Mars has moved into your third house. Be thankful, it could have been Artie Lange. And believe me, you’d never get the smell out of your couch. You think you're cooler than you are, but you're too stupid to know you're not. Enjoy your bliss.
You may be the bull of the zodiac, but the cows will come home only if there is a sensitive, nurturing male there to awaken their sexualities. Stop trying to mount them and spend more time on the udders. The life-giving milk will have you reflecting on your mother issues and the great cyle of birth and death. Use condoms.
As usual, your schizophrenic personality has you moving in opposite directions. Half of you wants to go on a brown rice fast, the other half wants to scarf down Big Macs. Half wants to make a pilgrimage to sacred Maidu ruins, the other wants to go to the mall. One wants to vote Green Party, the other Republican. My advice: Listen to Ariana Huffington until the Republican half commits suicide.
Crab walk out on a limb this week and say hello to your inner moon child. Winter is reflection time in the cosmos and you should try to figure out your existence. Explore your feelings about your father and how he ruined your life.Try to forgive all those people who wronged you. Throw away the voodoo doll of your former boss but save the pins for your case worker at the unemployment office.
The lion roars and, as usual Leo, nobody listens. This is a good time for you to resonate with the universe and your miniscule place in it. Stop singing "If I Were King of the Forest" and kill something already. Give birth to a new you; more mellow and less drunk. Lend an ear to a friend in trouble, lend a hand to someone in need. Lend twenty bucks to Erik Mathisen and you won’t see him for a month.
This is no time to be a virgin. Give in to your libidinous urges and throw off the puritanical societal chastity belt of prudery. It is time to celebrate our male and femaleness. Let’s explode together in orgasmic multitude. Call The New Age Orgy Hotline at 1-900-TOFU DILDO. Consider double penetration with a Gemini.
Libra is my favorite sign. So balanced, so just...harmony personified. That’s why it’s so hard to tell you that you’ll be dead within 48 hours. Namaste. Can I have your car?
Oh Scorpion! Don’t point that thing at me. I know things aren’t going so well for you right now. Examine your issues and come to terms with your faults. You won’t feel any better but at least you’ll stop blaming me for your problems. Your moon is still in my house. Awkward. I would appreciate it if you would come and get it.
I shot an arrow in the air, I found it in your underwear. This could be good or bad depending on whose underwear it is. Share a simple meal with your people. Your half-horse/half human freakazoid people. Be open to telepathic signals from your dog. You may be a homosexual.
The water bearer. Sigh. I know it’s hard carrying all that extra water weight around. All your clothes are a little tight. Your ankles are swollen and your back hurts. You feel bloated and unhealthy, like Rush Limbaugh with PMS. Try soaking the water up with donuts. That should help.
The goat. Climbing, climbing, climbing. What happens when you get to the top, all alone? Should you start a blog? Upload a picture to Facebook? Post a tweet? Shoot yourself in the head and hope you're dead before the fall kills you? It's all good. Tip your bartender. Remember the Alamo.
Last but not least, Pisces. The fish out of water. Cool, silvery, flashing scales flopping about on the deck of life. Where shall I go? What shall I do? Will I ever pay off my student loan? I don’t have the answers. Just some advice. Look around yourself. Feel the pain of others. Be thankful for what you have. After all, things could be worse. You could be Chastity Bono's vajayjay.