HORRORSCOPES

With Ms Urble
(Read at your own risk)

ARIES
Don’t rock the boat this week. Someone in the House of Mars forgot to remove the plastic keel and any undue sudden motion will likely find you entangled with an undesirable Libra who will somehow have managed to fasten himself to those long unshorn pubic hairs you’ve been so enamoured of lately. And then Sagittarrius is likely, with its moon in recession this fortnight, covet the action and further encumber your crossing the ellipsis, but all of this can be avoided if you repaint the plastic keel to resemble a passing wind.

TAURUS
There is an immense booger clouding your vision. Blow your horn in the bathroom.

GEMINI
This is an exciting and frustrating time for you. Reading Umberto Eco’s Latin tribute to Tom Cruise’s smoochfest in the theatre, and you know all too well who’s doing the pretending this week, puts you in a cynical mood on Thursday, so sleep in and take care of that frustration. That should set you up nicely for a rousing rendition of The Innate Values of Viagara by the Holy Water. Don’t forget to genuflect upon completion.

CANCER
This is a choice week to exhibit utmost determination about something serious for a change. With Mother’s Day behind you, and your sun in retrograde, tell sissy to look after the plastic keel part while you build an ark for daddy. Ask Leo for help with the cat-skinning.

LEO
As you approach the Ides of May, meditate upon the spent cherry blossoms and descending buds as you realize that all things in this cosmos must in the end transmogrify (just ask Sylvester). To prevent your undoing and any facial downfalls, pray to the new moon on a grassy slope that your wife won’t find that night-thingie until you can get home from work and dissolve it in scorpion’s blood. Ask Rachel for a velvet hand. She’ll know.

VIRGO
I see money on your vertigo. You may want to check your mail for rusty cans from an unbridled runaway. Wear gloves and send a letter of thanks to the editor of Soldier of Fortune. And if you’re still flummoxed about what to wear to the annual office summer bash-up, now you can afford that pipe bomb outfit. You go, guy.

LIBRA
With your crescent moon on the door and the well backing up, this is not a good week for traipsing naked in the dark near anything which may be emitting an untoward scent. Send the dog out first and if she makes it back with something venomous in its mouth you know the coast is clear for those diabolical night games you’ve been lifting from the Joneses. Don’t invite the tricky Macauley.

SCORPIO
If you’re still trying to extricate that fur ball then at least take heed that “All in moderation” was meant for you too. After Tuesday, your moon is in upgrade and you might want to consider a brushcut. Who needs the chewy aggravation anyway?

SAGITTARIUS
You’re having a very productive period. Sometimes quantity matters more than quality. Clear your table for a jinxed jigsaw puzzle and when you’re in the midst of absolute furor, chant the Seven Rings of the Dharmic Rosary. Then gingerly place each puzzle chip into those hash brownies mentioned earlier and send to Leah the Unhelpful. Don’t add Ginger.

CAPRICORN
Now is a good time to impress your boss with your sensitivity and thoughtfulness. Send your swaddling clothes to Sally Anne, then tip off Sagittarius and then vaunt about this deed (discreetly) to the main man. Expect a raise, or at least a Tequila Sunrise with a view.


AQUARIUS
Now that the moon is finally out of the seventh house, it’s long overdue for a spring cleaning. Hire all the contractors before another episode of Desperate Houseboys and wear something supremely evocative when they come a calling. Whips are on sale at Sally Anne.

PISCES
Uranus moves to your sign on Tuesday so ask Wimpy for his secret hot sauce and anything else he might have for those episodic hemorroids. Michael has white gloves. Or borrow some swaddling material from Capricorn.