Here is next 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. What does the universe have in store for you? Let’s find out.
Aquarius: You know that moment when you complete something that’s been on your to-do list for over a year but realise it wasn’t worth it? Well, that. Go play in the sunshine. It’s a beautiful day outside. They say all the cells in your body are replaced every seven years. You’re a different person but keep the memories of your former selves. I will look away now. Excuses, excuses. People are very stupid. My tongue may be pointed but at least it’s never forked. My favourite salad is word salad. I’ve run out of things to say — if you ask me a question I’ll assume you’re being rhetorical, okay? *backs aways slowly*
Pisces: I challenge you to a duel. Whippets at dawn? As a rough rule of thumb: If you’re worried something you see is NSFW (Not Safe For Work) then you need to stop dicking around on the internet and get back to work. Look up the word sarcasm in the dictionary. Then shut the fuck up and leave me alone. Are you trying to be funny? Nope. It just comes naturally. You’re no doubt an adept whereas I’m just a neophyte armed with google and too much time on my hands. Did someone do something nice for you? The words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’ or ‘get off of my lawn.’ So easy. You’re welcome.
Aries: If anyone ever says to me all unemployed people are lazy, lying scumbags I swear to god I’ll punch them in the mouth. I say this as someone who was unemployed for three years, unsecurely housed, eating at food banks, facing bankruptcy. I had to leave Brighton to avoid bankruptcy due to unemployment after more than a year of jobhunting, voluntary work and interning for charities. Was my time wasted? Not at all. It was worth every penny of the ten grand I spent training to be a journalist so that I could be unemployed during a recession and then told by some asshat at the local job centre that I should get a job in Asda.
Taurus: The notebook is your friend. Scribble all your ideas down so you’ve already overcome the blank page before you sit down to write. Beware of the stray wooden horse. Are you getting dreams mixed up with waking life again? Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a great way to spend a day. Are you sure you’re not a southerner? They don’t get my jokes either. Don’t worry, my good and dear friend, I know that you’re evil. At times like this I miss my imaginary friends. IT’S SO HOT. A friend questioned my cheerfulness because I want to destroy the sun. I thought I was being optimistic.
Gemini: It’s simple: I get stalkers, trolls and death threats. So you probably won’t get my email address. Which part of this is hard to understand? How to handle trolls: Say nothing, take screenshots, use twitter search to scour their timeline for evidence — or just be funnier than them. I know they say you shouldn’t feed the trolls but sometimes you just need to fuck with them. It’s ok so long as you’re funnier than they are. I rarely block trolls. I’m usually so abrasive and sarcastic in response that they get exasperated and block me. One of them got all butt-hurt when people laughed at my responses more than their trolling and changed their name to mine in protest.
Cancer: You’re a WRITER, not a word enthusiast — unless you do unspeakable things to dictionaries. In which case you should probably write about it. You already have all the resources you need — unless you need a tank, or an army of cats, or something mad like that. Don’t think of them as ‘feelings’ so much as ‘reasons to drink whisky.’ “I’m only laughing on the outside. My smile’s just skin deep. If you could see inside I’m crying. Join me for a weep.” Unfinished novels and stories are hidden all over my room like an army of abandoned ninjas. That which doesn’t kill you makes you interesting.
Leo: Your friends keep telling you to relax, calm down and get some sleep. It’s almost as if they care about your well-being or something. “The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” The truth hurts but you’ll never make it as a writer unless you write your fucking heart out. You can keep the world. I just want the moon on a stick. You think I’m joking but I’m not. Which I still think is funny. And you call trousers pants, tire your cars and would never wipe your mouth with a napkin. ™Don’t go around tonight. Well it’s bound to take your life. There’s a bathroom on the right.” Misheard song lyrics are the best lyrics.
Virgo: I’m pretty sure I’ve something important to do today. This isn’t it. Adulting is hard. Cats are harder. Wake up human! Feed me! Pet me! LOVE ME! You write? Let me stand on your laptop! All part of the service! In completely unrelated news I’m glad that it’s Friday. What’s the point of golf clubs if you’re not allowed to hit people with them? I ask for a friend. Commit to the first five minutes of anything you want to do. Eg. Want to walk? Lace up your boots and leave the house. It’s almost bedtime here — better known as ‘sit around in your underwear drinking and rethinking your life’ time. Sweet dreams.
Libra: Life is short. Write a book before you turn blind and senile. If you don’t turn your life into a story, you just become a part of someone else’s story. The best way to deal with Twitter trolls is to ignore them, make fun of them, or drink their blood from the hollowed out skull of one of your enemies. Does anyone else think doing absolutely anything else is better than watching TV? Your logic is impeccable. If I offend you, the onus isn’t on me to pacify you. Write whatever’s necessary to the heart. Kerouac said you are a genius all the time. Hemingway said the first draft of everything is shit. They’re both right. Keep going.
Scorpio: With everything your family says, no matter how much they nag or annoy you, what they’re really saying is I love you. Everyone on the internet is fiction. You’re not real until we meet. I’m much less grumpy in real life, I promise. A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play. And you’d be a liar and a communist for suggesting otherwise. Biscuits go soft when stale; cakes go hard. Jaffa cakes are cakes. So McVities don’t pay the chocolate biscuit tax. This is the world that we live in. Whatever happens in your life I wish you well and suspect the solution is to drink more tea.
Sagittarius: Some American women love my Yorkshire accent and think I should read filth for a living — I’m not sure if they think it’s sexy or hilarious. There’s something inordinately attractive about women with ridiculously-coloured hair. Green hair. Blue hair. Gingers. Just kidding! If that sounds like a euphemism or innuendo it’s just because I’m English and everything we say does. But why do you think that blue-eyed, blonde-haired men with English accents are trouble? Except, you know, because Vikings! Kid to her Mum on the bus: “Is that man a girl? Why does that man have long hair? But Daddy doesn’t have long hair! But boys CAN’T have long hair! BECAUSE I SAY SO!”
Capricorn: “This was a triumph! I’m making a note here: Huge success! It’s hard to overstate my satisfaction. Aperture Science: We do what we must because we can. For the good of all of us. Except the ones who are dead. But there’s no sense crying over every mistake. You just keep on trying ’til you run out of cake. And the science gets done. And you make a neat gun for the people who are still alive.”
This is my final horoscope that I wrote as a Nano Rebel during NaNoWriMo. Every horoscope from the start of November until now was written in that month. It includes a hefty quote from Still Alive, the song played at the end of Portal, because I think that’s funny. It also seems quite appropriate. Only a handful of people will get the joke and it will probably just confuse and annoy everyone else. I think that’s funnier than the actual joke. The cake is a lie! Sorry, wrong meeting. Thank you for playing.