Asshole Astrology — Week of 4 January 2021

Horoscopes for horrible people

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.

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Aquarius: ‘Do the work’ is the ultimate lifehack. There’s no big secret. No shortcut. No trick. Do the verb of whatever noun you want to be. For example: If you want to be a writer then write. You learn to write by writing. If you write well you’re already ahead of 99% of the competition. I’m often mean to poets. Not because I don’t value poetry — but because I value it so much. Poetry is hard to do well and only the good stuff is worth reading. You can read a bad book or blog post and still get something useful out of it. Whereas a bad poem is less than useless.

Pisces: How do you do it? Witchcraft. But seriously how are you so productive every damned day? Magick. Do share! I just did. What’s your secret? I’m a night owl. I secretly wish I was more like you — being productive on a morning I mean, not having kids or other responsibilities and no choice but to be productive day or night. Hard work is usually the secret and only considered as such because so few are prepared to do it. Odin: How do I triumph over chaos? Troll: Give me an eye and I’ll tell you. *Odin cuts out an eye* Troll: The secret is keep both eyes open. *mic drop*

Aries: 3.30pm. Time to get up out of bed. I’m curled up naked, in bed under a duvet, listening to rain beat against the window as I drift in and out of sleep. “Back to bed,” said Zebedee. But who takes life advice from a jack-in-the-box? I mean, seriously. You’ve heard of Dances With Wolves. My name would be Sleeps With Two Duvets. What about you? The duvet’s one of the most civilised inventions — second only to the kettle. Sleep is productive. Get some rest. This is what I’m saying. You can’t be an effective sleeper agent if you’ve got insomnia. Just kidding.

Taurus: Why do people reply to my jokes like they’re trying to answer rhetorical questions? I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist! There’s nothing to explain. There’s nothing to debate. There’s nothing to answer. It was a joke. When someone says something stupid I assume they’re joking. When I joke they assume I’m stupid. And for sarcasm that I’m criminally insane. Life is a joke. Death is the punchline. Talk amongst yourselves. Thank you. I’ll be here all week. That’s what comedians say when no-one finds them funny. It’s not as funny when you have to explain it.

Gemini: A woman stopped in the street and took my photo. I’m not a bloody tourist attraction. People keep staring at me and I don’t know why. What’s so fascinating about an angry fat man with long hair? Shit. Instagram has its uses. But I’m a fat ugly single guy in his 40s, don’t have pets, and I’m not on holiday. I don’t want to see pictures of your pets, kids, lovers, holidays, family, friends, or food. It doesn’t mean that I dislike you, I just don’t need that in my life right now. I’ve no interest in what you ate for breakfast. Spare a thought for the less pretty.

Cancer: Captain Sensible has a lot to answer for. “Happy talky talky happy talk. Talk about things you like to do. You got to have a dream. If you don’t have a dream how you gonna make a dream come true…” I woke up with that song stuck in my head every day for the past week or so. Feel free to draw your own conclusions. I’ll never sleep again. The only way to get it out of your head is to infect others. Preferably by singing out loud in public. I hereby give it to you. You’re welcome. It’s great life advice that you might want to listen to. In addition to being annoying as fuck.

Leo: Give up fast food. The manager of the place where I’m eating has just asked if my food was ok. Three times. Should I worry? The fact that dogs won’t touch it tells you all you need to know about McDonalds. I used to make a cup of tea last for four hours there but only so I could use their public wifi. There are some things you just don’t eat. Kids today don’t even know that beefburgers are made from cows. In all fairness they’re probably not these days but you know what I mean. “When I get a little money, I buy books. If any is left, I buy food and clothes.”

Virgo: Just write. Don’t stop, don’t worry, don’t think — just write. It’s better than nothing. It’s better than sitting there with your thoughts. Don’t press delete. If you write it wrong, just write it right next time. Don’t get it right, get it written. Try to write 2,000 words in an hour. It’s the most fun you can have in an hour, short of drugs or fucking. Grab your story by the throat. Write whatever scares or excites you the most. Any time you think: “I can’t write that” put it in. Light a candle. Write until the candle goes out. If you don’t quit before the candle you can have cake.

Libra: You met me at a very strange time in my life. Or in some mad alternative version of Little Red Riding Hood. I am Jack’s token cultural reference. If I make you laugh then I’m glad mate. That’s nearly always my intention. But being sociable on social media is hard work. Get off my lawn! I think we should see other people. “Over the years I have come to regard all of you as people I met.” Don’t follow people: LEAD THEM! Sorry, wrong meeting. Push systems until they break, so that you find their limits, then whistle innocently like you didn’t do anything.

Scorpio: The last episode of Doctor Who was a bit shit, wasn’t it? Life is nothing but a long series of relative disappointments. I reconsidered getting treated for anxiety and depression — but I refuse to be drugged out of my basic conviction that the world is WRONG. According to Throeau the cost of a thing is the amount of life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run. I suspect we may have been separated at birth so I exactly don’t fancy your chances. But now you’re listening to Coldplay? Seriously?! Don’t jump: life is NEVER that bad.

Sagittarius: You’re tired, you’ve not had any sleep, and you’re sat on your bed. I think you see where this is going. Hey, I’m a journalist. I know things. People: But how did you figure out so-and-so’s true identity and that they were pretending to be someone else? Me: Which part of I trained as a journalist did you not understand? “I yam what I yam, and that’s all what I yam.” Or likewise as any pirate will tell you: “Yarrr what yarr!” You should go to sleep; someone needs to stage an intervention. Or you could drink tea. You’re absolutely right. I’ll put the kettle on.

Capricorn: You know that bit in The Bible where it says: “Thou shalt not drunk tweet.” Well, I should be on Twitter this late more often, your drunk tweets are hilarious. Why don’t I pour us both some whisky and you can tell me all about it? That’s a bit like asking a Monk to tell you about their vow of silence. “A vow of silence? That’s fascinating. Tell me about it.” But don’t you think The Bible contains some pretty whacky advice? Oh definitely. Things like: Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s Mac. Thou shalt not neglect thine email. I’m an atheist, thank God.