say that about your ass."
Pisces
(February 20 - March 20)
I
have only two words for you Pisces; You Suck.
Aries
(March 21 - April 20)
Aries,
you are one of those people who give and give without any thought
of reciprocation. For instance, just the other day I was driving down
the road thinking to myself, "I could really use some aggressive
politically/lifestyle choice-motivated reading material." Suddenly,
as though the Universe itself was rewarding its humble servant, your
car appeared in front of mine, with its back end completely plastered
with a compendium of your personal philosophy, broken down onto stickers
of various shapes and sizes. Just driving down the road, I would have
never known that you are a Vegan and a hardcore environmentalist had
you not covered your vehicle with a plethora of catchphrases like
"Proud Vegan" and "Friends Don't Let Friends Eat Meat"
and "Meat is Murder" and "Have You Hugged a Tree Today?"
and Fur, Meat, Trees, blah-blah-blah. In the event your patchouli-smelling
ass missed the heavy layer of sarcasm laid down here I would like
to make a blunt statement on behalf of the cosmos: Your personal beliefs
are exactly that, personal. Smearing your philosophical logo feces
all over your car will never have any effect on the lives of others,
beyond distracting them enough to plow into the back of your car.
Just driving behind you for three blocks made me crave animal flesh
cooked over a wood burning fire. In fact, I recently attended a dinner
party at my Editor's home, where we consumed the meat from at least
three different animals just to ensure we were being fair and balanced.
Fuck you Aries, a bumper sticker has never changed the world and if
you really want to "Free Chong," try writing a letter…dickhead.
Taurus
(April 21 - May 20)
Just
because you like having foreign objects jammed up your ass, Taurus,
doesn't mean that your girlfriend does as well. Truth be told, she
has made it quite clear to you that at no time are you to attempt
sticking anything in her rectum, nor will she aid you in fitting odd
items into yours. Please give that some thought before you actually
order the "Ass Master 3000" from that catalog you've been
hiding all week. Common sense should tell you that this thing has
"Emergency Room visit' written all over it. For the love of God,
it comes with a fucking legal waiver form; that alone should send
up a couple of red flags. You need to evaluate your current relationship,
Taurus; if the ass factor is that important, it may be time to move
on. On a side note, if I EVER see you use that large wooden salad
spoon at a dinner party I will punch you right in the face.
Gemini
(May 21 - June 20)
Gemini,
it never ceases to amaze me how people like you act surprised when
your Pit Bull rips the face off a neighborhood kid after it's killed
several cats. Were you actually thinking, "mine will be different"
when you bought that thing from the breeder? I certainly don't think
giving it a name like "Muffin" or "Mr. Sniffles"
can curb the aggressive nature of the animal. So we are clear on the
subject, I don't blame the dog; I blame you, the jackass who bought
the dog. As long as assheads like you, Gemini, are buying "fighting
dogs," the soulless breeders will continue to systematically
refine the breeding process until the fucking things are born with
laser-guided missiles. Then you can act really surprised when it levels
a school. Pit Bull…Want to give a poor dog a home, try adopting
a Greyhound, shithead.
Cancer
(June 21 - July 22)
Dear
Cancer, just because it is 2:30am and there is no streetlight directly
in front of your house doesn't mean that you neighbors are unable
to see you vigorously masturbating on your upper porch. That big tree
only obscures the view from so many angles, you know. Now I know what
you're thinking…blackmail. But that is simply not the case this
time. In fact, I would instead like to offer you an apology for shooting
you in the groin with a BB rifle just as you climaxed the other night.
I hope you accept my apologies, Cancer, because I really am sorry
about doing it. At the time it just seemed like the right thing to
do, especially after my friend Virgo bet me $40 and a bottle of Stoli
that I couldn't hit you at just the right "moment." Had
I known you would scream that loudly while writhing around on the
porch floor, I might have thought twice about it. Actually, I would
probably still do it, I just wouldn't pump the air rifle so many times.
You're weird, Cancer.
Leo
(July 23 - August 22)
Leo,
the next time I come home from a hard day of Cosmic channeling to
find your truck parked in my driveway, I am going to have the shitbox
towed. The very audacity that allows you to think you can just park
in someone's driveway without permission, or at the very least a note
stuck to the door, shows you to be an asshole of impressive scale.
How about I come over to your place and take a dump on your coffee
table, Leo? Hey, mi casa es su casa right?
