Here it is already Friday - last week is over. Put it behind you. Breathe in, now out. Repeat. You’ve got a weekend to plan! Fridays around noon, assuming this server and I ever agree on what timezone we’re working with, you can catch up with your own personal astro-illogical future for the weekend and next week.
Aries (The Ram): Next week, the levee will break. You will have no place to stay. You will be taught to weep and moan. Crying will not help you, and praying will not do you any good. You will have to move. I suggest considering a move to Chicago, or possibly Aberdeen, MD.
Taurus (The Bull): Good job sorting your clothes last week. This week, maybe you can tackle the dishes? Your kitchen is a mess, and your lucky number is zero. Hop to it!
Gemini (The Twins): You will be offered a hamburger on Wednesday. Hit it like the fist of an angry god, then pay for it Thursday.
Cancer (The Crab): She likes you. She doesn’t want to sleep with you. Some people just aren’t going to want to do that, and you need to respect that. I know, you haven’t meet anyone yet who has wanted to do that, but they’re out there… Somewhere…
Leo (The Lion): You’re having a bad hair week. It’s going to get worse before it gets better; don’t worry about it. This is a good week to warm up the bike – helmet hair isn’t an issue today.
Virgo (The Virgin): Like a can of compressed gas, you’re waiting for something to blow. This week all hell will blow up, and you will wait no longer. Sunday, deals await you if you shop. Skip Thursday, it’s loaded with an extra helping of whoop-ass with your name all over it.
Libra (The Scale): You’ve called your congressman twice this year; once more and the FBI will be knocking. You’re going to go downtown this week; don’t make it be the hard way.
Scorpio (The Scorpion): Your suspicious nature causes you to be distrustful, but amidst all your evil character traits, you have grit and backbone. The Wisdom of the Serpent lies concealed within you, along with a lot of pizza and those cookies your roommates didn’t eat fast enough so you ate them yourself. Hey, they didn’t want them, did they? Your lucky numbers are the 18th through the 27th numbers in the Fibonacci sequence.
Sagittarius (The Archer): You are an idealistic flame, waiting to light the fires of those around you. You’re mutable, you’re eclectic, and you’re going to bust a heel this week. Keep a spare pair of shoes in your desk Monday.
Capricorn (The Sea-Goat): That Italian cruise ship sank because of you. Chuck Norris weeps when he thinks about what you could have been. How do you sleep at night? Oh, and your mom will call on Sunday; don’t pick up the phone. You don’t want to know.
Aquarius (The Water Bearer): Just as literature is news that stays news, you are as old now as you have ever been. By Wednesday, you’ll be even older. By this time next week, everything you know will have turned on its head and you’ll wonder why you ever wore your underpants on the inside. Roll with it. Your lucky number is nothing at all.
Pisces (The Fish): You glory and delight in getting others to adore you, and why should you not? You are the Shogun of your office, the Karmic guide of your bus stop. You’re still going to have to clean the bird shit off the window on Tuesday.