Taurus (April 20-May 20)

The stars are annoyed with you, Taurus. Not the celestial stars from which I derive my cosmic knowledge, but the stars that live in Hollywood. They are annoyed with you, and do you know why? Because you completely mislabeled those maps to their homes. I’m sure it’s annoying enough being Keanu Reeves and trying to check your mailbox without throngs of brain-dead groupies trying to pull your bathrobe off, but imagine the insult added to injury when one of these soulless dumbasses shouts, “Hey! That’s not Carson Daly!” There’s a moon in the seventh house just for you, Taurus, and contrary to your map’s information, those dimpled asscheeks do not belong to Brad Pitt.

Gemini (May 21 –June 20)

You want to know why he’s not calling you back? You’re whimpering and pacing the floors in angst, wondering why he can’t pick up a phone? Well, news flash Gemini – your date with him only ended 14 hours ago. That could be one reason. Another reason could have something to do with the fact that you spent most of the date describing the trials and tribulations of being a pudgy, jobless woman with nothing nice to say about anything, including yourself. Yeah, I know, the self-insults were just you fishing for compliments, but c’mon... he’s an eligible bachelor who leaves his house fairly often, and you’re a clingy drama addict with unreasonable expectations. What was he supposed to do, make shit up?

Cancer (June 21-July 22)

Exactly what purpose does it serve to build a hotel on Elmwood Avenue, Cancer? Oh, sure, that whole “Buff State is the only college with no hotel near it” thing, riiiight. Well, did it occur to you that Delaware Avenue, with its doublewide streets and TWO bus routes, would be just as good a location, if not better? Seriously, Cancer, have you ever tried to drive up Elmwood during daylight hours? It’s like a giant, slow-moving game of Dodge the Delivery Guy as it is. Imagine how much more of a pain in the ass it’s gonna be, waiting for hotel patrons to unload their crap. Of course, I’m probably wasting my breath with you anyways, Cancer, since you clearly have no interest in looking toward the future.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)

CLASSIFIED

Virgo (Aug 23-Sept 22)

Okay, let me explain something about the phrase, “You gotta love it!” It implies that one has no choice but to enjoy whatever it is you’re talking about. And sure, that’s true when you’re describing oral sex or Sean Connery. You, however, used it to describe Seinfeld, Krispy Kreme donuts, movies with Steve Buscemi in them, French bread pizzas, Homestar Runner, that drunk skier from the Winter Olympics who didn’t win anything, Geico ads, Lego, the Discovery Channel, and cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving, and that was all in one conversation. I’m hereby revoking your right to use that phrase. Now shape up, or I’m also taking away “How can you go wrong,” which will render you about as conversationally adept as Marcel Marceau.

Libra (Sept 23 –Oct 22)

Pick up toilet paper on the way over, would you?

Scorpio (Oct 23-Nov 21)

I agree; it must be a real hassle getting busted over and over again. I mean sure, you manage to escape litigation every time, and you have a seemingly limitless expense account, but it must really burn your ass every time the authorities put the kibosh on your best-laid plans. The stars have spoken, and they tell me to tell you the following message: “DUMBASS! STOP BUILDING ALL YOUR DOOMSDAY DEVICES IN THE SHAPE OF A GIANT RED COBRA!!!” As for me, I’d simply like to add that I preferred the mirror-face mask you used to wear.

Sagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21)

Wow, that’s a nasty little shanker you’ve got there. I’ve never seen one that actually bubbled before.  Naturally, your HMO isn’t going to cover it, so unless your wife still falls for excuses involving alien abduction, I suggest you get a knife, some rubbing alcohol, and a stick to bite down on, because you’ve got your work cut out for you. Oh, and let this be a lesson to you: just because they’re sheep, it doesn’t necessarily obviate condom use.

Capricorn (Dec 22 – Jan 19)

You can talk at me until you’re blue in the face, Capricorn, but you will never convince me that wrestling isn’t gay. I mean, okay, fine... It isn’t “fake”, I understand that now. I am aware that wrestling is actually more dangerous and risky than stunt work and football combined, and that you have to stage a fight because real fights are boring to watch, and also that wrestlers are highly skilled atheletes in their own right. What YOU have to understand, is that in a world full of training-required career options, wrestlers chose the one where they get to grope scantily clad members of their own sex while wearing tights, and sometimes capes. Script or no script, those guys are clearly grabbing each others’ balls during the bodyslams. That doesn’t seem a little gay to you?

Aquarius (Jan 20-Feb 18)

Hey, pal, I sense you over there, writing your own Beast-O-Scopes! Knock it off, jerk-wad! You think I just sit here and make shit up or something? Well, I guess you know NOW that I don’t, huh? I thought making your candle explode last week would have done the trick, but apparently not; you’re still determined to take my job. This is my gig, buddy, so take your little faux-divination game elsewhere. Besides, the reason you failed as an actual seer is that your “Tarot deck” was really a red-and-black “Magic the Gathering” deck. I can’t believe you didn’t notice – since when do you have to tap three black mana for upkeep during a friggin’ séance? Pathetic... stupid.

Pisces (Feb 19-March 20)

I know Libra’s gonna forget the TP. Be a dear and grab it, won’t you?

Aries (March 21-April 19)

Oh, so you were expecting to see your Beast-O-Scope at the TOP of the page, huh? You’re so convinced that Aries deserves to be at the top of the list... why exactly? I mean, technically, Capricorn and Aquarius are first in the calendar year (read: the calendar that ACTUAL PEOPLE use), and Aquarius is even before Aries in alphabetical order, yet here they sit, week after week, humbly taking a lower place between Pisces and Sagittarius, while YOU keep arbitrarily hogging the limelight. Take your lumps, Aries, and withhold all complaints, lest I reveal to the world what TWO orifices you like having fingers shoved into. One after the other.