Reverse hummingbird feeder

Due to the deepening worldwide economic crisis, many friends-with-benefits will soon lose their benefits. Benefits they fought for years to enjoy.

Cancer (June 21 - July 22)
You and Leo will go on an uncooked food diet, thrill to the exotic flavours of uncooked battered cod, uncooked bacon cheeseburgers, uncooked spaghetti with uncooked meat balls.

Leo (July 23 - August 22)
Uncook cookies. You’ll say to Cancer, “This uncooked food diet is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.” Tonight the Moon will do something that makes it look totally fullish.

Virgo (August 23 - Sept. 22)
You’re holistic in that you’re obsessed with holes. Skeptical Sagittarius asserts, “I want my eggs to be really expensive, and taste average.” In August you’ll say something that will greatly disturb your parrot, and everyone your parrot talks to.

Libra (Sept. 23 - Oct. 22)
Soufflé proves convulsant. You’ll find yourself in the middle of a race riot, assert “Hey, at least it isn’t a rape riot.” Tomorrow you’ll chain your naked body to a medieval torture rack in an ill-conceived anti-bondage protest.

Scorpio (Oct. 23 - Nov. 21)
Tonight, Taurus will stare at you with teary eyes and sob, “For God’s sake, Scorpio, listen to poetry critics. Because you don’t want to end up like me, finding out you just wasted six months reading shitty poetry.”

Sagittarius (Nov. 22 - Dec. 21)
You’d be depressed about being on an antidepressant if you weren’t on an antidepressant. Love interest inquires, “Yeah? What? Listen, is this important? ’Cause I’m getting married in a minute.” Next week you’ll be charged with wilful self-neglect.

Capricorn (Dec. 22 - Jan. 19)
You only date Aquarius for the free water. World proves worldwide. Focus on airless vacuums, redundant redundancies, the spectacular suicide plunge of your Grand Mastiff off your 33rd floor balcony.

Aquarius (Jan. 20 - Feb. 18)
If you buy a lap dance and they let you choose the song, choose “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Invert belly button. This is a good week to be surly and uncommunicative during brunch.

Pisces (Feb. 19 - March 20)
This horoscope will be rendered illegible by a crust of dried semen on your screen.

Aries (March 21 - April 19)
Carkwarkanark! Apropos Aquarius asserts, “You’re nothing more than a reverse hummingbird feeder for cocks.” Cloud of superheated volcanic gases pyroclastically exploding toward you at terrifying speed isn’t urgent.

Taurus (April 20 - May 20)
Friendship sails. Impoverished sketch comic implores, “Please don’t cut the pizza delivery sketch, that’s the only time I ever get to eat.” In Dungeons and Dragons circles you’re a notorious dungeon master baiter.

Gemini (May 21 - June 20)
The path to your destination winds through many, many brothels. Pretentious Pisces asserts, “Dear God no, our purebred Maltese only pisses on the finest grasses. No grubby dandelion patches for our dear Mister Snuggleford Trammelsworth III.” Disposal of spent toothpick proves emotional.

If Today is Your Birthday:
Don’t worry. Your coworkers will make it look like an accident.